Stabbed in the Baklava

by Tina Kashian

  “Lord, he looks even better in person,” Lucy’s mom said.

  A middle-aged woman stepped up to the table and squealed in delight. Kurt stood to greet his fan, and his cotton coat stretched to revealed broad muscles and impressive biceps. Lucy wondered if he spent more time in the gym than in the kitchen. He smiled, revealing dazzling white teeth, and kissed the woman’s cheek. She turned bright red, then looked as if she was going to hyperventilate when he put his arm around her and struck a manly pose as her friend eagerly snapped a picture with her iPhone.

  Lucy’s mother grabbed her arm and tugged her forward. “We better get in line before he runs out of cookbooks.”

  “Easy, Mom.” Lucy stumbled as she was dragged to the back of the line. “Are you sure Dad wouldn’t have brought you?”

  “Of course he would have.” Her mother stood on tiptoe to get a better look through the throng of people in line, a useless attempt with her five-foot frame.

  “Then why didn’t you ask him again?” Lucy asked, feeling more than a bit frustrated.

  Her mom shuffled to the right, then back to the left in an attempt to find a gap in the crowd to see. “Sometimes I like to keep your father guessing.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Her mother gave an impatient shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping a man a bit off kilter. That way they don’t take you for granted.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure she wanted this type of advice, especially from her mother. “That makes no sense.”

  “When you’ve been married as long as I have to your father, it makes perfect sense.”

  “What’s wrong with telling him how you feel and—”

  “Bah!” Her mother finally turned to face Lucy and waved her hand in exasperation. “When I’m dead, you’ll realize just how right I am.”

  Lucy’s response was cut off as another excited squeal sounded and the line moved up.

  Candace Kent waved at them as she walked around with a wide smile greeting customers. Returning the wave, Lucy spotted a flash of red hair around one of the shelves toward the back of the store. Her heart leaped in her chest.

  Only one person had that shade of hair color.

  Could it be?

  Lucy stepped out of line and scanned the area, but she didn’t spot Cressida. “Mom, I see a book I want. I’ll be right back.”

  Her mother let out an exasperated sigh as a group of soccer moms moved in to take numerous pictures with Kurt. She tucked a loose bobby pin that had escaped her beehive behind her ear. “Take your time. It looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

  Lucy hurried to the back of the store, craning to look down aisles as she went. Turning a corner, she spotted her prey in the self-help aisle reading the back of a hardcover. Another book—which looked like a college textbook—was on the floor by her feet.

  “Cressida Connolly?” Lucy asked.

  Cressida jumped as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She quickly returned the book she’d been reading to the shelf. “Yes?”

  “I’m Lucy Berberian. I was at Scarlet and Bradford’s wedding. I’m sorry for what happened to Henry Simms. How are you doing?”

  The corners of Cressida’s lips turned downward. “I’m still in shock over what happened.”

  “That’s understandable. Henry was the best man and your escort as the maid of honor. It must have been a frightening experience.”

  Cressida shook her head. “Fortunately, I never saw him after he was killed. Many of us never found out about the murder until after the reception.”

  Any one of the bridal party could have killed Henry, including Cressida. The time of death had been determined to be near the end of the reception, when the bridal party was still present.

  Lucy pointed to the textbook at Cressida’s feet. “Statistics? I remember taking that class in college. Not my favorite subject.”

  “Mine either. I’m taking online college classes and thought this review book might help.”

  “Are you also here for an autographed cookbook?” Lucy asked.

  Cressida chuckled. “I have no interest in cooking, even if the chef is hot. I always come here on the same day of the week. I just didn’t know there was a book signing here today.”

  Out of the entire bridal party, Lucy knew the least about Cressida. “Are you or your family from around here?”

  “Not exactly. I was born a couple towns north in Baytown, but still near the Jersey shore.”

  “How nice. Are your parents still there?”

  “My mom died several years ago. She was a single parent.”

  “Sorry about losing your mom.” Lucy took a step forward. “The truth is, I’ve been curious about what happened at the wedding, and when I saw you in the bookstore I came searching for you. Can I ask you a few questions about that day?”

  Cressida’s demeanor changed, and she stiffened. “What kinds of questions?”

  Cressida had a wary look now, but Lucy pressed on. “Like I said, I was at the wedding and the whole thing upsets me. I want to know more about what happened to that man.”

  “I’ve been through all this with that boorish, unattractive investigator.”

  “I understand, but I’m not a cop. Do you remember the last time you saw Henry that night? It would be a good help.”

  Cressida wrinkled her nose. “It was near the end of the reception. Maybe ten o’clock.”

  “Where’d you see him?”

  “On the dance floor. He was shaking it up pretty good and looked like he was enjoying himself.”

  He’d also been very intoxicated. Lucy had been surprised he hadn’t fallen flat on his face. “That was the last time you saw Henry alive?” she asked.

  “That’s right.” Cressida’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

  “One more question. Do you know who would have wanted to harm Henry?”

  “No.”

  “You sure? What about any of his acquaintances at the wedding?”

  A spark of emotion crossed her face—trepidation? anger?—before it was replaced with a cool blue gaze. “That’s more than one question,” she snapped. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”

  Lucy watched as Cressida picked up the math textbook and walked away. She waited until Cressida was out of sight, then searched for the spine of the book Cressida had quickly shoved on the shelf. Picking up the book, Lucy read the title: Put Yourself First and Gain the Love You Deserve.

  Whose love did Cressida seek to gain?

  Henry’s?

  That would never happen now.

  Had Cressida’s self-worth plummeted when Henry refused to leave his wife? Or had Cressida’s anger taken over, compelling her to stab her lover in the neck in a fit of jealousy?

  * * *

  That evening, Lucy showed up at Emma’s house with a new box of Legos and a steaming hot pizza. Emma’s ten-year-old daughter, Niari, opened the door.

  “How’s my favorite niece?” Lucy asked.

  Niari jumped up and down in excitement. “Mokour Lucy! I’m happy you’re babysitting tonight.”

  Niari always called her Mokour, which meant “mother’s sister” in Armenian. She was Emma and Max’s only child, and Lucy adored her. Niari was a mix between Emma and Max with an olive Mediterranean complexion and dark hair, but blue eyes from her father’s English and Irish heritage. She wore an Ocean Crest travel soccer uniform, and Lucy knew her parents drove her all over New Jersey to play the sport.

  Lucy kissed Niari’s cheek. “Did you win your game?”

  “You bet! Two to zip. We play at home next Saturday.”

  “I’ll be there. Meanwhile, tonight’s going to be a fun girls’ night.” Lucy stepped inside and shifted the hot pizza box in her hands.

  Niari eyed the box. “Is that pizza from the Hot Cheese Pizzeria? They make the best pepperoni pies.”

  “It is. We get to eat, then play Legos.” Her niece was obsessed with Legos and had an entire bookshelf
of completed Lego sets that she displayed with more pride than her soccer trophies.

  Niari shut the door behind her. “I have something even better to play.”

  “Better than Legos?”

  “I got a trampoline!”

  Lucy eyed her speculatively. “A trampoline?”

  “Daddy assembled it in the backyard. Come see!” Stopping long enough to take the pizza from Lucy and set it on the hall table, Niari grabbed Lucy’s hand and pulled her through the family room to look outside the window. Sure enough, a large, bright blue trampoline with black netting stood in the center of the backyard.

  “I can show you how to do flips.” Niari’s face glowed with youthful excitement.

  Lucy’s stomach bottomed out. “I’m not so sure about that . . .”

  “It’s easy. I’ll teach you.”

  Images of high school gym class came back in a rush. Lucy had attempted to tumble on one of the mats and had split her tights in front of the entire freshman class. It was the last time she’d even attempted anything close to gymnastics. “Where are your mom and dad?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  “You go out back and warm up on the trampoline while I have a word with your mom.” Lucy didn’t have to say it twice. Niari was out the back door like a shot.

  Lucy retrieved the pizza from the hall and found Emma in the kitchen making a pitcher of lemonade. She placed the pizza on the counter. “Hi, Emma.”

  “Hey, Lucy. Thanks for watching Niari. We’ll be back by midnight. Make sure she’s in bed before nine. She has a soccer tournament tomorrow in Cape May.”

  “No worries. That gives us plenty of time to play.”

  Emma looked nice in a black cocktail dress. Even though Lucy’s primary doctor had told her she was the perfect weight for her height, she was still envious of her sister’s slender figure. Emma never worked out whereas Lucy jogged miles and miles to stay trim. Lucy glanced longingly at the pizza box. Niari’s comment was right. Guido Morelli, the owner of the Hot Cheese Pizzeria, did make the best pepperoni pies.

  A colorful blur outside the kitchen window caught Lucy’s attention. Niari was flipping head over heels on the trampoline. Lucy’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch. “Niari wants to teach me flips.”

  Emma’s mouth drew downward as she mixed the lemonade with a large wooden spoon. “I told Max not to get it, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Listen to what?”

  Lucy and Emma whirled around to see Max in the doorway. He looked handsome dressed in a navy suit that brought out his sandy hair and blue eyes. “Hey, Lucy. I assume Emma is talking about the trampoline?”

  “Never mind about that,” Lucy said as she leaned against the counter. Emma frequently complained about Max’s long work hours and Lucy didn’t want to stir up trouble—especially on their date night. “How’s the season going?”

  “All the summer rentals were taken months ago. New sales should start picking up soon. Although news of a murder in town is going to hurt business.”

  “We all hope they find the killer soon.” Emma put the wooden spoon in the sink and poured a glass of lemonade from the pitcher and handed it to Lucy.

  “Is Calvin Clemmons even close?” Max asked.

  Lucy sipped the lemonade. It was perfect—sweet with a touch of tart. “I wish I knew. One thing is for sure: he’d like to pin the murder on Azad. He still holds a grudge against our family and he knows we rely on our new head chef.”

  “That’s my fault,” Emma said as a look of discomfort crossed her face. “Why did I ever call him Clingy Calvin in high school? I never thought the name would stick.”

  That wasn’t the only reason Clemmons was biased against their family, but Lucy dared not bring that up. Emma had cheated on Calvin with his best friend, Will Thomas, their senior year. Not very nice of her sister. Lucy had assumed she’d cheated on Calvin to end up with Max. Somehow, in Lucy’s mind, that had seemed more forgivable since the pair had gone on to marry. It wasn’t until a couple of months ago that Emma had confessed that she’d broken Calvin’s heart by hooking up with Will.

  “You may be right about Clemmons,” Max said, interrupting Lucy’s thoughts. “Members of the wedding party have contacted me about putting their houses on the market.”

  Lucy lowered her glass. “Who?”

  “For starters, Scarlet Westwood and her new husband, Bradford Papadopoulos,” Max said.

  Lucy blinked in surprise. “Didn’t they only recently buy a home in Ocean Crest? One of the McMansions on Oyster Street? She told me they planned to film a movie on the beach.”

  “They did. But it looks like their finances are not as well off as they’d hoped. Filming a movie takes a chunk of cash,” Max said.

  “What about her new business, Scarlet’s Passion?”

  “Rumor has it that the business may never launch due to lack of funding as well.”

  Holy cow. This was big news. Did Henry’s theft cause Scarlet’s Passion to go belly up before it ever launched? Scarlet had led her to believe that Henry had paid back what he’d stolen and her fragrance line would open for business as planned. But what if she’d lied? Or what if they weren’t able to get an influx of cash and Scarlet’s entrepreneurial dreams plummeted?

  What if Bradford and Scarlet knew this before the wedding?

  It would blow Scarlet’s claims of innocence to bits.

  “Detective Clemmons requested the bridal party to stay in town until the murder is resolved,” Lucy said. “How can Scarlet and Bradford leave?”

  Max opened the pizza box. “Just because they want to sell doesn’t mean they’ll leave town. They inquired about rentals. Also, the maid of honor asked to extend her own lease.”

  “Cressida Connolly? Do you know where she’s living?”

  “She’s been renting a house on Oyster Street. Number Nine.”

  “Another McMansion?”

  “Not one of the big ones, but a smaller bungalow. It’s new construction, has a high-end kitchen and bathrooms with Jacuzzis and skylights. Plus, it’s only a block from the beach.”

  Cressida had said she wasn’t a cook, and a state of the art kitchen would be a complete waste, but not the Jacuzzi or the close vicinity to the beach. “How much is the rental?”

  “During the summer months, it’s five thousand a week.”

  That was a large chunk of cash for an unemployed college student. Cressida had said she was raised by a single mother who’d passed away years ago. So where was she getting the money?

  “Do you know how she’s paying for the rental?” Lucy asked.

  “Once rent for the first two months clears and the application is approved by the owner, I don’t ask. Maybe she has a rich aunt somewhere.”

  Unlikely. Or maybe she’d had a rich sugar daddy. But if Henry had refused to leave Holly, had Cressida’s income stream run out? And had she retaliated by killing him for it?

  There was only one way to find out more. Lucy needed to pay Cressida a visit at her home.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Are you sure about this?” Katie asked.

  Lucy looked inside the Styrofoam take-out box in her hands. “I am. According to my mother, it’s neighborly to give food when someone is going through a trying time. Murder is trying.” It was the following day, and Lucy had an entire lunch and dinner shift to think of an excuse to approach Cressida again.

  “You think Cressida Connolly will take food from you? From what you told me, you didn’t make a good impression when you questioned her at the bookstore.”

  “True,” Lucy said. “But this is our specialty of the day, lamb and leek stew. I hope it’s enticing enough to get us through the front door. I also plan to apologize and offer my sympathies with food.”

  Katie sniffed the stew and closed her eyes. “Umm. It smells delicious. How much garlic did Azad use?”

  Lucy closed the lid. “Enough to give you bad breath for a day.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “It’s worth the risk.”r />
  They set off at a brisk pace. Oyster Street was ten or so blocks from Kebab Kitchen. It was a pleasant evening and they’d decided to walk after the restaurant’s dinner rush. Her parents and Emma were working and they were happy to watch the restaurant so that Lucy could take a break to walk with her friend. Of course, they thought they were strolling the boardwalk, not spying on a murder suspect.

  As they turned onto Oyster Street, the large mansions came into view. “Would you look at that fountain? The naked mermaids are ridiculous,” Lucy said.

  “The builder must have looked at dirty Internet pictures for inspiration.”

  Lucy grinned, her first real smile of the evening. “You have a wacky sense of humor.” Katie always had the ability to make her laugh. More and more, Lucy was grateful for her friendship. How had she stayed away from Ocean Crest for so long?

  Katie answered with her own smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She halted and pointed to a modest-sized bungalow compared to the huge houses. “There’s Number Nine. It’s small next to the others, but still bigger than my house.”

  “Max said the builder put up bungalows on the remaining small lots, but they’re still luxurious with new kitchens, bathrooms with Jacuzzis and skylights, and most important, they’re close to the beach. Cressida’s been renting this place a few months.”

  “I don’t get it. After you learned that Cressida was raised by a working, single mom, I did some more digging into her educational background. Cressida landed a scholarship and went to the same exclusive high school as Scarlet. That’s where the two girls met and became friends. Her father was never in the picture.”

  “She told me her mom passed away. She never mentioned her father.”

  “So how can an unemployed college student afford to live here?” Katie asked.

  “That’s what I hope to find out.”