Stabbed in the Baklava

by Tina Kashian

  They started up the street, but before they came close to the winding driveway, the front door opened and Cressida stepped onto the porch. Locking the front door, she hurried to her car in the driveway. Seconds later, she backed out of the driveway and sped down the street.

  “Shoot. We’ll have to come back another time,” Katie said.

  Lucy placed a hand on Katie’s arm to halt her when she would have turned around. “Not so fast. We can peek in her windows.”

  Katie looked at her in disbelief. “Peek in her windows? Are you crazy? What if the neighbors see us?”

  “It’s twilight and the sun’s going down fast. No one will notice us.”

  Katie shook her head. “It’s too risky.”

  “It’s worth it,” Lucy said. “We may be able to learn something. Don’t they do it all the time in those TV crime shows you watch?”

  “I suppose, but—”

  Lucy started walking across Cressida’s front lawn. “I’m going. I’ll meet you back at the restaurant if you want.”

  That spurred Katie into action. “Don’t you dare! Wait for me.”

  Lucy flashed a wide grin, and Katie halted. “You just played me. You knew I wouldn’t let you go by yourself, didn’t you?”

  “I also know you need a little push sometimes,” Lucy said.

  Katie was initially more eager to get involved in murder investigations whereas Lucy held back, but when it came to risky situations, Katie could get cold feet.

  “All right. Let’s go,” Katie said. “If we get arrested, you’ll have to explain it to Bill.”

  “I’ll tell him it was all my idea.”

  “Like he’ll believe you,” Katie scoffed.

  Together they walked around the side of the house. Black aluminum patio furniture with red and green striped cushions was situated around a stamped concrete patio that looked remarkably similar to stone. The dying embers of the sun reflected off two windows and a sliding glass door. Lucy peered in one of the windows while Katie glanced in the sliding glass door.

  Lucy’s heart pounded. Despite her bravado about sneaking a peek inside Cressida’s home, she was concerned that at any minute one of the neighbors would throw open their own windows and threaten to call the police.

  Thankfully the curtains were open and Lucy could see inside to a kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. Large plastic bottles of protein powder and individual protein shakes were on the granite countertop beside a fancy blender that she’d seen featured on infomercials to help lose weight and promote a healthy diet. Containers labeled “flax” and “chia seeds” and “cocoa powder” sat on a matching granite island. Cressida had claimed she wasn’t a cook, but it was clear she was health conscious.

  “Other than Cressida being a bit of a health nut, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary,” Lucy said.

  “I don’t see anyone inside,” Katie said.

  Lucy joined Katie at the sliding glass door to look inside. Reaching for the door handle, she cracked it an inch, then looked up, surprised. “It’s unlocked!”

  Katie’s gaze flew to Lucy. “We can’t go inside! What if there’s an alarm? Sneaking onto the patio and peeking inside windows is one thing, but breaking and entering is another thing entirely.”

  “An alarm hasn’t sounded. Cressida left in such a hurry, there’s a good chance that if she has one she didn’t put it on.” Lucy opened the sliding glass door another inch. “No barking guard dog.” She urged Katie forward with her hand. “Come on. This is a great chance to unearth information. We can look through her mail and personal belongings. They did it on the last episode of Hawaii Five-O that I watched with you.”

  “For God’s sake. Stop talking about my favorite TV shows,” Katie said. “And what are you going to do with that?” Katie lowered her gaze to the take-out box of stew in Lucy’s hand.

  Lucy frowned. “You’re right. If I take this inside, the garlic smell will linger and be a telltale sign that someone had been inside.” She scanned the patio. “What do I do with it?”

  “Stuff it under a bush. We’ll get it on our way out.”

  Crouching down, Lucy slid the Styrofoam box beneath a hedgerow.

  This time, it was Katie who slid open the glass door and entered the house. Taking one last look around, Lucy followed and darted inside.

  The sliding door led directly into a tastefully decorated family room with furniture that smelled new and expensive. A large flat-screen television and state-of-the-art stereo system decked out the space. Max had told her that the bungalow came fully furnished. If Katie hadn’t confirmed that Cressida’s mother had been a working, single parent, Lucy would have assumed she’d left Cressida with a sizable inheritance.

  Picture frames were displayed on an end table by the sofa. One of the pictures caught her eye. It was a framed print of Cressida and Henry Simms at the Ocean Crest boardwalk at night. She was dressed in a low-cut sundress, and he was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt. His arm was around her and she was leaning into his chest and pressing a kiss on his cheek. The bright lights of the Ferris wheel shone behind them.

  Lucy’s gut tightened. Their pose reminded her of the newspaper picture the nosy reporter Stan Slade had shoved at her—only Cressida had been in Azad’s arms, not Henry’s.

  “Check it out.” Lucy showed Katie the picture.

  Katie came over and took the picture frame from Lucy. “I don’t get it. Even though Henry was a handsome and fit older man, what could the two of them really have had in common?”

  “Maybe it was about money,” Lucy said. “Henry was addicted to gambling. I’m thinking he spent a lot of his cash winnings on Cressida.”

  “It makes sense.” Katie went to a computer sitting in a corner and pulled out an office chair. A screen saver flashed a picture of a tropical island. “I’ll check her browsing history.”

  “Okay. I’ll search here.” Lucy returned the picture frame to the table and sat on the couch before the glass coffee table. Paperwork cluttered the surface along with marble paperweights and a silver letter opener. A stack of unopened mail was piled in the corner. She scanned the return labels to find mostly credit card bills. She couldn’t open the personal letters but read the addresses. Pushing aside catalogs and magazine subscriptions, Lucy noticed a manila envelope. The return address read, “Staedler Insurance Company.” The envelope had been sliced open and the paperwork slid out.

  She quickly flipped through the stacks of papers. She came to the second-to-the-last page, and her breath caught in her throat. “My God.”

  Katie spun around, her eyes wide. “What?”

  “It’s Henry’s million-dollar life insurance policy changing the beneficiary from his wife, Holly Simms, to Cressida Connolly. The change was dated a month ago.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Lucy shook her head. “It looks like a copy. Henry must have given it to Cressida.”

  “A million dollars is a lot of money for a college student. Maybe she decided she wanted the cash and killed her lover?”

  “It’s possible. Especially if Henry refused to leave Holly. Cressida could have killed him out of jealousy.”

  “What about Holly? Do you think she knew about the change of beneficiary?”

  “Legally she’d have to sign the change of beneficiary form. But it’s not uncommon for spouses to sign documents without reading them. It happens all the time with taxes.” Lucy thought back to when she’d questioned Holly outside the Big Tease Salon. “But the thing is, I believed her when she told me she was the beneficiary as his wife.”

  “She could have lied. Or maybe she learned the truth afterward and went ballistic? Not only had her husband cheated on her, but he betrayed her further by taking care of his mistress in case of his death. Even though Holly wouldn’t get the insurance payout, she must have been furious. She claims she doesn’t need the cash, but maybe she saw red and killed him.”

  “I don’t know. But right now, it doesn’t look good for either Hol
ly or Cressida. One of them is most likely the killer.” Lucy eyed the remaining stacks of paper on the coffee table. “You keep looking on her computer while I sift through the rest of this.”

  They worked in silence for fifteen minutes. Then the scrape of footsteps by the back sliding glass door made Lucy freeze. Trepidation settled low in her gut. “She’s back!” she whispered.

  Katie jumped out of the computer chair. “We have to get out.”

  Lucy sprang to her feet to grasp her arm. “There’s no time! She’s right outside. Find a place to hide.” Panic welled in her throat, and she frantically scanned the room. A coat closet door was ajar, and she thrust Katie toward it. “In here. Quick.”

  They slipped in the coat closet, stepping past rain boots and shoes. Pushing their way to the back wall, they slid the coats on the rack in front of them for cover. Katie made to shut the closet door when Lucy stopped her. “Leave it ajar. She may notice if we shut it.” Katie cracked the closet door a few inches just as the sliding glass door opened.

  “I don’t like this at all,” a male voice sounded. “Do you think anyone saw us?”

  “No. That’s why I didn’t have you come through the front door. The neighbors can be nosy in this town,” Cressida said.

  Through the pie wedge of light, Lucy spotted Bradford Papadopoulos and Cressida in the room. What was Bradford doing here?

  Bradford started pacing the beige carpet. “How did you figure it out?”

  “I saw you sneaking pictures with your cell phone at the reception. I always knew Henry didn’t sell those pictures to the tabloids.”

  Bradford continued to burn a path in the carpet as he walked back and forth. “You have to promise not to tell Scarlet. I don’t want her to know.”

  Cressida crossed her arms and faced him. “I don’t like keeping secrets from my best friend. You’re married now, and you should trust her. Why don’t you tell her that it was you who sold the pictures to the tabloids?”

  “I told you why. Scarlet wanted to keep the wedding private.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice,” Bradford said, a tenseness in his voice. “We needed the cash after Henry stole from our account. I lied and told Scarlet that Henry had paid it all back. I hoped the sale of the tabloid pictures would be enough to open the perfume line. And the free publicity would help, too.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  “No. It’s still not enough cash. Henry screwed me, but he couldn’t help himself. He had an addiction.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you just forgive him?”

  Bradford stopped pacing. “Henry saved my butt back in college. I pulled a stupid prank with two of our fraternity brothers and stole a professor’s car. We accidentally crashed into a tree. Henry came in his own car and drove me away before campus police showed up. I would have been expelled.”

  Cressida snorted. “That wasn’t just a dumb prank, but a mean one.”

  “You’re right. But Henry saved me, and I owed him.” Bradford ran a hand down his face. “I don’t want you to tell Scarlet that I sold the tabloid pictures or that Scarlet’s Passion is a bust. I’m still scrambling to raise the money.”

  “Fine. But you’re selling your house. Don’t you think she’ll suspect?”

  “No. I told her I didn’t like it and that we’d be better off renting in this market. I want you to keep it a secret.”

  “You’re asking me to lie to my friend.”

  Bradford looked at her in amazement. “Oh, please. Like you don’t have secrets of your own that you’ve been keeping from her.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I know about you and Henry.”

  Cressida’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Shut your mouth. You know nothing.”

  Bradford took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Look, there’s no need to get nasty. We’re all under a lot of stress since Henry’s death. I’m sorry about that. I know how much he meant to you.”

  Cressida’s face crumbled. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been uptight as well. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. Some caffeine sounds good.”

  The closet was hot as Hades. A bead of sweat trickled between Lucy’s breasts. She could sense Katie’s nervousness. Katie shifted and bumped an umbrella from the overhead shelf. Katie reached out to catch the umbrella, but it slipped through her fingers and fell to the bottom of the closet with a loud thud.

  Oh, crap.

  “What was that?” Bradford asked.

  “I don’t know,” Scarlet said. “It came from the closet. I’ll go check.”

  Despite the heat of the small space, icy fear ran down Lucy’s spine.

  Lucy nudged the umbrella to the front of the closet with the toe of her shoe and then crouched behind the coats alongside Katie a split second before Cressida opened the door and light flooded the space.

  “It’s just an umbrella.” Cressida picked it up, slid it back onto the overhead shelf, and pushed the door closed.

  Darkness consumed the space as relief rushed through Lucy.

  “Two cups of coffee coming right up.” Footsteps sounded on the ceramic tiles in the kitchen.

  Lucy cracked the closet door and pointed to the sliding glass door. “We have to get out of here,” she whispered.

  Katie nodded, her eyes wide disks.

  “On three,” Lucy whispered. “One . . . two . . . three!”

  They darted out of the closet and made a beeline for the sliding glass door. Thrusting it open, they ran outside and sprinted across the patio and away from the house.

  Seconds later, a shout pierced the night air.

  “Stop!” Bradford’s voice.

  Sheer black fright ran through Lucy. They sprinted into the neighbor’s backyard. “Keep away from the streetlights,” Lucy called out. Katie understood. They couldn’t afford to have their faces illuminated from the bright streetlights and identified.

  Running from backyard to backyard, they darted past fancy fountains and immaculately trimmed hedges and freshly mulched flowerbeds. They almost made it to the end of Oyster Street, but the last house had a white picket fence. Footsteps sounded behind them. Lucy dared a quick glance behind to see Bradford in full pursuit.

  He was gaining on them. They’d never be able to outrun him. Lucy made a quick decision. Home owners in Ocean Crest usually installed fences to prevent their pets from escaping and didn’t always lock their gates. It was a gamble, but there was only one way to find out if her theory was true.

  She headed straight for the fence and reached for the gate handle.

  Unlocked.

  Yes! She ran to the opposite gate and threw it open. Just as Katie would have passed her to fly by, Lucy grasped her arm.

  “Over there.” Lucy pointed to a beige vinyl shed that was half the size of Katie’s house. Katie got the message, and they sprinted to the shed, crouching down on the grass behind it. Seconds later, Bradford burst through the gate, whirled around in the center of the backyard, and spotted the open gate on the opposite end of the yard. He ran through it and toward the street.

  Thank goodness. Her ploy had worked. Lucy hoped he’d run down Oyster Street looking for them and eventually give up the search.

  Lucy’s heart thundered in her chest. As she inhaled to catch her breath she noticed two things: the strong smell of ocean and the distinct sound of the boardwalk’s wooden roller coaster. The house was closer to the beach than she’d thought. If they could make it to the boardwalk, they could blend in with the tourists.

  They waited a full five minutes, but Bradford didn’t circle back, and Lucy prayed he’d think he’d lost them.

  “This way.” Lucy whispered for Katie to follow, and together they left the backyard and dashed for the street. They ducked behind cars, minivans, and delivery trucks until they finally made it to the boardwalk. Gasping and sweating, they ran up the boardwalk ramp. Throngs of tourists walked the boards at
night and they blended in with the crowd.

  Katie doubled over and panted beneath the awning of a fudge shop. “Do you think he recognized us?”

  “No,” Lucy said, breathing heavily. “But that was a really close call.”

  Katie rubbed her side. “I still can’t believe it. Bradford sold those pictures to the tabloids, not Henry. He needed the cash to start Scarlet’s Passion, and he hoped the publicity would work as free advertising.”

  “Bradford told Scarlet that Henry had returned the money he’d stolen. He’d lied to her,” Lucy pointed out.

  “Bradford claimed he owed Henry and forgave him,” Katie said.

  “He could have lied about that, too.”

  Katie shook her head in disbelief. “The entire wedding party is crazy.”

  “You need to tell Bill what we learned, but not how we learned it,” Lucy said.

  “I’ll figure something out. Detective Clemmons can’t look the other way now. There are too many suspects with motives stronger than Azad’s.”

  “Meanwhile, I want to have a heart-to-heart with Holly again. Find out exactly what she knew about that million-dollar life insurance policy.”

  “Good idea.”

  “I just thought of another problem,” Lucy said.

  A crease formed between Katie’s brows. “What?”

  “I forgot the stew under Cressida’s bushes.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Thank goodness no one had yet to burst into the restaurant with the Styrofoam take-out container and accuse Lucy and Katie of breaking and entering. Lucy hoped the food would stay undiscovered until neighborhood raccoons dragged it away, or until it froze solid during the winter—or better still—until she finally cracked the case.

  Meanwhile, she had a “date” with Azad that night to go over what she’d learned so far and to ask him a few more questions about Cressida Connolly. A few hours later, a knock on Katie’s front door filled her with a strange inner excitement.

  Azad stood on the porch. “You look great, Lucy.”

  Her cheeks reddened under the heat of his gaze. She stepped onto the porch and closed the door. “Thanks.”