Mummified Meringues Read Online Free PDF Page A

behind her. Neither of them seemed that surprised to see her, but Lexy figured at their age, not much was surprising.
    The apartment was small, but neat as a pin. To the right was a kitchen with almond Formica cabinets and a matching Formica counter. Stainless steel appliances winked at her. The kitchen was open, with a breakfast bar opening to a small dining area.  
    “Good to see you, Lexy,” Charlie let go of the grip on his walker and his strong handshake surprised Lexy. He motioned to the living room in front of them. “Come on in.”
    Charlie ushered her over to a beige leatherette sofa while Lois rushed the box into the kitchen.  
    “This is a lovely surprise, Lacey,” Lois shot over her shoulder as she arranged the cookies on a pink Depression-era glass plate.
    “Lexy.”
    “Yes, of course. Sorry Lucy.” Lois plopped the plate of cookies on the coffee table and tapped her head. “The memory isn’t what it used to be.”
    “How is Mona?” Charlie turned to Lois. “We haven’t seen her in months, right dear?”
    “That’s right. I hope she is doing well.” Lois turned to Lexy.
    “Very well.” At least, I think she is.
    “Did you bake these?” Charlie pointed at the cookies.
    “Yes. I own the bakery The Cup and Cake downtown. I’m trying out a new recipe for the Brook Ridge Falls annual dessert contest.” Lexy picked up the plate and held it out to him. “Please, try one.”
    Charlie took a cookie and Lexy passed the plate over to Lois. Then they all sat there looking at each other.
    Lexy decided to get down to business. “I don’t know if you know this, but I married the man that bought your house.”
    “Oh?” Lois raised her brow. “That’s nice, dear.”
    “Yes. Well, anyway, we were cleaning out the basement—”
    “Such a nice young man he was, wasn’t he, Mother?” Charlie interrupted.
    “Oh, yes.” Lois nodded. “I think he was a butcher.”
    “No, I believe he was a gardener.”
    Lois narrowed her eyes. “No, that’s not it either. I’m pretty sure he was a food critic.”
    “No, dear. He was a—.”
    “He’s a police detective.” Lexy had to cut Charlie off or she feared they’d go on like this all day.  
    “Yes, that’s right.” Lois nodded and settled back in her chair. “Anyway, what did you say about the bathroom?”
    “The basement.”
    “Oh, yes. That house had a nice, large one. Did he refinish it? We were always going to do that.” Charlie’s expression turned wistful.
    “No. It was full. Of your stuff,” Lexy said. “That’s actually why I’m here.”
    Lois waved her hand around. “Oh, whatever you find down there you can keep, dear. Isn’t that right, Charlie?”
    “Yes, of course. As you can see, we don’t have much room here.”
    “It’s not about the items. I was wondering about the basement itself,” Lexy said. “Did you ever notice anything strange about it?”
    “The Grange Hall? No, I don’t think we had anything down there from the Grange Hall.” Lois bit into her meringue cookie and made a face.
    “No, not the Grange—I said strange . Did you notice anything unusual about the basement … a smell, or maybe something about the walls?”
    Lois and Charlie looked at each other and shrugged.  
    “I think we had some beach balls and probably a few tennis balls,” Charlie said. “Lois here used to be quite the tennis player in her day.”
    The two of them fell silent, reveling in their old memories, judging by the wistful smiles on their faces. Disappointment prickled through Lexy’s veins. She hadn’t gotten any useful information from the McDonalds.  
    Were they too senile to be reliable?  
    She didn’t know what she was hoping to find out. If Jack’s theory of the killer being the builder was true, then the McDonalds most likely had no idea what was hidden in their basement … and Lexy certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell them. They’d find out soon enough.
    “When you bought the house, did you