Mummified Meringues (8 page)

“Hi, Mom!”
 

“Lexy? Is that you?” Vera Baker’s voice blasted out of the phone at its usual high volume, causing Lexy to hold the phone six inches away from her ear.

“Yes, Mom. How are you?”

“Oh, good, dear. What about you? Is Jack treating you okay?”

“Yes, he is, Mom. Where are you guys now?” Lexy had given up on trying to keep track of her nomadic parents who were traveling across North America in a haphazard manner. One week, they could be in Nevada, then the next week, Florida, then the next, Canada. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it, but Lexy figured if they were having a good time then who was she to question it?

“We’re in the desert of Maine.”

“There’s a desert there?” Lexy cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder while she reached for the bakery box on the passenger seat, then she got out of the car and started across the parking lot.

Vera sighed. “You never heard of it? It used to be three hundred acres, but now it’s about forty-five. You had better hurry if you want to see it, though. They say it will be gone in fifty years.”

Lexy frowned at the phone. She’d never heard of any disappearing desert. “Gone? Where would it go?”

“The forest is reclaiming it,” Vera said in an exasperated tone.

Lexy could hear clinking and muttering in the background as she opened the glass door and slipped into the lobby. “What’s that noise in the background?”

“Oh, it’s just your father.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Oh, he’s just tinkering with the RV.”

“Tinkering?” Lexy felt a wave of uneasiness wash over her. “Is something wrong with it?”

Silence.

“Mom?”

“It’s just a little minor problem, Lexy. Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure? I could send you some money—”

“Don’t be silly! We don’t need money … your father’s calling for me. I gotta go.”

“Okay, Mom. Say hi to Dad and you guys take care.”
 

“You, too. Say hi to Mona for us!”

Vera hung up and Lexy found herself standing outside Nans door, frowning down at her phone. Was something wrong with the RV? Nans had mentioned they’d been having trouble.
 

Her gut twisted—even though she’d offered to send her parents money, she’d been glad her mother had refused because she really didn’t have any extra. She’d sunk every last dime into renovations at the bakery and was counting on the sale of Jack’s house to replenish some of those funds and pay her parents back.
 

She raised her fist and knocked sharply on Nans’ door. She really needed to kick this investigation into high gear—not only so she could clear Jack from the suspect list, but also so she could get the house sold and the money to help her parents.

***

“Lexy, come in.” Nans opened the door and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee floated out into the hallway.
 

Ruth, Ida and Helen waved at Lexy from their seats around Nans’ mahogany dining room table as she crossed the small foyer, then put the box in the center of the table.
 

“Coffee?” Nans asked from the small kitchen adjacent to the dining room.

“Yes, please.” Lexy had rushed out of the house without her morning cup and had been too busy checking her rear-view mirror on the ride over to stop for coffee. She was practically comatose with lack of caffeine.
 

Ruth pulled out a chair and gestured for Lexy to sit while Nans shoved a mug in her hand. Lexy sipped the steaming brew gratefully.
 

“What did you bring?” Ida lifted the lid of the bakery box enthusiastically, her smile fading as she looked inside. “Don’t you have any scones?”

Lexy narrowed her eyes. “No. Why? What’s wrong with the cookies?”

The ladies exchanged a look. Ruth cleared her throat. Helen looked down at the floor. Nans got up and made herself busy in the kitchen.

“What?” Lexy repeated.

“Well, the meringues aren’t bad,” Ida said.

“But…” Lexy drew the word out.

“They just need more sugar,” Ruth shrugged. “I’m sure they’d be perfect if they were just a bit sweeter.”

“This is a new batch with more sugar than the last batch.”

“Oh?” Ida raised her brows and the ladies all reached in and pulled out a cookie.

Lexy watched as Ida bit into hers and made a face. “Better try again, dear. Still needs more sweetener if you want to beat Violet.”

Lexy’s spirits sank. “More? I’ve upped the recipe twice now.”

Ida glanced at the others and they nodded.
 

“Sorry, but it’s better we tell you now so you can adjust,” Ruth said.

“Yep, you know Violet won’t make any mistakes with her meringue,” Helen added.

“Speaking of Violet. Does she have a red Mustang convertible?” Lexy asked.

“Yes, I believe she does.” Helen folded the half-eaten meringue cookie up in her napkin.

Ida nodded. “She won it in a slots tournament down at Foxwoods.”

“Sheesh, is there nothing this woman doesn’t win?” Lexy asked.

Ida, Ruth and Helen shrugged.
 

“Not that we know of,” Ruth said. “What about you, Mona?”

“What?” Nans looked in from the kitchen, a yellow gingham dishtowel in her hand.

“Violet Switzer. Have you ever seen her lose anything?”

“Switzer …” Nan scrunched up her face. “I’m not sure I know her.”

“Sure, you do,” Ruth said. “The one Ida is always complaining about.”

“Oh, right. I don’t know anything about her losing anything.” Nans sat down at the head of the table. “Why are we talking about her?”

“Yeah, good question,” Helen said. “We should be talking about the mummy case.”

“Yes, let’s get back to business,” Ruth added.”What’s the plan?”

They looked at Nans, who shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t really have one. I’m a bit out of the loop.”

“Right,” Ida took over. “Here’s what we’ll do. Mona, you and Lexy are going to talk to the McDonalds. Find out if the basement was bare blocks or had that cement stucco on it. Then maybe we’ll know if O’Keefe was lying to us or not.”

“Helen and I will use our ‘resources’ to see if there was any funny financial business going on with O’Keefe,” Ruth said.

“Very good,” Ida nodded. “Time is of the essence so we’ll double up. Let’s meet back here and figure out where to go after that.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Ruth stuck her fist out for a knuckle tap and the others did the same, then Lexy and Nans pushed back their chairs and started for the door.

Lexy opened the door and was just about to step out into the hall when she remembered something important. She turned to look at Ruth, Ida and Helen who were still seated at Nans table. “What about the cookies?”

The three women looked at each other and Ida made a face. “Sorry, dear. They still need more sugar.”

***

Out in the hallway, Nans slowed to a crawl. She slipped on her crystal-studded fuchsia reading glasses and rummaged in her purse. “Why don’t you go ahead and get the car. I need to make a quick call.”

Lexy sensed Nans didn’t want her listening in. Was she calling the mysterious boyfriend? Lexy couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. I’ll meet you out front.”

Nans came out of the lobby doors just as Lexy pulled the car up, and they headed off in the direction of the McDonalds’ senior living facility. Lexy was bursting with curiosity about this boyfriend that was causing Nans to act so secretive.
 

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Lexy asked.

Nans stiffened in her seat turning startled eyes on Lexy. “No. What do you mean?”

Lexy shrugged. “I heard you met a nice man …”

“Oh.” Nans relaxed back into her seat, a smile curling her lips as she stared out the window. “Well, that’s not anything I want to talk about right now.”

“Oh, sorry.” Lexy grimaced—she was dying to know about him but didn’t want to invade Nans’ privacy. Luckily, they’d reached the senior living facility and Lexy could change the subject.

“Have you been here? The place is pretty nice,” Lexy said as they walked to the building together.

“Yes, I’ve visited them a few times.” Nans held the door for Lexy, then proceeded in the direction of the McDonalds apartment.

“Do you visit them often?” Lexy asked.

Nans shrugged. “Not too often, but we still keep in touch a bit. All the old neighbors are still quite close.”
 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Lexy said. “When I talked to them, they seemed a little … umm … forgetful.”

“Well, that comes with the age. I visited them here not that long ago, and they seemed right as rain,” Nans said as she rapped on the door.

The door opened almost immediately and Lois’s face peered out, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw them. “Why, Mona, what a surprise! We haven’t seen you in ages.”

Nans frowned. “I was here the other day, Lois. Remember?”

“Oh, yes, of course. How silly of me. Time does get away from you at my age.” She opened the door and gestured them in.

“Hi, ladies,” Charles said from the recliner. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t get up. My hip is acting up today.”

“Of course,” Lexy said as she and Nans took seats on the couch.
 

Lois pulled a chair in from the kitchen and perched on the edge. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Nans nodded at Lexy, who said, “I had some questions about the basement in Jack’s house … your old house … again.”

“Oh, right. Terrible thing with that body and all.” Lois clutched at Charlie’s arm. “Do they know how it got there? Or when? Was it in our basement the whole time we lived there?”

“They’re not sure yet,” Lexy said. “But, we were wondering about the basement walls. The room was made by building a false wall and covering it with a cement coating. The builder said that the cinderblocks were exposed when he sold it to you. He said all the houses were that way.”

Lois’s eyes slide toward Nans and then Charlie. “Well, I don’t know if I remember. It was so long ago.”

“I checked my basement and it’s cinderblock,” Lexy said.

“Oh, no, we always kept it locked,” Lois said. “No one could get in.”

“No.” Lexy raised her voice a few decibels. “I said cinderblock.”

“Yes, I think they are made of cinderblock,” Charlie said. “Unless you refinished them and they put some stucco cement coating on it to pretty it up.”

“But was yours cinderblock when you moved in?” Lexy asked.

“I’m not sure.” Charlie tapped the side of his head. “My memory isn’t as good as it used to be. Do you remember, Mona?”

“I remember looking at it after you started the remodel and the walls were stucco, but I’m not sure if it was that way before,” Nans said.

Lois’s brows furrowed, causing wrinkles in her wrinkles. She looked at Lexy. “Why is this so important?”

“The builder claims the basement was raw cinderblocks when he sold it to you. I was thinking if you remembered that it was stucco when you moved in, it would prove he was lying and make him a suspect.”

“Oh, dear.” Lois looked at Nans. “Well, I wouldn’t want to point the finger at someone who might be innocent if I wasn’t sure. Did the police pinpoint the time of death to a date before we bought the house?”

“I haven’t heard anything about an exact date, yet,” Lexy said. “But it must have happened before you moved in—otherwise, surely you would have noticed.”

“Yes, of course,” Lois said. “Well, I’m sorry if we can’t be much help. Our memories are not so good. And I feel just terrible this has happened in our old house … and now you and George have to deal with it.”

“Jack,” Lexy said.

“Did you say track? I don’t know if you’re on the right track.” Lois stood up. “If you could pinpoint the timeframe that person was killed, we might be able to help. It seems there was a stranger around the neighborhood and I wonder if he would have had something to do with it.”

“You mentioned that before, but I don’t see how it could be relevant to this case.” Lexy followed Lois to the door.

“Now, don’t be too hasty, dear,” Nans said. “We need to consider every angle.”

Lexy doubted that would be the case. How could a stranger possibly have made a secret room and put a body in the basement without the McDonalds knowing?
 

They said their goodbyes, and Lexy and Nans headed to the car. Nans seemed more interested in getting back to the retirement center in a hurry than she was in talking about the case, so the ride back was quiet. By the time Lexy dropped her off and headed back to the bakery, she was feeling a little down in the dumps.
 

Not only was Nans’ lack of interest in the case disappointing, their trip to the McDonalds’ hadn’t given her any useful information, so she still had nothing concrete with which to nail Tom O’Keefe. She could only hope that her next stop would be more informative.