Wedded Blintz (7 page)

“So, tell me, what evidence should I have on the fiancé?” Davies sat with her elbows splayed on the desk, hands steepled in front of her, her chin resting on top of her fingers.

“Well, I assume you know he’s missing,” Lexy said.

“Yes,
I
know that, but how do
you
know that?”

Lexy felt a tingle of uneasiness. “Umm … well he wasn’t at home yesterday when I took my grandmother there … to visit the neighbor.”

“Right. I forgot you were visiting the
neighbor
.” Davies flipped open the lid of the pastry box, took a sniff and then leaned back in her chair. “That’s a pretty big coincidence that he happened to live next to Ms. Maynard’s fiancé.”

Lexy shrugged. “What does it matter? Surely you can see the fiancé disappearing after a big fight as a pretty big clue that he did it.”

“Fight?” Davies left brow rose a fraction of an inch.

She didn’t even know about the fight? Lexy wondered how much of Davies’ job she’d have to do for her in order to get the case solved properly. “Yes, his neighbor heard Veronica and her fiancé—Stuart—having a big fight the day she was murdered.”

Davies sat up in her chair and grabbed a notepad. “What about?”

“I have no idea, but he said she drove off and Stuart peeled out after her,” Lexy said. “So, I’m pretty sure that clears me and I was hoping I could get my shoe back.”

“That suede Jimmy Choo? That’s a nice shoe.”
 

Lexy nodded.

Davies pulled out a piece of gum and shoved it into her mouth. “I’m not convinced about this. Plus, I think it’s strange that you know so much—you might be the real killer lying to make it look like—”

The phone ringing on Davies desk interrupted her and she picked up the receiver.

“Davies,” she barked into the phone.

She narrowed her eyes at Lexy. “And where did you find him?”

Davies scribbled something down on a piece of paper and Lexy fidgeted in her seat—she just wanted to get her shoe and get out of there.

“I’ll be right there.” Davies slammed down the phone and stood up.

“Was that about Stuart Wiggins?” Lexy wondered if they’d found the fiancé and hoped that he’d confessed.

“Yes it was.” Davies came around the side of the desk and sat on the corner facing Lexy. “He’s dead.”

Lexy sucked in a breath. She wasn’t expecting
that
, but it made perfect sense. He was probably so distraught over killing Veronica that he killed himself. Such a sad thing.
 

“Did he leave a suicide note? Did he admit to killing Veronica?” Guilt battled with hope in Lexy’s chest as she asked the question, feeling bad that someone’s suicide could clear her of suspicion.

“Suicide note?” Davies wrinkled her face at Lexy. “Stuart Wiggins didn’t commit suicide … he was murdered.”

Chapter Eleven

Lexy drove out of the police station parking lot and pointed her car toward Nans’—she’d called her grandmother with the news of Wiggins’ murder as soon as she left the police station and was told to come right over. The news of Wiggins’ murder blew their theory all to hell and she needed to brainstorm with Nans and the ladies to try to figure out just what was really going on.
 

Davies had given her the evil eye before rushing off to the scene of the crime—Lexy had a feeling the detective was seeing Lexy as the killer of all three victims. Of course, it probably didn’t help that she had fought with Veronica, discovered the bodies and then was seen at Wiggins’ townhouse just yesterday.

She whipped into the
Brooke Ridge Falls Retirement Center
parking lot and sprinted into the building, waited impatiently for Nans to buzz her in, then practically ran to her apartment. The ladies were seated around Nans’ dining room table with cups of tea steaming in front of them.

Lexy collapsed into an empty chair, and Nans pushed a mug already filled with hot water toward her.

“Did you tell them about Wiggins?” Lexy asked Nans.

Nans nodded. “There’s more to this than a simple murder done in a fit of anger.”

“Yeah, but what?” Lexy picked through the basket of herbal teas in the center of Nans’ table. Settling on “Lemon Zinger”, she dunked the tea bag into the mug, the soothing scent of lemon wafted up to tickle her nose.

“I think we’ve made some assumptions in this case and it might be best if we start from the beginning … think it through logically,” Ruth said.

“I agree,” Helen added.

“Just like we would with any new case.” Ida slurped her tea. “Did you bring any pastries?”

Lexy grimaced. “No. Sorry. I rushed over from the police station.”

“That’s fine, dear.” Nans patted her hand. “I have some left over from the other day.”

“Helen, help me get out the white board so we can start tracking what we know,” Ruth said. The two women got up and headed down the hallway toward Nans’ bedrooms while Nans rummaged in the fridge.
 

A minute later, Helen and Ruth appeared in the hall … well mostly Helen’s backend appeared as she backed down the hall pulling the gigantic whiteboard which stood five feet tall and was about six feet wide. It was set in a wooden frame on wheels so Nans could move it around her apartment easily.
 

When the ladies were on a case, Nans set up her living and dining area as a command post and the white board stayed out there. If she was having visitors, she could simply wheel it into the spare bedroom.

Nans slid a crystal plate filled with pastries onto the dining room table and Ida eyed them uncertainly. “No biscotti?”
 

Nans raised a brow. “Really Ida, you can’t find something you like on there?”

Ida smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, you know how I love Lexy’s biscotti.”

“Ahem …” Ruth stood at the white board, marker in hand. “Are you guys ready to start?”

“Let’s list the suspects,” Nans said.

The room was silent while everyone thought about the suspects. The only suspect Lexy had was the fiancé, Stuart Wiggins. “Wiggins could have killed Veronica and Philippe, but then who killed Wiggins?”

“Good question,” Ida said. “Do you think we have two killers?”

“Perhaps. But I think it’s all related to one motive,” Nans answered.

“And what’s the motive?” Ruth asked.

“Well, at first we thought Wiggins killed Veronica in anger and Philippe just got in the way,” Lexy said. “But, maybe there is another motive that we haven’t considered.”

“The only things that ever drive people to kill are love and money.” Helen picked a cheese danish out of the box and bit into the edge.

“What if Philippe was the target and Veronica just got in the way?” Ida asked.

“Then how does Wiggins tie in?” Nans peered at Ida over the dainty china teacup she held to her lips.

“Good question,” Ida answered.

“I guess we need to do this the old fashioned way … list out all the people we need to talk to and then check them off one by one,” Helen said.

“Right.” Nans tapped her index finger on her lips. “Who do you think could give us information on the
Chez Philippe
murders? Our main suspect for that is Stuart Wiggins but since he’s dead we need to talk to anyone he was close to.”

Ruth made a “Suspects” column and wrote “Stuart’s associates” underneath. She turned to face them. “Can you think of anyone else?”

“If Philippe was the target, then someone close to him might have been the killer—his spouse or significant other,” Lexy said.

“Was he married?” Helen asked, taking another dainty bite of the Danish. “I thought he was gay.”

“Let’s get on the computer and see if we can find out anything about his marital status … girlfriends—or boyfriends,” Nans said. “And while you are at it, let’s check his financials … and Veronica’s too.”

Ruth made another column with “To Do” at the top and listed the items below it. “How about the fiancé?”

Nans nodded. “Yes, we should check his background and financials too.”
 

“I guess we should also talk to Veronica’s friends.” Nans turned to Lexy. “Do you know who she was friendly with … her maid of honor or bridesmaids?”

Lexy grimaced. The
last
person she wanted to talk to was Ramona. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“What’s her name?” Ruth asked from the whiteboard where she had her pen poised over the surface.

“Ramona Kazlowski.”
 

“Are you friendly with her?” Nans asked. “Can you ask her to lunch or something?”

“Not at all,” Lexy said. “She’d probably run the other way if she saw me coming … especially after the fight at
Chez Philippe
.

“Well, surely she’d be receptive to you if you wanted to give her your condolences on her friend’s death,” Ida said.

“Doubtful.”

“Who else should we talk to?” Nans asked.

“Philippe’s staff,” Helen answered, and Ruth wrote it down.

“Anyone else?” Ruth asked.

“That’s all I can think of,” Lexy said. The ladies murmured their agreement.

“So the question is … just how do we get access to these people?” Ida asked.

“Philippe’s staff should be easy. I’m sure the police have their names and addresses on record.” Nans slid her eyes toward Lexy. “And we all know Lexy has a way of getting information out of a certain police detective.”

Lexy fought the heat creeping into her cheeks.

“And maybe you can find out if all three were shot with the same gun and what type of gun it was while you are at it,” Ida added while Ruth scribbled it all down under the “To Do” column.

“I don’t know anything about the fiancé,” Lexy said. “But Nans said he worked at the Telbourne Museum … maybe we could ask around there? He might have been close to someone he worked with.”

“Good idea,” Ruth said, writing it on the board.

Nans walked over to the white board and studied it for a few seconds.
 

“I think we have a good start,” she said, turning to face them. “Once we talk to these people, other clues may be revealed.”

“I’ll start doing the internet research and looking at the financials,” Helen said.

“In the meantime, the rest of us can start asking the questions.” Nans looked around the group, her eyes shining with excitement. “You know, I’ve been dying to go visit that new exhibit at the Telbourne Museum … who wants to come with me?”

Chapter Twelve

Lexy flipped her phone open and pressed Cassie’s number as she pulled out of Nans’ parking lot.
 

“Hey, how did it go at the police station? Did you get your shoe?” Cassie asked.

Lexy’s stomach sank. Davies had rushed out to the scene of Wiggins' death and she never did get her shoe. Not that Davies was going to give it to her … in fact, it seemed like Davies suspected her even more now.

“No. Turns out Veronica’s fiancé was murdered too,” Lexy said. “So I guess I’m not off the suspect list yet.”

“What? Jeez this case sure is turning strange.”
 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Lexy turned left onto her street. “I just came from Nans’ and we have a plan in place to question some of the fiancé’s coworkers at the museum tomorrow. Can you take over at the bakery?”

“Of course.” Cassie’s voice crackled over the phone. “Why don’t you take the next couple of days off? I’m sure you have lots to do with the wedding plans too. To tell you the truth, I want you out of the kitchen so I can experiment with your cake.”

Lexy’s heart warmed—she was lucky to have a good friend like Cassie she could trust with her business.
 

“Thanks Cass,” she said. “Why don’t you ask Haley if she wants to work some extra hours to help out?” Earlier in the year, Lexy had hired a high school student, Haley, to work in the front after school. It would cost Lexy a little extra but it was nearly impossible to bake in the back room and sell pastries to the customers out front at the same time. Lexy figured Cassie would need the extra help.

“Sounds good—good luck with your interrogations,” Cassie said.

Lexy thanked her and hung up the phone just as she pulled up in front of her house. She eyed her parents RV as she got out of the car—she could hear them inside, but wasn’t sure she was in the mood for her mother’s boundless energy. What she really wanted was to talk to Jack about the case … and maybe even engage in some activities she
was
in the mood for.

She tiptoed past the RV and was half way to her front door when she heard the door rip open behind her.
 

“Lexy! I’m so glad you’re home!” Vera bounced in the doorway of the RV, her purple and yellow caftan floating up and down like a parachute.
 

“Hi, Mom.”

“I made you’re favorite meal … meatloaf,” Vera announced proudly.

Meatloaf
would
taste good right now, Lexy thought. And she didn’t have the heart to disappoint her mother.

“That sounds great, Mom.”

“Woof!” Sprinkles bounded past Vera’s legs aiming straight for Lexy who bent down to scoop the dog up in her arms.

“Hi Sprinks!” Lexy kissed the top of Sprinkles head and the dog wiggled with joy while trying to cover Lexy’s face with kisses.

“I brought her over to the RV this morning,” Vera said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I figured, why should she sit in there all alone when we’re right here?”

Lexy gently put Sprinkles on the ground. “No I don’t mind at all. I’m glad you did.”

“Okay, well dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, is that okay?”

“Yep, I’ll just run in and change, then come right over. Should I bring anything?”

 
“No. I have everything—even your favorite wine,” Vera said as she disappeared back into the RV.

Lexy ran into the house with Sprinkles following happily behind her. She went into the kitchen and poured some dog food in Sprinkles bowl, then snuck a peak out the window at Jack’s house.
 

Was he home?

She craned her neck to see his driveway—his truck was there. Maybe she would eat a quick dinner, and then pretend like she wanted to go to bed early and sneak over to Jack’s. She dug in her purse for her cell phone and texted her intentions to Jack, and then ran upstairs to change.