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notice something.”
      “Wait a minute,” Helen said. “We’re talking about Jack’s house, and that’s right behind Mona’s. Did she live there then or did she buy the house after the McDonalds?”
    “The McDonalds said that she already lived there when they moved in,” Lexy offered.
      “Nothing gets past Mona, so if she lived there back then, she must have noticed something.” Ida’s forehead creased and she craned her neck to look in the parking lot. “Where is she, anyway?”
    Lexy turned to follow her gaze, but there was no sign of Ruth’s big, blue Oldsmobile. “Beats me.”
    “Did the McDonalds tell you who the builder was?” Helen pulled Lexy’s attention from the window.
    “No. I guess I should have asked.”  
    “No worries.” Ruth bent down and picked up a giant black purse from under her chair. She opened a flap, unzipped a compartment, reached in and pulled out an iPad. “Google is a wonderful tool. We’ll just look it up.”
    “It would help to know who the victim was, too.” Helen raised her brows at Lexy. “Any idea?”
    “No. Sorry.”
    “Could you tell if it was a man or woman?”
    “I think it was a man,” Lexy said. “It was wearing shorts and what looked like a tank top or white undershirt. That’s not something a woman usually wears.”
    “Very good.” Ida nodded at Lexy. “And that’s an important clue.”
    “It is?”
    “Yes. From the clothing, we know it must have been summer when he was killed.”
    “So, now we just need to look for missing persons reports on males that disappeared in the summer.” Helen reached into her giant purse and produced an iPad. “Now, what year was the house built?”
    “I’m not sure exactly.” Lexy chewed her bottom lip. “Jack said about sixty years ago.”
    “Okay, good enough.”  
    Ruth and Helen alternated tapping away on their iPads and nibbling the meringue cookies. Ida looked over Ruth’s shoulder while nibbling her own cookie. Lexy noticed that they weren’t eating the cookies with their usual gusto. She hoped that was simply because their minds were too busy with investigating to pay much attention to the cookies, and not because the cookies didn’t taste good.
    “That’s strange,” Helen said. “I’ve searched several decades and not found anyone reported missing who was never found.”
    “Maybe he wasn’t from around here,” Ida suggested.
    “Maybe. But it seems like he would be. Otherwise, why did he get killed and hidden here?” Ida asked. “It doesn’t seem like one would bring a body from somewhere else and seal it up in a basement, does it?”
    “Well, we can just ask the builder, because I’ve found him,” Ruth announced.
    “Really?” Ida craned her neck to look at Ruth’s iPad. “Was he involved in any nefarious activity? Money laundering? Fraud? Murder?”
    “No. Nothing.”
    “Is he even still alive?” Lexy asked.
    “Oh, yes. In fact, he lives right here.”  
    Ida wrinkled her brow. “In the retirement center?”
    “Yep. Tommy O’Keefe, 350 Pinewood.”
    “Oh? He has one of the single homes. Those are expensive, so he must have money.” Ida’s blue eyes danced with excitement. “Probably got it by being paid off to hide bodies in the homes he built.”
    Helen swatted Ida’s arm. “Oh, Ida, you do have an imagination!”
    “I think we need to make a visit to him, ladies. What do you think?” Ida asked.
    “Definitely,” Helen answered.
    They all looked at Ruth for her answer but she was squinting intently at something past Lexy’s shoulder, apparently not having heard them.  
    “Isn’t that Mona?” Ruth asked.
    Lexy spun in the direction of Ruth’s gaze. “Yes, she must not see us.”
    “Mona! Yoo-hoo. We’re over here!” Ida yelled.
    Nans stopped short, then slowly turned toward them. Lexy thought she saw a look of uncertainty cross her grandmother’s face, but then she broke into a smile and headed toward them.  
    “Where have you been?” Ida