Stabbed in the Baklava

by Tina Kashian

  “Did you check out her fancy getup?” Katie sniffed the air and shook her head. “Someone ought to tell her to lighten up with her perfume. She smells like my grandma.”

  Lucy rubbed her nose. “I don’t know what’s worse, that I’m allergic to her or that I’m scared of disappointing her.”

  “Relax,” Katie said. “We have your back.”

  Gratitude welled in Lucy’s chest. “Good to know.” Her friend was giving up her weekend to help. Lucy had offered to pay Katie, but she’d refused, saying, “No way! What are friends for?”

  Next to arrive was the service staff. Each server wore pressed black slacks and a crisp button-down shirt with a gold C embroidered on the shirt pocket, for Castle of the Sea. The women had their hair neatly tied back and the men were cleanly shaved. They looked like a well-seasoned regiment, and Lucy was relieved. It was her job to oversee the servers for the cocktail hour and the reception and to make sure the wedding guests were satisfied. She knew a professional waitstaff was essential.

  Azad went to work assembling the marinated chicken, lamb, and vegetables on stainless-steel shish kebab skewers. Five hundred skewers to be exact, two for each wedding guest, one for meat and the other for vegetables. Butch started heating the lentil soup, and Katie and Lucy were busy arranging trays of stuffed grape leaves, tabbouleh salad, and hummus from one of the rolling carts. Armenians called these trays mezze, and Lucy hoped they’d be a hit. The kitchen soon began to work like a well-oiled machine.

  Not long afterward, Victoria notified them that the guests had begun to arrive for the cocktail hour. The bridal party had a private room for their own cocktails before they were announced at the reception, and Lucy made sure the waitstaff checked on the bridal party numerous times to ensure they had everything they needed.

  Shortly after she returned to the kitchen, the door leading into the ballroom swung open again, but this time, a man in a tuxedo stumbled into the kitchen. He was of average height with a full head of brown hair sprinkled with gray, and green eyes. His bow tie was askew and his steps were a bit unsteady. He held up an empty bottle of Jack Daniels as he approached. “Is there more whiskey in here?”

  “Pardon?” Lucy set down a bin of hummus and stepped forward. The man was clearly intoxicated, with red eyes and a flushed face. He was older, in his midfifties, but fit and attractive.

  Still, they didn’t have time for a drunk, wandering, wedding guest.

  “Hi, sweet pea. I’m the best man in the wedding. You have any more of these?” He waved the empty whiskey bottle back and forth like a pendulum.

  Lucy wrinkled her nose at the odor of alcohol wafting from him. “I’ m afraid you made a wrong turn, sir. This is the kitchen, not the bar. There’s no alcohol here.”

  “Too bad. I guess I’ll be on my way then.” His gaze traveled down her white shirt and black slacks before returning to her face. “Save a dance for me, will you?”

  Before she could come up with a smart reply, Azad stepped forward. He was in the middle of assembling the shish kebab, and he held an empty skewer with the sharp tip aimed downward by his side. “Henry Simms?”

  The man’s bloodshot gaze turned to Azad. “That’s right. Do I know you?”

  “Damned right you do,” Azad said tersely.

  A flicker of emotion crossed Azad’s face—part incredulous and part furious. Beneath the fluorescent lighting in the kitchen, his dark complexion looked flushed, and Lucy was surprised by his uncharacteristic reaction.

  Once again, Henry raised the empty bottle. In his drunken state, he must have missed the tension in Azad’s expression and voice. “Good. Be a useful cook and fetch me another one of these.”

  Azad turned a mottled shade of red. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Henry Simms shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t remember.” Azad took another step closer, his fingers tightening on the skewer. “You’re the bank president of Ocean Crest Savings and Loan. You assured me that my loan had been approved by your bank, only to later tell me there had been a mistake and the loan fell through.”

  A loan? Lucy turned from the intoxicated best man to Azad. He’d never mentioned a loan to her in the past.

  “Sorry. Still don’t know who you are or what you’re talkin’ about,” Henry slurred, and wavered on his feet.

  Azad’s jaw hardened like a lump of granite. “When I went back to the bank and asked other workers, they had no idea what happened. Not one bank employee could explain it to me.”

  “You must have the wrong person,” Henry said.

  “No, I don’t.” Azad’s eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. “Whatever you did cost me five grand in attorney’s fees and a shot at a great business opportunity.”

  Lucy knew Azad had planned to buy Kebab Kitchen months ago. He’d told her he changed his mind when she’d decided to stay in Ocean Crest and manage the restaurant. Had he not been entirely truthful? Had he backed off because a bank loan didn’t go through?

  And even more important, did her parents know about it and not tell her?

  Henry laughed. “I think you need a bottle of whiskey more than me.”

  Azad’s nostrils flared. “You messed with my life. I’ve always wondered, how many others there are.”

  A cold wave swept through the room, and the busy kitchen grew silent as all eyes focused on Azad and Henry Simms. Butch stopped plating dishes, Katie stopped scooping hummus in bowls, and the liveried servers halted in midstep as all eyes zeroed in on the battle. There was nothing like a fight to quiet a crowd.

  Henry Simms set the empty bottle on the counter. “Since you won’t help me with the whiskey, I’ll go back to the cocktail hour.”

  After Simms exited the room, Azad raised his skewer and pointed to the still-swinging doors. “Damned drunk. One of these days, that crooked banker is going to get his due.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Azad’s altercation with Henry Simms was forgotten as the cocktail hour ended and dinner service began. Tureens of lentil soup were carried out by the waitstaff and ladled into the guests’ bowls for the first course. Meanwhile, Azad and Butch were busy in the kitchen plating the main course—shish kebab with sides of bulgur pilaf, eggplant bake, and a delicate spinach salad with lemon and olive oil dressing. Lucy, along with Katie, followed the next wave of servers out of the kitchen.

  “Wow!” Katie halted just outside the swinging kitchen doors and nearly caused Lucy to run into her.

  Lucy took a quick breath as she caught her first glimpse of Castle of the Sea’s ballroom. With its Greek revival architectural, Corinthian columns, and gilded molding, it was magnificent. The walls were covered with beautiful flocked wallpaper, and blue velvet drapes hung on floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. The hardwood dance floor was polished and shining. As for the decorations, Victoria Redding had done a fabulous job. Crystal and fine china glittered beneath enormous chandeliers. Centerpieces of creamy white and pink roses graced snowy white linens. Pale pink napkins matched the silk chair covers to create a whimsical atmosphere.

  “Check out the wedding cake. Susan Cutie outdid herself this time,” Katie said.

  Katie was right. A table set up to the side of the dance floor displayed a multi-tiered cake with masses of pink roses. A heart-shaped, porcelain wedding topper of a couple kissing rested on top of the confectionary masterpiece.

  “Look at the bride,” Katie whispered in awe.

  Lucy’s attention turned to the head table. Scarlet Westwood looked stunning in a couture wedding gown of silk and gauze. Her blond hair was loose and she wore a delicate tiara of silver beads. Lucy had seen pictures of the groom, Bradford Papadopoulos, who was close to thirty years older than Scarlet. His Mediterranean roots were visible in his olive complexion and dark hair. He wasn’t the first wealthy, older man Scarlet had been with, but the first she’d wed. Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if Scarlet had married him to help her budding acting career.

 
The rest of the bridal party was a mix of contrasts. Lucy had read in the gossip columns that the maid of honor, Cressida Connolly, had gone to the same private high school as Scarlet. Cressida was pretty, with red hair styled in a Brigitte Bardot–inspired updo that set off her blue eyes. Unfortunately for Cressida, her escort was the intoxicated, obnoxious, and older Henry Simms.

  A few Ocean Crest residents were guests as well. Lucy recognized Edna and Edith Gray, two elderly spinsters and owners of a boardwalk shop; the mayor, Thomas Huckerby; and members of the town council. The Gray sisters looked up and smiled at Lucy, and she waved back.

  Soon, the crackle of the microphone sounded and the band began to play Mediterranean dance music. The guests formed a line, held pinkies, and began a lively line dance. The groom’s side knew the steps, and they invited the bride’s family to join them. The pounding of the doumbek, a goblet-shaped drum played while held under one arm, and the oud, a pear-shaped string instrument, had Lucy tapping her feet. She hadn’t danced to the traditional songs in years.

  From the corner of her eye, Lucy spotted Henry push back his chair, then make his way to the bride and groom, who were sitting at the head table. He was a bit unsteady on his feet, and before he could reach the couple, he was waylaid by Victoria Redding, who grasped his sleeve. She whispered something in his ear, and when he responded, she dropped his sleeve and her face screwed into an unpleasant expression. Henry seized the opportunity and darted away from Victoria as if a team of angry football players were chasing him, then made a beeline for Scarlet and Bradford.

  The tensing of Victoria’s jaw revealed her extreme disapproval. In some strange way, it was satisfying to Lucy to see that the uptight wedding planner gave others a hard time as well.

  The band ceased playing and the singer handed Henry his microphone. Henry tapped the end of the mic, causing a burst of static, then raised his glass. “As the best man, I’d like to pro . . . propose a toast to the bride and groom,” Henry slurred. “Brad and I go way back . . . back to college a long time ago, when we were fraternity brothers, and I’m happy my friend met a nice gal like Scarlet.”

  The guests clapped in approval.

  “That explains why Henry Simms is the best man,” Lucy said. “College frat brothers. I can just picture both men pumping beer kegs while trying to flirt with sorority girls.”

  Katie chuckled. “I can see it.”

  Lucy watched a wave of servers head their way. “We better return to the kitchen.” They had gaped enough and they didn’t need to stay for the congratulatory speeches. She nudged Katie and they hurried back to the kitchen to check that everything was ready for the dessert course.

  Butch set a knife and cake server on the counter. “They’re getting ready for the wedding cake, and it will be time for the baklava soon.”

  Katie counted the trays of baklava on the counter. “We’re one short,” she said. “Did we leave one in the van?”

  Lucy recalled the tray that had tumbled in the van when Azad had hit the pole. “No. We had an accident earlier. I made an extra tray, but forgot to bring it inside. Too much on my mind, I guess. I’ll go get it now.” She needed a breath of fresh air. The kitchen was hot as Hades and she was sweating from running back and forth from the ballroom to the kitchen.

  A sudden thought came to her, and Lucy halted by the back door. “Azad, I need the van key.”

  She recalled Azad had locked the van after they’d unloaded. Her dad always insisted they lock the van to prevent theft at catering jobs. She doubted it would be a problem at Castle of the Sea, but her father’s lessons were ingrained.

  Without looking up from his work, Azad pulled the key from his front pocket and tossed it to her.

  Lucy hurried outside and headed for the van, but just as she reached the vehicle, voices sounded in the parking lot.

  Angry, shouting voices.

  Lucy spotted Henry Simms and Victoria Redding four cars away. Victoria’s hands were planted on her hips and her gaze was narrowed on Henry. She was talking—no yelling—at Henry. He must have finished his speech and the two were now outside going at it.

  Neither of them had noticed her. Impulsively, Lucy ducked behind the van and peeked around the side. Her ears perked up at Victoria’s harsh tone, and she strained to hear.

  “How could you!” Victoria screeched.

  Henry crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against a white Rolls-Royce, the newlyweds’ getaway car. White streamers dangled from the trunk and a handwritten sign in the rear window read, JUST MARRIED.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henry said.

  “Don’t play dumb with me. I saw you smuggle a cell phone into the reception and sneak shots. I told you, no pictures,” Victoria snapped.

  Henry looked nonplussed. “What’s the harm in a few shots?”

  Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “I was crystal clear. Scarlet and Bradford said no pictures.”

  “I know what Scarlet said, but the attention will help launch her new perfume line.”

  “Is money all you think about?” Victoria said.

  “I’m a banker, remember? Money is my livelihood,” Henry said.

  Victoria extended her hand, palm up. “Hand it over.”

  Henry shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious. Hand your cell phone over. I’m stashing it where you can’t get it until after the reception.”

  “Where?”

  Victoria glanced around the lot until her eyes narrowed in Lucy’s direction. “I hired the caterers. I can easily have them lock whatever I want in the catering van.”

  Lucy’s heart jolted in momentary panic, and she shrank lower behind the wheel to be sure she was out of sight. The hot blacktop seared her palms, and the heat seeped through her pants to her knees. She dared not move an inch.

  Victoria wasn’t heading to the van, was she?

  Thankfully, the pair stayed put.

  Henry reluctantly turned over his cell phone. “I expected you to be more reasonable. You owe me. I got you this job, remember?”

  Victoria widened her stance and glared down at him. With her five-inch heels she was taller than the average-height Simms. “You never let me forget it.”

  “Then we’re even now.”

  “Even?” Victoria laughed bitterly. “I put everything on the line for you. We’re far from even.”

  “You’re acting like a bitter shrew.”

  Victoria stiffened and sheer hatred crossed her face. “God, I hate you. You’ll pay for this if it’s the last thing I do.” She turned on her heel.

  “Wait! Victoria!” Henry shouted after her, but she ignored him and stormed off.

  Lucy came to life and scurried farther behind the van as Victoria kept walking and returned to the building.

  Henry shook his head and sagged against the Rolls-Royce. For the first time, he didn’t appear like an attractive older man, but rather he looked every bit of his fifty-something years. He scrubbed his hand down his face, and then stumbled back to the wedding.

  Lucy stayed where she was, mulling over what she’d witnessed.

  First Azad. Now Victoria.

  One thing was clear: Henry Simms wasn’t liked by many people.

  She finally stood from where she had been squatting and stretched her cramped legs. She opened the back doors of the van and fetched the extra baklava tray. Balancing the tray on one hand, she fished for the key in her back pocket, then locked the door.

  She wasn’t worried about Victoria carrying out her threat and stashing Henry’s cell phone in the van. Now that Lucy knew what was up, if Victoria asked her to store anything, Lucy could refuse her request. Victoria didn’t have the key and would have to find somewhere else to hide the cell phone until the reception was over. Henry didn’t know that, but that didn’t matter. If he tried to get in the van, he’d have no luck.

  Confident no one had seen her spying, Lucy hurried back to the kitchen.

  “Took y
ou long enough. Dessert service is just about to start,” Azad mumbled as he cut a tray of baklava in diamond-shaped slices. The pastry smelled delicious, a rich combination of butter, chopped walnuts, cinnamon, and flaky phyllo dough, and Lucy was momentarily distracted. A large jar of simple sugar syrup was on the counter waiting to be poured over the cut baklava. She’d be sure to have a piece as soon as this wedding was finally over.

  Azad halted his work to glare at her. “What? You want a piece now?”

  With a huff, Lucy slapped the key on the counter and walked away. She wanted to tell him that the wedding had more drama than a soap opera, but decided against it. No sense bringing up the subject of Henry Simms right now. Azad had reacted quite strongly the first time.

  Hours later, Lucy had forgotten the argument between Henry and Victoria. After serving twenty trays of baklava and wedding cake, they’d bagged slices of leftover cake and baklava for the guests to take home. When all the work was finished, Lucy let out a big sigh of relief. She pulled a stool up to the work counter and sipped a glass of water. Her lower back ached and her feet throbbed. Now that their catering work was done they could leave. The band was booked for only one more hour, and the staff of Castle of the Sea would remain to clean up the ballroom.

  Katie joined her with a plate of leftover wedding cake. She took a bite and shut her eyes. “Hmm. This is good.” She set down her fork and patted Lucy on the back. “Congratulations! Your first catering foray was a huge success.”

  “Thanks, but I couldn’t have done it without you, Azad, and Butch.”

  Katie thrust her plate of cake at Lucy. “Have a bite while I sneak into the ballroom to see if there’s extra champagne to celebrate.” She pushed back her stool and headed out of the kitchen and into the ballroom.

  Butch approached and smiled, his gold tooth flashing beneath the fluorescent lights. “Your friend is right. You did good, Lucy Lou.”

  She stood and hugged Butch. Her arms didn’t reach halfway around his massive chest.