She tried Davies first. No answer. Then she tried Nans. No answer. Then she tried Ida, Ruth, Helen and Jack—none of them answered. Where was everyone? She drove away from Violet’s, bursting at the seams to tell someone about the lavender sachets. Violet had lived in the neighborhood when Earl was murdered. Violet had been asking about Earl in the pub. Could Violet be the killer? But, if she was, then why did Nans have the red flip-flop and why did the two of them have a secret meeting? The thought that Nans and Violet could have been in on it together flitted through Lexy’s mind, but she didn’t want to believe it. She wondered if she should refrain from telling Davies about the sachets. No, if Nans was involved it was innocently. Maybe Violet had something on Nans and was forcing her to keep the secret. Bam! Lexy had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t seen the pothole in the road. She cringed at the clunk-clunk-clunk sound that followed. It sounded like she had a flat tire.
