Bake, Battle & Roll (A Lexy Baker Bakery Cozy Mystery) Page 5

  “He might have been dragged there to buy some time for the killer. If the feet weren’t sticking out he might not have been found until hours later.” Nans pinched her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “The smell of the dumpster would have masked any smells from the body.”

  “And that would imply the killer wanted to get far away … so maybe it wasn’t someone from the kitchen,” Helen said.

  “Or, he was lured to the other side of the dumpster by the killer, who stabbed him, then took off down the path,” Ida added.

  “Either way, that indicates we should also consider suspects that weren’t in the kitchen,” Nans said.

  “Which ties in with what I found online.” Ruth held up the iPad.

  Lexy’s eyebrows shot up. “What did you find?”

  “Well, it seems your chef was involved in some sort of chili contest,” Ruth said.

  Lexy nodded remembering Brad’s order that she make the cornbread was the catalyst for her finding Dugasse in the first place. “Yes, I know.”

  “Well, it seems this chili contest can be quite lucrative and it’s very competitive … some newspaper articles describe it as ‘cutthroat.’”

  “Why?” Helen asked.

  “The usual reason. Money. The winner gets a national brand so not only will they get the money from chili sales, but their name will become a household word which will lead to other endorsements, cookbooks etc. …” Ruth looked up at them. “Winning that contest could be worth millions.”

  “Did he ever talk about the contest? His rivals, or anything?” Nans asked Lexy.

  “I never heard him say anything.” Lexy spread her hands wishing she’d paid more attention to Dugasse, the truth was she kind of zoned out whenever he started droning on.

  “Well, that’s something to look into then.” Ruth crossed to the board and added ‘Chili Contest’ to the list.

  “And that brings us to the pink Cadillac.” Helen pointed to the words on the white board.

  “Too bad we can’t ask Jack to just look that up in the database,” Ida said.

  “Well, luckily a pink Cadillac is unusual, so I’m going to start by doing a search on newspaper articles. Then if that doesn’t pan out, I’ll hack into the motor vehicles database.” Ruth looked up at them and widened her eyes, putting her hand over her mouth. “Ooops … I mean I’ll look elsewhere.”

  The other women laughed, then gathered behind Ruth to look over her shoulder as she searched.

  After a minute she said, “Got it!”

  She held the iPad up. “Here’s a picture of the exact same car I saw in the parking lot. The article is about a semi-celebrity that’s staying in the area at the Sheraton Hotel. You know the fancy five star one, on the side of the mountain?”

  “Yes,” Nans, Ida, Helen and Lexy all said. Everyone knew that hotel. It was the height of luxury.

  “Well, apparently she loves pink. Pink car. Pink clothes. Pink purse. Even a pink dog.”

  Lexy wrinkled her brow and bent closer to the iPad. Sure enough, it showed a middle-aged blonde with gigantic pink sunglasses holding a furry dyed-pink Pomeranian.

  “What’s that have to do with our case?” Nans wondered.

  Lexy grabbed the iPad and scanned the article. Her heart jerked in her chest when she looked at the caption under the picture. She sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the four women.

  “The owner of the pink Cadillac is Victoria Dugasse … Chef Dugasse’s wife.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Thanks for making the cake, Lexy,” Nans said as she slid into the backseat of Ruth’s gigantic Oldsmobile beside Lexy.

  Lexy looked down at the red velvet cake on the seat beside her. She’d had to cut her beach time with Jack short to make it yesterday afternoon and he’d been unusually understanding. In fact, he seemed strangely disinterested in the case and the fact that she was a murder suspect.

  “Lexy?”

  “Oh sorry, I was just thinking how Jack seems only interested in fishing, he didn’t even care that we were going to visit Victoria Dugasse today. Normally he’d have all kinds of warnings about butting into police stuff.”

  Ida turned in the front seat to face her.

  “Oh, that's how they get. When it comes to fishing they become obsessed. I know Norman is. He has only fishing on his mind … well that and one other thing.” Ida winked at Lexy who shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unwanted pictures of Ida and Norman bubbling up in her mind.

  Ruth maneuvered the car out of the resort and headed up the highway. Lexy wondered how she managed—her eyes barely cleared the top of the steering wheel. Lexy tested her seatbelt to make sure it was fastened properly.

  “Do you really think she’ll buy our ruse of wanting to give our condolences?” Helen asked.

  “I don’t see why not. It’s the proper thing to do,” Nans replied. “Besides, we’ll make it seem like we are on official business from the resort, then she’ll be more likely to talk to us.”

  “Hopefully we can get her to open up enough to tell us where she was that morning,” Ida said. “Because if she wasn’t in the kitchen …”

  “… She could have been out by the dumpster with Dugasse.” Nans finished the sentence.

  “Well I doubt she’s going to tell us she killed him.” Lexy cringed as Ruth turned into the parking lot for the hotel, her back tires going up over the curb and crushing a bed of petunias.

  “No, but hopefully we’ll be able to tell if she’s hiding something,” Nans said as Ruth parked the car.

  Everyone got out. Lexy grabbed the cake and followed the four women into the gigantic hotel, happy to have gotten there in one piece.

  The lobby was sumptuous. Lexy’s sandals sunk into thick carpeting in a dark blue and gold pattern as she walked past the giant marble table that held a vase of flowers which must have been six feet tall and three feet wide. A crystal chandelier sparkled above the flowers.

  Nans walked past the oak paneled front desk and straight to the elevators. Ruth had somehow gotten the room number so they knew just where to go. They rode the elevator up to the eighth floor, turned left and walked the fifty feet to room 845.

  Nans knocked on the door. Lexy heard the safety chain slide, then the door opened a crack. A baby blue eye peeked out at them.

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Dugasse?” Nans asked.

  “Yes.” The door swung open to reveal a tall blonde who raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows at them. Lexy noticed she was wearing an expensive pink silk sleeveless shirt and white capri-length pants. Her bare feet sported petal pink painted toenails and gigantic pink diamonds glittered in her ears.

  “We’re from Lakeshore Resort. We’d like to express our condolences,” Nans said as Lexy shoved the cake in Victoria’s face.

  “Oh. Do come in.” The door swung open and they stepped inside while introducing themselves.

  “Please call me Victoria,” their host said as she took the cake from Lexy. “Would you like a piece?”

  “No thanks,” Nans said and the rest of them shook their heads.

  Victoria put the cake on a sideboard and gestured them further into the opulent suite. They settled in the living room—Victoria, Nans and Ida picked out chairs while Ruth, Helen and Lexy shared the sofa. The room was decorated with French provincial furniture in off white. Pink curtains and throw pillows accented the white upholstered sofa and chairs. Lexy wondered if the hotel just happened to have a pink room or if Victoria had redecorated.

  A white Pomeranian with pink tipped fur pitter patted into the room.

  “You dyed your dog’s fur?” Lexy asked.

  “Yes, well, just the ends.” Victoria picked the tiny pooch up—a girl Lexy assumed by the pink bow—kissed the top of her head, then set the dog on her lap. “My hairdresser says it is quite safe.”

  A motion to Lexy’s left caught her attention. She turned her head and felt her eyebrows shoot up. It was a maid, in a black and white uniform. Who has a maid in a h
otel room?

  “Oh Myra, why don’t you bring us some lemonade.” Victoria glanced at Nans and the rest of them who nodded. “Six lemonades, then.”

  Myra disappeared and Nans put her hand on Victoria’s arm. “We’re so sorry about the loss of your husband.”

  “Thank you.” Victoria dabbed at her eyes with a tissue even though there were no tears. Lexy noticed that pink and white diamond rings were stacked on almost all of her fingers. Her wrist displayed a flashy Rolex watch.

  “You knew Alain?” She asked after the appropriate amount of eye dabbing.

  Nans nodded. “We enjoyed his food. Lexy here is the pastry chef in the kitchen at the resort.”

  “Chef Dugasse will be missed,” Lexy said forcing a smile at Victoria, then crossing her fingers behind her back and hoping not to get struck by lightning.

  The maid came in saving Lexy from having to say anything more. She handed out crystal glasses filled with lemonade—pink lemonade, of course.

  With the formalities dispensed, Nans got right to the point. “You were there that morning, right?”

  Victoria’s eyes went wide. “Well … I …”

  “I noticed your lovely pink car,” Ruth said. “It’s quite distinctive … hard to miss.”

  “Oh, yes. I suppose I was there. Earlier.” Victoria took a sip of lemonade.

  “To see your husband?” Nans asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you had a fight.” Nans persisted.

  Victoria’s eyebrows mashed together. “How did you know that?”

  “Oh, one hears things …” Nans waved her hands. “It must be very disturbing to you to have been fighting right before he … well, you know.”

  “Yes, it is very sad for my last memory to be of that fight. Although I doubt Alain would feel the same way.”

  Nans looked at Victoria over the rim of her lemonade glass. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, Alain was having an affair.”

  ###

  Nans eyebrows shot up. “An affair? What makes you say that?”

  Victoria shrugged. “He had been sneaking off at around two in the morning on several nights. He thought I didn’t notice that he got up early and left.”

  “And you confronted him about that?” Ida asked.

  “Yes, of course. I used it as leverage to stop him from curtailing my spending.” Victoria waved her hand around the room. “I need to be kept in the manner to which I’ve become accustomed.”

  “What did he say when you confronted him?” Lexy asked.

  “He denied having the affair. Typical cheater.” Victoria studied her frosty pink nails. Lexy noticed that she didn’t seem very upset about the affair or his death.

  “Do you have any idea who he was having the affair with?”

  “Nope. It could have been anyone,” Victoria said.

  “So, you were using the knowledge of the affair as leverage to keep your spending habits, but why? How would that help you?”

  “It’s all in the prenup. Alain would lose a lot of money if he had an affair.”

  Lexy saw Nans exchange glances with Ida, Ruth and Helen.

  “But, if you killed him, then you’d get to keep all the money either way,” Nans said.

  Victoria’s back stiffened.

  “Is that what you think? That I killed him?” She dumped the pink pooch on the floor and shot out of her chair. Storming over to the door, she held it open gesturing for them to leave.

  Lexy took the hint and got up from her chair as did Nans, Ruth, Ida and Helen. They filed out the door.

  Victoria stood in the doorway and watched them go.

  “And for your information,” she yelled after them, “I didn’t need, or want to kill him. The truth is Alain would have made even more money after he won the Chili Battle. So, you see, he was worth much more to me alive than dead.”

  ###

  “She didn’t seem too upset about her husband being dead,” Lexy said once they were strapped into Ruth’s Oldsmobile and heading back to the resort.

  “But she sure got upset when she thought we were accusing her of killing him,” Ida added.

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean she killed him.” Ruth looked at Lexy in the rear view mirror.

  “I doubt she is the killer,” Nans said. “If Dugasse was going to become even richer because of winning the Chili Battle, it wouldn’t be in her best interest to kill him.”

  “Unless he was going to divorce her and leave her out in the cold,” Ida ventured. “Maybe that's what they argued about.”

  Lexy pressed her lips together. “I wonder who he was sneaking off to see in the early morning. That seems like an odd time to meet a secret lover.”

  “I bet it was that Sylvia Spicer. They had a lover’s spat and she killed him,” Ruth said.

  Lexy blew out a whoosh of air. “Maybe. There’s a lot of things we still need to look into. Like where that other trail leads and if Sylvia really was in the freezer when Dugasse was being stabbed. And we need to find out more about this chili contest. How come everyone is so certain that Dugasse was going to win?”

  “Good question,” Nans said. “We do have our work cut out for us.”

  Ruth rolled down her window and stuck her hand out to signal for the turn.

  “Ruth, you know that most everyone uses the directionals on the steering column now, right?” Ida turned around and rolled her eyes at Nans, Helen and Lexy in the back seat.

  Ruth ignored her and made the turn, almost clipping the outer corner of the sign for the resort.

  “Do you want me to drop you off at your cottage, Lexy?” Ruth asked.

  Lexy glanced at her watch. “Actually, why don’t you drop me off at the dining lodge? I have to make tarts today, but I’m going to do a bit of poking around first … to see if I can get any of these questions answered.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ruth dropped Lexy off at the main entrance to the dining hall. The dining room was empty at this time of day and Lexy skirted her way down the cedar log wall, in between the rustic tables, and past the giant window that had a panoramic view of the lake. She turned left at the two story stone fireplace, then ducked into an obscure hallway that led to the restaurant offices.

  Lexy stopped at a large office. Prescott Charles, the restaurant manager, was sitting at his desk in a crisp white short sleeved shirt and light blue tie. Lexy tapped softly on the door.

  Prescott looked up from the paperwork he had been studying. “Hi, Lexy. Come on in.”

  He half stood indicating for Lexy to sit in a faux leather chair across from his desk. Lexy noticed a musky scent lingering in the air as she entered the room. It niggled something in her memory, but she didn’t have time to dig deep enough to figure out what it was.

  “So, what can I do for you?” Prescott steepled his fingers together, his light green eyes questioning her from behind his mahogany desk. Behind him, Lexy noticed a wall of bookshelves filled with various books on subjects ranging from restaurant management to log cabin building to decorating. Family photos of Prescott with his wife and kids dotted the shelves.

  Lexy shifted in her chair, suddenly thinking maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Prescott raised his brows.

  “Um … Well, I was wondering if there’s any type of surveillance in the kitchen. You know cameras that record what’s going on,” Lexy said.

  “Surveillance? Why would you want to know about that?”

  “Well, umm … Detective Payne seems to think I’m his best suspect for Dugasse’s murder and I was thinking the cameras would prove I was in the kitchen when it happened,” Lexy lied. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason was that she wanted to know if Sylvia Spicer really was in the freezer like she claimed. She didn’t want to cast any aspersions on Sylvia if she was innocent.

  “We don’t have anything like that in the kitchen,” Prescott said, avoiding eye contact with her.

  “Oh, okay.” Lexy got up to leave, then turned at the d
oor. “You didn’t happen to notice anything strange going on with Sylvia Spicer and Chef Dugasse, did you?”

  Prescott jerked in his chair. His elbow hit a cup full of pens and they spilled out on to the floor. He bent down to pick them up and Lexy walked back to the desk and squatted down to help.

  Prescott looked at her from under the desk. “Why do you ask that? I didn’t notice anything.” His voice was choppy, nervous.

  “Well, it’s probably nothing, but she said something kind of funny to me when we were out at the dumpster after I found Dugasse.” Lexy handed him the pens she’d gathered and they both stood up.

  “What was that?” Prescott wrinkled his brows at her.

  “She asked if we should hide the body.”

  Prescott sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide, the pencil holder clattering to the floor, pens spilling out all over again.

  “What?” He stared at Lexy, his face growing red. He reached up to loosen his tie.

  Lexy had a momentary pang of guilt. She felt bad talking about Sylvia … but it was true and asking around might be the only way to find out what really happened.

  “She was probably just so distraught …” Lexy bent down to help with the pens again but Prescott waved her off.

  “I can pick these up.” His eyes slid to the door inviting her to leave. “Please close the door behind you.”

  “Okay, well … thanks,” Lexy said, not sure what she was thanking him for.

  She backed out of the office, closing the door quietly behind her. She stood there for a minute, thinking about Prescott’s reaction. Why had he been so nervous when she asked about Sylvia and Dugasse?

  A faint rustle in the hallway behind her and the scent of musk caught her attention. She whirled around. The hallway was empty, but she had turned just in time to see the doorway to the first office slowly closing.

  She crept over to the door which was open just a crack. Someone was standing just behind it. Hiding. Lexy reached out, grabbed the knob and wrenched the door open, her heart jerking wildly in her chest as she looked up into the face of Sylvia Spicer.