Ain't Seen Muffin Yet (Lexy Baker Cozy Mystery Series Book 15)

  Ain’t Seen Muffin Yet

  Lexy Baker Cozy Mystery Series Book 15

  Leighann Dobbs

  Contents

  DESCRIPTION

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Also by Leighann Dobbs

  About Leighann Dobbs

  DESCRIPTION

  The Brook Ridge Falls Retirement Center is still reeling over the death of one of their own when Lexy and her senior detective friends are asked to investigate another murder. Muriel Maguire insists that her grandson, Henry, has been framed for the murder of his wife, but the clues all point to Henry, and the police already have him in custody.

  The suspect list is long, including members of the victim’s family who have a very unusual and suspicious profession. Too bad the husband had motive and his alibi is flimsy. Is he guilty, or is he being framed?

  When the investigation leads them to a mysterious woman, the case takes a curious twist, and a contact inside the prison reveals stunning information that turns the case on its head. Plus, there is one odd clue the police have overlooked—a corn muffin.

  Chapter 1

  The Brook Ridge Falls Retirement Center buzzed with tension as Lexy Baker put the finishing touches on a triple-tiered platter loaded with pastries. The occasion was a debate being held between the two residents running for president of the small community center inside the retirement village. Lexy was catering the event, and she wanted everything to be perfect. The last president had met with an unfortunate accident that involved one of Lexy’s pies, and she was a little nervous that something might happen again. Not that the last incident had been her fault, but she didn’t want to get a reputation.

  Lexy adjusted a sprig of mint that decorated a tier of thickly frosted mint-chocolate bars and stood back to admire her handiwork. The hall was decorated in red, white, and blue streamers. Tables with crisp white linen tablecloths lined the side of the hall where Lexy stood. On the tables sat an assortment of Lexy’s pastries as well as piles of paper plates, napkins, and plasticware. At one end was a coffee urn and Styrofoam cups.

  The air was spiced with the smell of sugary pastry and percolating coffee. The muted sounds of plasticware scraping paper plates and people slurping coffee could be heard as background noise.

  Gray metal folding chairs were set in rows facing the front of the room, where Lexy’s grandmother’s dear friend Helen stood at a wooden podium. She was wearing a smart, tailored suit in dark gray and a contrasting magenta blouse. She looked great except for the fact that the podium was a little tall for her and her head only reached just above the top.

  Helen was facing off against another resident, Mario Blondini, in the retirement center’s version of a presidential debate. Each was giving their speech about what they brought to the table and why the residents should vote for them.

  The two had been campaigning hard for the position and had put up signs all over the retirement center grounds. There had already been two debates like this. This was the last one as voting would be in three days. Lexy couldn’t figure out why they put in such an effort. It seemed like a lot of work for a position that paid no money, but maybe when you were retired, having something to do—whether it paid or not—was a big deal.

  “Helen does not look happy.” Mona Baker, or Nans, as Lexy called her, had come to stand beside Lexy. The senior citizen was very observant. She had to be in order to run her detective agency, and Lexy noticed that while Helen did appear composed and commanding, the lines around her mouth were a little deeper, her brow a bit more furrowed.

  “Why is she unhappy?” Lexy asked.

  “Mario Blondini. Just listen to him. He’s one-upping her on everything!”

  Lexy turned her attention to the stage where Helen was speaking.

  “…and as community center president, I promise to replace those old plastic folding tables with nice new laminate ones!” Helen said.

  The crowd clapped.

  Mario cleared his throat and yelled above the crowd. “I promise cushioned folding chairs!”

  The crowd applauded more loudly.

  Mario had a smug look on his face as he glanced over at Helen, whose brows furrowed even deeper.

  “Just look at the way she’s cheering him on. Practically mouthing what to say at him,” a voice behind Lexy whispered. She turned to see Ida and Ruth, Helen and Nans’s other partners in crime-solving. Ida was nibbling on the corner of a flaky almond croissant. Ruth had her hair cut in a new silvery bob. Lexy noticed she wasn’t eating any of the pastries. A few weeks ago, Ruth had been on a low-carb diet, and that hadn’t worked out too well. She hoped Ruth wasn’t back on it—Lexy couldn’t imagine not eating pastry!

  “Who?” Nans asked. “Oh, you mean Endora? She does seem a bit controlling.”

  Lexy glanced to the corner of the room next to Mario, where Endora Saltinado stood. From what Lexy had gathered through the gossip mill, Endora was Mario’s new girlfriend. She looked quite a bit younger, especially in the tight sequined dress she was wearing. She looked like she was made up for a walk on the red carpet with her white-blond hair piled high on her head and flashy earrings and necklace. Not to mention the stilettos… Lexy couldn’t even wear shoes that high, and while Endora looked young for her age, she had to be at least pushing seventy.

  “She still keeps in shape, I see.” Ruth had followed Lexy’s gaze and was looking Endora up and down.

  “Mffeew… krumbbb… yoga.” Ida mumbled around her mouthful of croissant as she gestured to her own trim figure.

  Lexy was used to Ida talking with food in her mouth and easily translated the garbled sentence to “we keep in shape with yoga.” It was true. The four senior citizens were quite trim and spritely for their age, and that was largely due to their frequent yoga classes. While most seniors took care of their hearts for longevity reasons, Lexy suspected they did it so they could maneuver around crime scenes better. Their hobby was investigating murders, much to the dismay of Lexy’s husband, police detective Jack Perillo.

  “She used to be in their acrobatics show. That’s how she knows Mario,” Ruth said.

  Lexy turned to Ruth. “Acrobatics show?”

  “Mario and his family were big in the Circo Acrobata—you know, that act that travels around. It’s like Cirque du Soleil with trapeze and other acrobatics, but on stage.”

  Naturally, Lexy was familiar with Cirque du Soleil. She squinted at the front of the room, trying to picture Mario in tights then quickly looked away, trying to replace the unpleasant image. Mario was no looker. He had bushy white hair and matching bushy eyebrows that were now frowning at Helen. He was slightly hunched over and had a bit of a paunch. His gnarled, weathered hands clutched the podium as Helen listed off the improvements she intended to make if she were elected.

  “…and we’ll have a coffee social the first Saturday of every month complete with pastries from the Cup and Cake.” Helen nodded toward Lexy, and several people turned and clapped. Lexy’s bakery, the Cup and Cake, was a popular destination among the Bro
ok Ridge Falls retirement crowd, and she’d offered to provide the pastries at a deep discount for the Saturday socials.

  “I’m going to have sandwiches and pastries at mine!” Mario yelled then glanced back at Endora, who nodded her approval.

  “Helen is getting really mad now. Look how red her cheeks are,” Nans said.

  “Yeah, that Mario is very abrasive with his tactics.” Ida sidled over to a tray of cream cheese brownies and selected one.

  “I think he’s kind of cute,” Ruth said in a small voice.

  Lexy, Ida, and Nans turned to stare at her. She shrugged. “What? I mean, at least he has his hair. Besides, he just lost his granddaughter, so he is likely pouring his emotions into this campaign. I’m sure he’s not normally so loud and abrasive. Everyone deals with grief differently, you know.”

  “I suppose…” They turned their attention back to the front just as the two candidates were ending things. They managed to shake hands and thank each other. The crowd leapt up from their chairs and ran for the pastries and coffee. Helen made her way through the crowd toward them, shaking hands and smiling at folks on the way.

  “Did you see that? Mario kept one-upping me!” Helen scowled across the crowd at Mario, who was talking to folks, a fake smile on his face and Endora at his side.

  “He plays dirty,” Nans said.

  “Shameful!” Ida added.

  “I still think you’re the favorite,” Lexy assured Helen.

  “Don’t worry.” Ruth patted Helen’s arm. “It’s all going to work out just fine.”

  “Yeah, and look on the bright side. At least this meeting didn’t end in murder.” Ida glanced around at the crowd, her expression darkening when it fell on Mario. Mario glanced over at them, the smile fading from his face, menace glinting in his eyes. “Well, at least not yet.”

  Chapter 2

  Lexy and the ladies helped themselves to some pastries and stood around the coffee urn. As Ruth, Ida, Helen, and Nans chatted about the debate, Lexy was already forming her plan of attack for cleaning the place up. From her experience, the seniors loved to linger and none of them wanted to waste a pastry. She’d brought plastic containers so she could divvy up the leftovers and people could have containers to bring them home in rather than just wrap them in a napkin and shove them in their purses like Ida was so fond of doing.

  A woman shuffled up to Helen. She was about five feet tall, hair in a gray bun, blue-rimmed glasses, and a sadness hovering about her. She had a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand.

  “I saw what that Mario Blondini did to you. It was shameful,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Mario wasn’t there. “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”

  This caught Lexy’s attention. It sounded like the woman had prior dealings with Mario. It also caught Nans’s attention. Nans leaned closer to the old lady. “Why do you say that, Muriel?”

  Muriel’s face crumpled, and she looked near tears. “He’s the one who falsely accused my grandson Henry of murder!”

  Nans leaned even closer. “Murder?”

  Lexy glanced at Nans. She hadn’t heard of any murder.

  Muriel nodded. “I knew Henry never should have gotten involved with that girl. She was bad news from the start. They’re circus folk, for crying out loud! I told him it would come to no good.”

  “What happened, exactly?” Ida asked.

  Muriel sniffed. “They met at the Fourth of July picnic two years ago, and Henry was smitten. He never dated much, and I suppose her attentions went to his head. They married after six months!”

  “And things went bad?” Ruth asked.

  Muriel thought about that. “Not really. I think they were happy for a while.”

  “So why did he kill her?” Ida asked.

  Muriel threw her hands up in the air. “That’s the thing. He didn’t. Sure, the police had some trumped-up evidence, and Mario pushed for it, playing the grieving grandfather all while that tartlet was hanging on his arm. It was a setup. My Henry would never murder anyone.”

  “But the police must have had solid evidence against him.” Lexy felt like she should defend the police seeing as Jack was a detective. She was sure he would never arrest someone for murder without plenty of evidence.

  “They did, but they got it wrong.” Muriel took off her glasses and wiped them on a napkin then looked at Nans with tears clinging to her lashes, her eyes hopeful. “Anyway, I heard that you ladies are very good at solving murders, and I was hoping you’d look into this one.”

  Nans, Ruth, Ida, and Helen exchanged a look. Lexy held her breath. The four ladies had their own consulting business called the Ladies Detective Agency and had solved plenty of murders in the past. They were sought after by people who thought the police weren’t solving the murders of their loved ones fast enough. They were quite good at it, too. Even Jack had asked them to consult on a few cases. Lexy was itching to look into another case, but they’d never investigated one where the police had already charged the killer. Jack might not be happy about them questioning the arrest.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.” Nans glanced at the others, who all nodded enthusiastically.

  Muriel perched her glasses back on her nose, her demeanor having brightened. “Great. Let’s go back to my apartment and away from prying ears. I have some documentation from the case there that I want to show you.”

  Muriel’s apartment was in building C of the retirement center, where Nans, Ruth, Ida, and Helen all lived. Lexy followed along, figuring the crowd could plow through more pastries in her absence and there would be less of them to clean up.

  Muriel had her place decorated in 1970s senior citizen. Old maple furniture. A shag rug. Doilies. It smelled a bit like day-old cabbage. Ida wrinkled her nose but was polite enough not to say anything as they sat around the mahogany dining room table.

  “Would you like coffee?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Do you have any pastries to go with it?” Ida asked. The others turned to her with incredulous looks on their faces at her rudeness. Lexy wasn’t surprised—Ida liked her snacks.

  “I have some Lorna Dunes. Will that do?”

  “Nicely,” Ida said.

  Muriel made the coffee and broke out some Lorna Dunes, which she spread out on a crystal plate.

  Once they were all seated with steaming mugs on the table, napkins on their laps, and a cookie on each of their plates, Muriel opened the drawer of her doily-covered credenza and pulled out a manila folder. She placed it in the middle of the table and flipped it open.

  The ladies all craned their necks to glimpse the contents. Nans put on her reading glasses and rifled through the sheets. Lexy was seated across the table from Nans, and even though the papers were upside down, she recognized the papers as police reports and crime scene photos. The name of the victim—Rosa Maguire—was printed at the top.

  The ladies passed the papers around as they munched on the sugary shortbread cookies. Finally, Nans looked up at Muriel. “Why don’t you tell us why you think your grandson is being framed.”

  Muriel shifted in her chair. “My Henry is a good boy. He’s a doctor, sworn to protect life, not take it. And that family.” Muriel shook her head. “Well, you saw the way Mario has been acting with this election, Helen. The rest of the family is no better. I say one of them did her in for whatever reason and tried to frame Henry. He couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Good point,” Helen says. “Mario is shifty. He keeps replacing my signs with his! And I think he has been spying on me and somehow figured out what I was going to propose for improvements so he could do one better.”

  “Why would her own family kill her?” Ida dunked a Lorna Dune in her coffee.

  “Who knows. They’re unpredictable. Henry was at work that night. He came home and found her like that.” Muriel pointed to the crime scene photo where a woman lay sprawled in a pool of blood on a kitchen floor. Lexy studied it more closely. A chair was overturned
, plates and muffins still on the table. There was a spray of blood on the cabinets.

  “How was she killed?” Nans asked.

  “With the very butter knife she’d used to serve butter for those muffins!” Muriel’s eyes teared up.

  “A butter knife?” Ruth asked. “How can you kill someone with one of those?”

  “It’s easy if you know the right spot.” Nans pulled the photo closer to her to inspect it. “Judging by the blood spray, I’d say they got her right in the carotid artery. Even a dull knife can do damage if it’s pressed hard enough. She probably bled out fast.”

  Helen pulled the photo in front of her. “Doesn’t look like much of a struggle. The killer must have known exactly where to press. Maybe even surprised her from behind. That would take special knowledge of the anatomy, though.” She looked up at Muriel. “Didn’t you say Henry was a doctor?”

  Muriel squirmed in her seat. “Yes.”

  Nans studied Muriel over the rim of her glasses. “So why do the police suspect Henry? If he was working, wouldn’t he have an alibi? Where does he work?”

  “He works in the emergency room at St. Mary’s hospital. He was there that night, but there was some discrepancy in the timing of his alibi.” Muriel looked down at her hands in her lap. “He’s a good boy. He’s even teaching the inmates chess. He’s a model prisoner and gets to sit in the common area near the library for four hours a day because of his good behavior.”

  Lexy raised her left brow at Nans. Henry wouldn’t be the first murderer that was lauded for good behavior. It sounded like his alibi was shaky at best. Was this just a grandmother being blinded by love for her grandson, or was there more to it?