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Authors: Leighann Dobbs

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BOOK: No Scone Unturned
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8

E
ven though Ruth
drove a big blue Oldsmobile and the ladies were not without transportation, they’d talked Lexy into driving them over to Susan’s house the next day. Lexy hadn’t resisted much. She wanted to hear what the woman had to say herself, not to mention that she wasn’t exactly sure that it was safe—or legal—for Ruth to drive. On the way over, she told them about Jack’s visit to the house and how he’d noticed the stain on the patio, as well as the research he’d done on the Pendletons’ finances and the identity of the assistant.

“I knew Jack wouldn’t let us down,” Nans said. “It’s great that he’s helping us out on the sly, but since he can’t do anything officially, I think it’s up to us to find the evidence to nail Rupert.”

“And to find my drone,” Ida chimed in from the back seat.

“I figured he wouldn’t be able to look into their financials,” Ruth said. “So last night I went to the community center to watch
Wheel of Fortune
. You know Mildred Dowse always watches it on the big screen in there on Fridays.”

Nans swung around in her seat. “And Mildred still works at the bank!”

“Yes, she does, and when I happened to just casually mention the Pendletons, she told me that Rupert had come in every other Tuesday and gotten a whopper of a cashier’s check.” Ruth lowered her voice. "She's not supposed to tell anyone specifics about people's banking, but Mildred and I go way back."

“How much?” Nans asked.

“Ten thousand dollars!”

“Well, that certainly is interesting,” Ida said. “I wonder what he would need that for. Maybe he’s buying property or something.”

“My bet is on the ‘or something,’” Nans said.

“This case is shaping up! We have more research to do on Connie Davis and those mysterious cashier’s checks,” Helen said.

“Yeah, but maybe after we talk to Susan, we can head back over to the Pendletons’. I have the controller in my new purse,” Ida persisted.

“Maybe, Ida, but the research is of the utmost importance. We have to get all the information and clues together before we make an incorrect assumption. Kingsley mentioned a maid, and we’re not sure if the other woman he saw was this Connie person or a maid. Susan could be a totally innocent party, but I hope whatever she tells us today will shed some light on this situation,” Nans said.

“That’s the house, number seventeen.” Ruth pushed her face into the front seat of Lexy’s car as she pointed toward a small, blue, ranch-style home. Lexy pulled over to the curb. The neighborhood was modest, the houses probably built about twenty-five or thirty years ago. Well kept up but not rich by any means.

“You think that’s Susan’s house?” Nans frowned at her smartphone, where she’d used her GPS app to guide Lexy to the address they’d Googled earlier. “I guess it is. She sure doesn’t live the high life like her sister.”

“That’s what Kingsley said.” Ruth pulled the lever on the back seat and tried to push it up even while Nans was still sitting in it. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go question her and see if we can trip her up.”

Nans popped the door open then got out and pushed the seat up for Ruth. “Now Ruth, this isn’t an interrogation. We have to speak to her gently.”

“Maybe if we’d brought some pastries, it would’ve broken the ice,” Ida suggested.

“You’re just saying that because you wanted to eat some on the way over,” Nans said.

“I still don’t know what you’re going to ask her, and the pastries are always a good excuse to start a conversation. No one ever turns away old ladies with pastries,” Ida said.

“It’s easy. I’m going to tell her that Helen here is doing a piece in the paper on what it’s like to be the sister of a famous author.”

Helen had been a journalist her entire life, and now that she was retired, she worked part time for the local paper. Her contacts at the paper came in handy, as did the excuse that she was working on an article. Anyone who got suspicious could check that she really worked there, but the paper would never verify exactly on what, and if anyone got too nosey or demanded to know when the article would be printed, Helen simply told them it had been cancelled.

“That sounds like it really would make a good article. Maybe I’ll actually write that,” Helen said as Nans knocked on the door.

They stood lined up on the stoop, waiting for Susan to answer. When no one came, Nans knocked again.

Ida shaded her eyes and looked through the window at the side of the door. “Darn it, just our luck. She must not be home.”

“Where do you think she could be?” Ruth asked.

“Probably with Rupert now that Olive is out of the way.” Ida wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. “All the better for snooping around.”

Ida hopped off the steps and sidled past the bushes, pressing her face right up to the big picture window.

“What do you see?” Helen asked as she skirted the hedge, angling her body sideways to move in beside Ida.

“Nothing much. Looks like a regular living room to me.”

“Maybe we can see more through one of the other rooms.” Nans walked around the side of the house. “And the neighbors won’t be able to see us snooping over here.”

They followed Nans, peeking in the windows of a room which must’ve been the spare bedroom. A white quilt lay on the bed. The walls were cream colored, and a blue-and-white area rug covered honey-colored hardwood floors. A little white bureau sat against one wall, and on top of it were dozens of pictures of a little black dog.

“Oh, that must be her precious Peekapoo,” Helen said. “Isn’t that sweet. She has pictures of him.”

“No pictures of the son, though,” Nans observed.

“Kingsley said they were estranged, so maybe she doesn’t keep pictures of him out. Too painful,” Ruth said. “I wonder how long they’ve been on the outs.”

They moved on to the next window. This one must’ve been the master bedroom, as it featured a queen-size bed with a colorful comforter. The room was neat as a pin. On the opposite wall was a low dresser with a TV on top. The closet door was slightly ajar, and some clothes were laid out at the foot of the bed. “She sure is different from the sister. Everything’s in its place. ’Course, that makes sense if she was a librarian. That’s what you found online, Ruth, right?” Helen asked.

“That’s right. She’s retired now, though. Looks like she has enough money to live comfortably but doesn’t spend it frivolously like the Pendletons.”

“I’m surprised with all that family money that she lives in this tiny little ranch,” Ruth said as they went around the other side of the house and peeked in the doorway to the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it was neatly apportioned. A modest kitchen table sat in the eat-in kitchen, sheer curtains on the windows. It was serviceable and clean but looked like it hadn’t been updated in several years.

“Maybe she likes the security of having the money. Or maybe they didn’t inherit as much as we’re thinking,” Nans said.

“Even if she did have a lot, that doesn’t mean she wants to spend it all. Look at Myrna Hastings. She’s a millionaire but lives like she’s on Social Security,” Ruth pointed out.

“Well, one thing’s for sure: she doesn’t have much to hide,” Nans said as they came back around to the front. “There was nothing online that indicated anything out of the norm. She was married. Had a son. Worked in the library.”

“Boring,” Ida said.

“Hardly the type of person that would have an affair with her brother-in-law,” Lexy added.

“Ha! Those are the type that usually do. All those repressed emotions or something.” Ida peeked into the side door to the garage. “Her car’s not here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect it to be if she didn’t answer the door.” Nans squinted toward the end of the driveway. “She must have been here at some point, because the mailbox flag is up.”

“Oh, goody.” Ida rubbed her hands together and rushed down to the mailbox. “Let’s see what she’s sending out. Maybe it’s a love letter to Rupert.”

Ida flipped the door open and reached her hand in then pulled it back out, a small square letter clutched between her fingers. The envelope was a thick cream-colored paper. The address on the front was neatly done in black pen

“It’s addressed to Brent Chambers, 121 Forest Ave., Oakdale, Kentucky,” Ida said.

“Brent? Why does that name sound familiar?” Ruth asked.

“I think that’s the name of her son. Isn’t that what Kingsley said?” Nans asked.

“Yes, it was. I remember distinctly,” Lexy answered.

“So, it looks like she was sending a letter to the son.” Helen’s eyes got misty. “I hope she’s trying to reconcile with him. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be estranged from my son.”

“Well, that’s nice,” Ida said. “But it doesn’t help us with the investigation. And if we don’t get a move on to get my drone back,
I’m
going to be the one that’s estranged from my grandson.”

“This might give us another lead,” Nans said.

“But he lives all the way in Kentucky. And he hasn’t been in touch with his mother. I doubt he knows anything that’s going on.” Ida looked disgusted.

A movement at the end of the street caught Lexy’s eye, and she glanced down to see the mail truck. Nans must’ve seen it too, because she said in a hushed voice, “Put that back in the mailbox, Ida. The mailman is coming.”

“Yeah, it’s a federal offense to tamper with the mail,” Helen said.

“I wasn’t tampering. I was just looking.” Ida held the letter out to the mailman. “Susan wanted to make sure this got mailed.”

The mailman accepted it with a nod then passed a pile of mail to Ida, which she stuffed into the box as the others started back to the car.

“At least we know Susan was home earlier today. Otherwise her mailbox would’ve been full,” Nans said.

“And we know she wants to reach out to the son,” Ruth added.

“But the question is, does that have something to do with her sister’s murder?” Helen asked.

“Time will tell.” Nans turned to Ida. “For now, I say we take a drive over to the Pendleton place and see if we can dig up the drone. I don’t think Rupert knows about it, so it’s gotta still be out there in the yard with the incriminating video. If we can find the video, then we’ll be home free.”

“And if we can’t?” Ruth asked.

“Then it looks like we have a lot more research to do.”

9

T
he darkening sky
dampened Lexy’s spirits as she drove the short distance to the Pendleton house. Tomorrow was the Kingsleys’ brunch, and she didn’t want it to be cancelled because of bad weather.

“I hope we’re not in for a rainy spell.” She anxiously eyed the dark clouds moving in overhead.

Ruth whipped out her iPad. “The weather application says rain tonight, but tomorrow should be okay. We should be all set for the Kingsley event that we’re catering.”

Lexy narrowed her eyes at the rearview mirror. “
We?

“Why yes. It seemed to me that Caspian Kingsley was very much looking forward to us assisting you. Isn’t that right, girls?”

“Yes. In fact, I would say we are probably what sold your services to him.”

Lexy chuckled as she pulled up to the curb a few houses down from the Pendletons’. “Gee, really? And I thought I had secured the job over the phone all on my own days before. Well, good thing I have you guys by my side.”

“Darn tootin’.” Nans hopped out of the car, pulling the seat forward to let the other ladies out of the back.

Ida was already digging in her purse. She pulled out the controller and hurried up to the sidewalk, calling over her shoulder. “We’re in luck. It looks like no one’s home. We can do a thorough search. I just hope those attack dogs aren’t out.”

She stopped at the southeast corner of the property, pushing a few buttons on the controller. She pulled the joysticks this way and that, her eyes scanning the yard the whole time. “Do you ladies see any activity? It could be buried under something, maybe
some old leaves. Do you see any moving?”

Lexy scanned along with them, but she didn’t see any movement.

“Let’s try over here.” Nans walked over to the front facing the house. “We don’t know where the dogs would’ve hidden it, but there’s a stone bench over there and the remnants of what looks like a rock garden. Those seem like likely places, don’t they, Lexy?”

“Sprinkles likes to hide her toys under things, and those would work,” Lexy said.

They stayed on the sidewalk. The range of the controller was more than adequate from the sidewalk, so they didn’t have to step onto the Pendleton property. But much as Ida tried, they did not see any sign of the drone.

“Maybe it’s run out of batteries?” Ruth said.

“How much life did it have left in it?” Helen asked.

Ida pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. Jason never said. ’Course, he didn’t know I was gonna be flying it.”

Ida cast about desperately, and Lexy could tell she was really getting worried about what might happen if she had to tell Jason she’d lost the drone. The neighbors on one side had a chain-link fence delineating their property from the Pendletons’. Old shrubs, a woodpile, and part of a stone wall ran next to it.

Lexy pointed to it. “This looks like a good place for the dogs to hide something.”

Ida ran over, skulking along the edge of the fence, her fingers gripping the controllers, twisting this way and that, angling her head to see if there was any movement.

“If it’s wedged between any of these rocks, though, it won’t be able to move much,” Helen said. “Maybe we should start looking under them.”

Lexy glanced around at the yard and the house. She didn’t see anyone moving around. If Rupert wasn’t home, than what was the harm in looking under a few rocks? “Okay, but I think we better be quick. Rupert might come home, and besides I need to get to the bakery.”

“I’ll be quick.” Nans bent down and started flipping over rocks. “We wouldn’t want you to run short on pastries.”

“Certainly not!” Ida said.

“Especially since you eat most of them,” Helen added good-naturedly.

Lexy joined them, flipping over rocks and stones and looking under old rotted logs. But all they found were spiders and slugs. They were almost ready to give up when…


Woof!


Snarl!


Growl!

“It’s the killer dogs!” Ida dropped the controller and held her hands up, palms out. The dogs stopped in front of them, barking and snapping.

Lexy had to admit they did look a little ferocious, but she doubted the tiny balls of fur would hurt them.

“They’re probably just protecting their territory by instinct. I’m sure they’re harmless.” She bent down and held her hand out for them to sniff. “Here doggie, doggie.”

They stopped their snarling and looked at Lexy curiously, tilting their heads from side to side. The black one ventured over, sniffing at her fingers. The apricot one followed, letting Lexy pat it behind the ears. She turned back to look up at the ladies, who were standing with their backs against the fence. “See? They’re harmless.”

“What are you doing trespassing in my yard?!”

Lexy jerked her head back around to see Rupert storming out from the back of the house.

“Dang. I don’t think he’s as harmless as his dogs,” Ruth said.

Rupert stormed up to them, his face contorted in anger.

“Heya!” He snapped his fingers, and the dogs reluctantly turned from Lexy and ran to his side. “Aren’t you the same busybodies that were here the other day?”

Nans straightened indignantly. “We’re not busybodies. We are fans.”

Rupert’s eyes snapped to Ida, who was bending down to pick up her controller. “What’s that thing she’s got? Isn’t she the senile one?”

“That’s right.” Nans leaned forward and whispered, “I wouldn’t rile her up. Don’t ask what that thing is that she has. You’ll be sorry.”

Rupert frowned at Ida then glanced uncertainly back at the house. “Well, you ladies are trespassing. I told you before, we don’t like fans to just show up. Do I have to call the police?”

“No. No police. We just saw your dogs, and since we are dog lovers, we wanted to come over and pet them,” Lexy said.

“Oh, come on, Lexy, tell the truth,” Ruth said. The rest of them shot her quizzical looks.

“You know as well as I do,” Ruth continued, “that we were here to get a glimpse of Olive Pendleton.”

“Oh,
right
,” Nans said, following Ruth’s lead. “That’s right. You’re her husband, right? Is she inside?” Nans made a point of trying to look around Rupert’s shoulder.

Rupert eyed them suspiciously. “No. She’s not inside.”

“Well, it is kind of funny that she’s never around when we come here,” Helen said. “Almost as if you are hiding something.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but my wife is in Europe.” Rupert pulled his phone out of his back pocket, thumbed through a few screens, then turned it toward them. “See? She took this picture just yesterday. You can see her standing there plain as day with her sister, holding up the Paris paper with her picture on it. She has a new book release next week, and her books are very popular in France, so they did a little article and featured her in the paper.”

They all craned their necks toward the phone. Lexy’s brows pinched together in puzzlement as she stared at the picture. It was Olive Pendleton, with another woman who looked a lot like her, holding up a paper. They were the same height and had the same hair color and style, but their facial features were different. Where one had delicate features, the other was chiseled in stone. Sisters. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the background.

Lexy’s heart tumbled when she saw the date on the paper. It was yesterday’s date. If what she was seeing was correct, Olive Pendleton was in France and very much alive.

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