Stabbed in the Baklava

by Tina Kashian

  Her mother glared at her. “Don’t be stubborn. What’s wrong with Azad? You liked him in the past.”

  “We’re now working together, remember? He’s my head chef.”

  “So? I’m married to your father and we owned a successful business together for thirty years.”

  That didn’t reassure Lucy. Her parents may love each other, but they were two hotheads who bickered on a daily basis.

  It was not the type of relationship Lucy wanted for herself.

  The music coming from the television changed from the cooking show to a commercial for acne cream. Pictures of pimple-riddled teenagers who’d miraculously morphed into clear-skinned girls and boys flashed across the screen.

  Angela glanced at the TV, made a face, and then turned back to Lucy. “Granted your father’s not perfect, but he’s loyal. Although I’m currently upset with him because he won’t take me to Cooking Kurt’s book signing.”

  Despite being fiercely independent, her mother didn’t drive. Her father had once hired a driving school to try to teach her, but she’d lasted one lesson behind the wheel, then insisted the teacher was a fool and didn’t know what she was doing. Lucy didn’t know who was more stubborn—Angela or Raffi Berberian.

  “Dad won’t take you because he dislikes the celebrity chef,” Lucy pointed out.

  “What does that matter? I dislike the nights his friends from church come to our house for backgammon. They’re too loud, drink too much raki, and smoke their stinky cigars in the house. But I still allow them to come, don’t I?”

  Lucy burst out laughing. “Fine. I promise to take you to the book signing.”

  Her mother smiled. “Good girl. Now, let’s finish cooking.”

  Thank heaven for that. No more talk of men. No Azad, or Cooking Kurt, or her father.

  Lucy went back to buttering, adding dollops of cheese mixture and folding phyllo into small triangles. After her third tray, her muscles were protesting. Her mother showed no signs of slowing down, and Lucy was amazed at her stamina.

  The first trays were done baking and the delicious smell of buttered, cheese-filled pastry filled the kitchen. Lucy’s stomach grumbled.

  Angela used a spatula to transfer one from the baking sheet to a plate and held it out to Lucy. “Taste it. I need to make sure it’s right.”

  Lucy was more than happy to oblige her. She bit into the buttered, flaky pastry, and the Muenster cheese filling melted like heaven in her mouth. “Mmm. It’s delicious, Mom.”

  “Good. We’re almost finished. I’m stopping at three dozen,” Angela said.

  “Why not prepare the entire six dozen?”

  Angela sighed in exasperation. “I already told you why.”

  “And I told you that I don’t want you to cut back on orders. We’ll make it work, I promise.”

  “Are you going to use your lawyering skills to get our van back?”

  “If I have to, yes.”

  Angela pursed her lips and eyed her. “Fine. But I still don’t want you getting involved in that murder. I want you to stay safe, Lucy.”

  “I will.” That was a promise Lucy intended to keep. She’d had enough risky business from the last murder she’d gotten involved in, months ago. She still had bad dreams of dark and shadowy alleyways and her narrow escape from death.

  But she couldn’t stop herself from wondering. The faster she solved the case, the sooner Detective Clemmons would have to return the van, wouldn’t he?

  CHAPTER 9

  Katie was waiting for Lucy in the restaurant’s back parking lot the next day. Close to three o’clock, it was after the lunch rush and right before dinner service, when the restaurant was slow. Lucy left Emma in charge of the dining room and Azad in the kitchen.

  Katie leaned against her jeep and smiled when Lucy stepped outside. Gadoo was sitting at her feet and Katie was scratching the orange and black cat beneath his chin.

  Gadoo purred. “He likes you,” Lucy said.

  “You sound surprised.” Katie continued to pet the cat.

  “He doesn’t approach many people. Only family. He hides behind the Dumpster for everyone else.”

  “I guess I’m family to him.”

  Lucy cocked her head to the side and smiled. “Yes. You are. To me too.”

  “Aww. Thanks, Lucy.” Katie turned her attention back to the cat. “Gadoo’s getting fat.”

  “That’s because my mom keeps feeding him liver treats.”

  Katie chuckled. “Please tell your mom that I love her baklava. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Don’t encourage her. She’ll try to feed you more than just baklava. Mom thinks everyone who crosses her path needs a good meal.” Lucy had been trying to watch her weight since returning to Ocean Crest, but running a restaurant and having Angela Berberian as her mother was a bad combination. She needed to double the number of times she jogged up and down the boardwalk.

  Katie pushed away from the car. “Great. Tell your mom Bill and I would be happy to come to her house for a meal.”

  “I’ll do that. But make sure you don’t eat that entire day,” Lucy said.

  Katie laughed as she pulled her keys from her jeans pocket. “Are you ready to question Victoria Redding?”

  “Don’t you have to get back to work?” Lucy asked.

  “Nope. I worked through lunch and took an hour of personal time. I wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  Lucy eyed the jeep. “Maybe I should drive?”

  “Why?”

  “No offense, but you have a tendency to drive like you’re racing in the Indy Five Hundred.”

  “Hey. Watch it. You tend to be a backseat driver.”

  “Don’t get your lashes in a knot. If you try to obey all the local speed laws, I promise to zip it.” Lucy made a motion across her lips with her thumb and forefinger.

  Katie grinned. “Deal. Now, do you have what we need?”

  Lucy showed her a large manila envelope she’d tucked under her arm. “These are all the catering bills and invoices for Scarlet and Bradford’s wedding. I added a few items, and I hope it’s good enough to get us through Victoria’s door. I already received a down payment for the catering job, and everything else was handled through the mail. Victoria is bound to wonder why I’m hand delivering the final bill.”

  Katie winked. “You’re a lawyer. I have faith in your ability to talk and charm.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’s been months since I left the firm. I’m getting rusty.”

  Katie opened the car door. “Nonsense. Lawyers are like sharks. You can take them out of the ocean and stuff them in an aquarium tank, but they still have razor-sharp teeth and a scent for blood.”

  Lucy burst out laughing. Katie always had a way with words.

  But some shark she was. She was still nervous about approaching Victoria. Lucy clutched the envelope as she opened the passenger side door and stepped inside Katie’s jeep.

  “If all else fails, you can tell her you’re hand delivering it because you wanted to save a stamp,” Katie said as she started the engine.

  Lucy buckled her seat belt, and Katie drove past the town’s mile-long main strip. They passed Holloway’s Grocery, Magic’s Family Apothecary, and Cutie’s Cupcakes. Soon Lucy spotted the twisted red and white barber pole of Ben’s Barber Shop as they neared the end of the strip and drove closer to the ocean. Sand dunes and dune fences came into view, and she knew they were important natural barriers that protected the coastline. The dunes were a fixture and without them it wouldn’t look like the Jersey shore.

  The air from the open window was warm, a typical June day in Ocean Crest, and Lucy loved the heat despite the high humidity that could feel like a wet blanket against your skin.

  True to her word, Katie kept the jeep’s speedometer to a legal thirty-five miles per hour, but the pedestrian traffic made that a necessity. Katie yielded for a family of four heading to the beach. The father pulled a loaded beach cart with protruding boogie boards and a mesh bag o
f sand toys tied to the side of the cart. The mother held the hands of her two young daughters in pigtails who wore matching rash guards and flip-flops. Memories returned in a rush, of Lucy and Emma with their parents spending lazy summer days at the beach building sand castles and boogie-boarding in the surf. The Jersey shore was in her blood and the pull back home had been strong.

  Katie turned onto a side street and the Sandpiper Bed and Breakfast came into view—a Victorian-style home that resembled a dollhouse with elaborate wood trim, bright blue and orange paint, and a wraparound porch. White rocking chairs and lanterns resting on end tables completed the picture, with guests reclining on a summer afternoon while sipping iced tea and waving to passersby strolling down the street. It was a throwback to another time, and the only modern item was a lit neon sign that blinked NO VACANCY every three seconds. The summer season was in full swing and a tourist would be hard pressed to find a place to stay in Ocean Crest without a reservation made months ago.

  Katie parked in a spot labeled VISITORS ONLY, and they stepped out of the car. Opening the front door, they entered a sitting room tastefully decorated with a red velvet settee and antique end tables and lamps. A woman in her midsixties with dyed blond hair wearing a yellow dress with printed daisies and a starched white apron walked into the room.

  “Hello, Katie. What a nice surprise.”

  Katie smiled at the older woman. “Hi, Hannah. This is my friend, Lucy Berberian. Lucy, this is Hannah Smith. She owns the Sandpiper.”

  “Of course!” Hannah said as she shook Lucy’s hand. “Your parents are lovely people. How are Angela and Raffi?”

  “They are doing well, thank you,” Lucy said.

  Hannah cupped Lucy’s hand. “A while back your mother asked if I could go to a book-signing at Pages Bookstore with her to get a signed copy of Cooking Kurt’s latest cookbook. Unfortunately, I had to decline because I have to work that day. But you know who he is, don’t you?”

  Lucy smiled. “I’ve seen him on TV once or twice.” The image of the two older women fawning over the hot celebrity chef was amusing.

  “I’m afraid I finished cleaning up from brunch, but I can always put on a fresh pot of coffee. Or do you ladies prefer tea?” Hannah asked.

  “Thank you, but we don’t want to put you to any trouble. We’re here to speak with one of your guests,” Katie said.

  “Which one?” Hannah asked. “I have a full house this week.”

  “Victoria Redding.”

  Hannah’s eyes grew large, and she leaned close and lowered her voice. “Does your visit have anything to do with that socialite’s wedding? It was awful what happened to Mr. Simms at the reception. He was a fixture at the town bank.”

  Gossip traveled as fast as the Internet in Ocean Crest, and Lucy didn’t want to start another stint. She especially didn’t want their visit to get back to Detective Clemmons or Prosecutor Walsh. “It was a tragedy, but the restaurant catered the wedding and we are here today just to go over the final bill with Ms. Redding.” Lucy held up her manila envelope as if that would back up her story. If by chance Clemmons heard about their visit, she had a good excuse.

  “I usually don’t like to bother my guests. The Sandpiper is quiet and my guests expect a level of privacy, but since I know you both, I think it would be fine. Ms. Redding is in room number five. Upstairs. First door on your left.”

  “Thank you,” Lucy and Katie said in unison.

  Halfway up the winding wooden staircase, Katie whispered, “See. I knew you could do it.”

  “Don’t congratulate me just yet. I’m more nervous than before. I didn’t know Hannah Smith was friends with my mother. I hope our visit doesn’t get back to her. My mom will know we’re getting involved with this murder business.” Lucy was almost as wary of her mother as she was of Prosecutor Walsh.

  They reached the top of the stairs and turned right. Lucy rapped on the first door.

  Seconds later, footsteps sounded inside the room and the door opened. Victoria stood in the doorway dressed in black slacks, a red silk blouse, stilettos, and a full face of makeup. She held her purse in one hand and car keys in another. Clearly, she was on her way out.

  “May I help you?” she asked tersely.

  Lucy took a small step forward. “Hello, Ms. Redding. You remember my friend, Katie Watson, from the wedding reception.”

  Victoria’s kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “I remember. What do you both want?”

  “There are some last-minute additions to the catering bill, and I thought it would be best to go over everything in person,” Lucy said as she shifted the envelope from one hand to the other.

  “What last minute additions? We went over everything beforehand. There was a contract,” Victoria said.

  “Yes, I know. But things came up. Can we come inside and go over everything before I send the final bill? That way there won’t be any surprises or conflicts,” Lucy said.

  Victoria huffed, and Lucy could tell she was contemplating slamming the door in her face, but business won out. “Fine. But we have to make it quick. I was on my way out to visit Scarlet.” She held the door open, and Lucy and Katie stepped inside. The room was decorated in lovely Victorian style with flocked wallpaper and antique cherry bedroom furniture.

  Victoria motioned for Lucy and Katie to seat themselves on a blue settee situated beneath the window. Lucy set out her paperwork on a coffee table, and Victoria sat in an armchair across from them. Her strong floral perfume made Lucy’s nose itch. It was the same perfume she had smelled on the day of the wedding, only fainter.

  Lucy cleared her throat and looked Victoria in the eye. “I’m sorry about what happened to Henry. It was a true tragedy.”

  “Yes, it was. Shocking and upsetting to everyone at that wedding.” Victoria eyed her. “But I’m surprised you of all people would mention it. Isn’t your chef a prime suspect?”

  Lucy expected hostility from Victoria. The memory of Detective Clemmons questioning Azad and Lucy while Henry’s body was sprawled in the back of the van wasn’t something she could easily forget. “The police have not made any arrests. They are still investigating.”

  Victoria’s lips narrowed. “But you tried to blame me.”

  Lucy straightened. “No. I was just telling them what I’d heard.”

  Victoria huffed. “I can tell you this much. Henry had been a longtime friend of the groom since college, and Henry recommended me as the wedding planner. I was grateful to him.”

  She hadn’t sounded grateful to Lucy in the parking lot of Castle of the Sea. Henry had accused her of acting like a shrew. “I heard you argue,” Lucy retorted.

  “So? Weddings are stressful events. I was responsible for making sure Scarlet and Bradford had a perfect day. Henry had a tendency to drink too much and do and say stupid things.”

  That much was true. Lucy had witnessed Henry’s drunken behavior firsthand when he’d burst into the kitchen and demanded whiskey.

  Victoria looked Lucy directly in the eye. “I may have yelled at him in the parking lot and taken his cell phone, but I did it to get his attention. I did not murder the man.”

  Kate leaned forward in her seat. “Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Henry?”

  Victoria waved a hand. “Ha! I could give you a long list of people who disliked Henry.”

  “Can you limit it to those who’d want to kill him?” Lucy asked.

  Victoria smoothed her hair before answering. “His wife, Holly Simms. Their marriage wasn’t amicable.”

  “Amicable is one thing,” Lucy said, “but murder is something else entirely. Why would Holly want to kill her husband?”

  “Because she recently found out Henry was having an affair,” Victoria said.

  Lucy dropped the envelope on the table in surprise. “An affair? With whom?”

  Victoria made a disgusted face. “Cressida.”

  Lucy’s jaw went slack. “Cressida Connolly? Scarlet’s maid of honor?”

  “That’s rig
ht.”

  “But Cressida must be . . .” Lucy hesitated as her mind made the calculation.

  “Almost thirty years younger,” Victoria finished the math for her. At Lucy’s amazed look, Victoria scoffed. “Not only is she young enough to be his daughter, but she is Scarlet’s best friend. The two girls went to private high school together.”

  “Did Scarlet know?” Katie asked.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me. Scarlet once told me that they both wanted to snag older, rich men. Sugar daddies, they’d call them,” Victoria said, her expression one of disgust.

  Sugar daddies? Lucy found it hard to believe that in today’s day and age, that would be a woman’s goal.

  “The fact is that Henry had been a cheater, and his wife Holly was humiliated when she discovered the truth,” Victoria said.

  “How do you know Holly found out?” Katie asked.

  “It happened at the rehearsal,” Victoria said. “I was organizing the progression of the bridal party in the church. Bradford was waiting by the altar, and the best man was nowhere to be found. Neither was the maid of honor. I went in search of them and found them alone in one of the dressing rooms. Cressida was in Henry’s arms. When they heard me come in the two jumped apart looking as guilty as burglars fleeing a convenience store with a bag of cash. When I turned around to leave, I ran straight into Holly. She’d been right behind me the entire time.”

  “What did Holly do?” Katie asked.

  “Nothing. She just walked away. But I caught a glimpse of her face. She was livid.”

  “You believe Holly was mad enough to kill her husband?” Lucy asked.

  Victoria looked at her like she was a simpleton. “Her husband had cheated with a much younger woman. The maid of honor, no less. It was like a slap in the face.”

  “Did you ever overhear Holly and Henry fight?”

  “No. Holly was surprisingly quiet for the rest of the wedding rehearsal.” Victoria crossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair. “But if it turns out the murderer wasn’t Holly, then I’d put my money on that hotheaded chef of yours.”