Bake, Battle & Roll (7 page)

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 door. “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.

###

Sylvia stood in front of her, eyes wide, mouth forming a surprised “Oh.” She held something behind her back. A chef’s knife? Images of herself as the next victim flashed through Lexy’s mind and she took a step backward into the hall.

“What are
you
doing here?” Lexy asked.

“What are you?” Sylvia’s eyes darted around the room and out into the hall.

“I came to ask Prescott about … something.” Lexy leaned to the left to get a view of what Sylvia had behind her back.

Sylvia whipped her hand out from behind her back in one fluid motion and Lexy’s heart jumped into her throat. 

“I came to drop off this invoice,” she said, indicating the piece of paper she’d been holding behind her back.

Lexy’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned against the doorjamb. Sylvia shot nervous glances at Prescott’s door.

“Hey Sylvia, I was wondering something,” Lexy said.

“What?”

“When we were out by the dumpster, you said something about hiding Dugasse’s body. Why would you say that?”

Sylvia’s eyes jerked over to Prescott’s door again before she louvered them back at Lexy. 

“I did? I must have been so distraught that I didn’t know what I was saying.” Sylvia shrugged. “Why would I want you to hide the body?”

“That’s what I was wondering,” Lexy said, then she narrowed her eyes at Sylvia. “Did you get the head chef job … to replace Dugasse?”

“Yes. Prescott … I mean, Mr. Charles promoted me to head chef.”

“Congratulations. So it looks like Dugasse’s death was good for you in that respect. But I bet you miss him.” 

Sylvia wrinkled her brow and Lexy leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “I heard you were very close with someone here.”

Sylvia’s face turned red and her eyes did more darting around. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Well, you know sometimes men in a position of power can be very attractive … even if they
are
married.” Lexy gave Sylvia her best ‘you can confide in me’ look.

Sylvia’s eyes grew wide. “What did you …”

“Well, sometimes things go wrong and people get hurt. And that might cause the wounded party to do something they wouldn’t normally do … you know out of passion.”

Sylvia glared at her. “Are you implying
I
killed Chef Dugasse because I was mad at him?”

“Oh no, I’m just saying bad things can happen sometimes when you get involved.” Lexy’s heart leapt into her throat when she saw the menacing look on Sylvia’s face. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I do know that Dugasse got what he deserved … it just wasn’t at my hands.” Sylvia spat out the words, then brushed past Lexy and stormed off down the hall in the opposite direction of Prescott Charles' office, the invoice apparently forgotten.

Lexy stared after her wondering what she meant by ‘Dugasse got what he deserved’.
Was Dugasse involved in something that got him killed?

Lexy stood in the hall, her lips pursed going over her exchange with Sylvia when she thought she saw a shadow moving under the door to Chef Dugasse’s office. 

Who would be in there?
 

She crept down the hall. The door was open just slightly and she craned her neck, her heartbeat picking up speed at what she saw inside. Brad Meltzer had one of the desk drawers open and was rummaging through it. 

Lexy held her breath. She stood off to one side and prayed Brad wouldn’t look over and see her. She watched as he pawed through the drawer, then moved on to the next drawer, then the next and finally started leafing through cookbooks that were stacked on the desk. 

What was he doing?

Lexy stepped closer to the door and pushed it open. Brad jumped away from the desk, jerking his head in her direction. His eyes narrowed when he saw Lexy standing there.

“Looking for something?” Lexy asked.

She saw a ripple of anxiety cross Brad’s face, then he composed himself and looked down at the desk. 

“I needed the schedule … chef made it out on Monday.” Brad picked up the sheet of paper that had been lying in plain sight on the desk and then started out of the room brushing past Lexy who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed against her chest. She stared after him as he went off down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Looking back into the room, she felt an icy chill run up her spine. All of Dugasse’s notes and personal effects were in here and, in light of the fact that he had been murdered, she didn’t think anyone was supposed to be in his office … much less rummaging around in the drawers. The schedule was important, but it had been sitting on the top of the desk, surely Brad didn’t need to rummage around to find it. 

Which begged the question … what exactly
was
Brad looking for?

Chapter Ten

Deena had the day off, and Lexy was able to whip up the tarts for that evening’s dessert at record speed since she didn’t have to take time out for giving instructions. Once finished, she threw her apron in the laundry basket and headed off for some well-deserved beach time. 

At her cottage, she changed into a white and blue striped one piece and threw on a long sleeved white shirt as a cover-up. Tossing Sprinkles a treat, she shoved a towel in her oversized beach bag and headed down to the small beach at the end of her street.

The beach was dotted with colorful blankets and beach umbrellas. Kids played at making sand castles, parents sat in beach chairs next to coolers and teens ran through the water laughing and diving. 

Lexy spotted Jack lying on a lounge chair about ten feet from the edge of the water. She slipped off her flip flops to feel the warm, course sand on her feet and started toward him.

“Hi handsome, is this spot taken?” Lexy spread her towel down beside Jack who peered over the top of his book at her.

“I suppose you can sit here, but only until my wife comes down.” 

Lexy laughed, then bent over to kiss him before plopping down on the towel.

“So how was your visit with the widow?” Jack asked.

“Interesting.” Lexy dug in her beach bag for suntan lotion. “She said Dugasse was worth more to her alive than dead.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well, he was a shoo-in to win that
Chili Battle
. You know, the one they are having here at the fairgrounds.” Lexy pointed in the direction of the open field in the middle of the resort. “Anyway, I guess winning that means you get a lot of money thrown at you.”

“Hmmm.” Jack pursed his lips.

“Oh, and she also said that she thought Dugasse was having an affair because he snuck out in the wee hours of the morning.”

“But she was there the morning he was killed, right?” Jack asked.

“Yes, but she said she didn’t kill him.”

“They all say that.” Jack dog-eared a page and then closed his book. “But she might have a point about him being worth more money. Does she have an alibi?”

Lexy’s brows mashed together. She dumped out the contents of her bag, still unable to find the suntan lotion. “I don’t know. She didn’t seem very hospitable after Nans practically accused her of killing Dugasse, so we got out of there fast.”

Jack laughed. “Well, maybe you could check the hotel. Or maybe Payne has already done that. The room keys record when people come and go so if she was back in her room at the time of death, it would show that.”

“Well, I don’t think Payne is going to share any of that information with me. He’s not as nice as you are with that sort of stuff.” Lexy grabbed the copper colored bottle of sun tan lotion and opened the top. Squirting some on her arm, she started rubbing it in. “But I don’t think the wife is the killer.”

“Oh, why not?”

“I ran into Sylvia Spicer when I was at the dining lodge and she was acting really funny. Nans and the ladies were thinking she might be the one Dugasse was having an affair with, so I kind of hinted around about that and she got really mad.”

Jack chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t you, if someone was hinting around that you had an affair and murdered someone?”

“Yeah, probably.” Lexy pressed her lips together. Maybe Sylvia
was
only reacting to her accusations. “But I found out some other strange things today too.”

“What?” Jack took the bottle from her and started rubbing lotion on her legs, venturing into parts that were already covered by her suit and causing her to almost forget what she was saying.

“What? Oh … when I was at the dining hall I talked to Prescott Charles, the manager, and he was acting kind of strange about the whole Dugasse thing and then I caught Brad Meltzer sneaking around in Dugasse’s office!”