One Feta in the Grave

by Tina Kashian

  “We know. That’s why we gave them the positions on the judging committee. They would have managed to find out the winner’s name beforehand anyway. This way, if the name is leaked, everyone will know it’s because of them.”

  “Clever.” Lucy placed her coffee cup in the sink. “I’m off for a run.”

  Her route was always the same. She’d chug to the end of the boardwalk, then run on the sand as she headed back. She wasn’t a natural-born runner like Katie, and the three-mile trek had only gotten marginally easier, but it wasn’t hard to convince herself to exercise. Being around food all day, especially her mother’s specialties as well as her favorite lemon meringue pie from Cutie’s Cupcakes, Lucy’s jogs had helped keep the weight off and her waist trim.

  The Ocean Crest boardwalk was an eclectic mix of shops that drew tourists from New Jersey and neighboring states. She passed two custard stands, a pizza shop, a tattoo parlor, and a self-professed psychic who read palms and tarot cards.

  She glanced into the darkened interior of the psychic’s small salon and spotted Madame Vega at her table. Dressed in a blue velvet robe with a matching turban, she peeled a card from a stack of tarot cards and placed it on the table before her customers, a pimply-faced teenager and her friend. Madame Vega claimed to descend from Hungarian gypsies and for five dollars she’d read your palm or your cards and predict your future. Angela said Madame Vega was actually from Philadelphia and her grandfather sold water ice at the Phillies’ games. Either way, she had been a boardwalk fixture since Lucy was a kid.

  Lucy plodded on. It was before eight, and already a throng of early-morning joggers, walkers, and bicycle riders were on the boards. The roller coaster on the pier was still; the rides wouldn’t start until noon. At night, the lights from the Ferris wheel would light up the night sky and the screams from the coaster could be heard blocks away.

  She passed the popcorn and french fry stand, breathing in the tantalizing smells, when she heard, “Watch the tramcar, please!” blare from speakers behind her. She turned to see Ocean Crest’s newest edition—the boardwalk tramcar. Bright yellow and blue, the twenty-seat vehicle offered tired tourists a ride up and down the boardwalk. It stopped at designated spots to pick up and drop off riders—mostly parents, children, babies in strollers, and senior citizens. Two college students, dressed in matching yellow and blue tops and black shorts, worked the tramcar. One stood in the rear to collect the three-dollar fee, and the other drove.

  Lucy swerved to the side as the tramcar’s speakers annoyingly blared, “Watch the tramcar, please!” as it drove by.

  Now that she was tired and sweaty, the tramcar looked good to Lucy. She slowly ran past as it stopped ahead to pick up passengers.

  Just as she came up to Seaside Gifts and the Sun and Surf Shop, Lucy spotted Archie Kincaid and Harold Harper facing each other, legs braced apart, in combative stances. The business neighbors were going at it again—this time, it seemed, over a rack of clothing.

  “I told you that you can’t put that in front of my store,” Harold protested.

  “I’m not. This is my storefront,” Archie countered.

  “Like hell it is. Move that rack or I’ll move it myself.” Harold’s face turned splotchy and red, almost matching his hair.

  Seriously? Did they have to argue over inches of space? There was sufficient business during the season for the shops, and in less than a couple hours, the bicycle riders and joggers would leave and the boardwalk would be crawling with tourists looking for beach souvenirs and T-shirts. Lucy rolled her eyes, then spotted a man leaning against the side of Archie’s shop. Tall and gaunt, he had shoulder-length, dirty blond hair and looked to be in his early twenties. He had to be Neil, Archie’s nephew, the aspiring artist and surfer.

  Neil watched the argument with hooded eyes, then pulled a cigarette from the pocket of a ripped and faded T-shirt and lit up. Clearly, he had no intention of getting involved in the bickering.

  Lucy couldn’t decide if he was lazy or smart.

  Next door to Archie’s store was Gray’s Novelty Shop. Making a quick decision, Lucy darted inside. A large glass tank of hermit crabs with painted shells sat in front of the shop. Inside, were shelves of sand toys, beach towels, and sunscreen. They’d added a large selection of local, handmade jewelry of shells and beads that filled the center of the store and was popular with the tourists.

  Edith Gray was arranging bracelets on a display. Edna was stocking the shelves with aloe vera gel.

  “Hi, Lucy!” Edna and Edith said in unison. Neither sister had married and the pair were in their seventies. Edna was tall and rail thin with a pointed nose while Edith was short and heavyset with a bulbous, red nose.

  “How does your niece like the hermit crabs?” Edna asked.

  “Niari loves them.” Lucy had purchased two crabs for Niari a few months ago, and they were still alive and crawling.

  “The festival is gearing up nicely. Do you know when they’ll announce the winner of the sand sculpture contest?” Edith asked.

  “Katie said they’re scheduled to announce the winner tomorrow beneath the bandstand and hand over the five-thousand-dollar prize.”

  Edna whistled. “That’s a hefty prize. I vote for the mermaid.”

  “No way,” Edith countered. “I say the sculpture of Zeus with his lightning bolt will take home the cash. What do you think, Lucy?”

  “I can’t say. I was one of the judges,” Lucy said.

  “Then you’re working double duty for the festival. We heard you’re in charge of organizing the food and wine tasting,” Edna said.

  Lucy nodded. “I’ll be setting up the tents on the boardwalk tomorrow morning, but the restaurants won’t start serving until noon and—”

  Raised voices sounded next door, cutting off her response. Lucy’s eyebrows drew downward, but the two sisters seemed unfazed.

  “What’s with your neighbors?” Lucy asked.

  Edith removed her reading glasses and they dangled by a chain around her neck. “Oh, posh. Are they bickering again?”

  “I jogged past them on the way here. It seems like Archie wants to put a rack of clothes outside his shop, but Harold says it’s encroaching on his territory,” Lucy said.

  Edna clucked her tongue. “They haven’t gotten along since day one. Archie lowered his prices on certain items to undercut Harold’s business. Harold retaliated by scheduling deliveries for four in the morning. Harold knows Archie and Neil live in an apartment above his store, and the noisy, early deliveries drive them batty.”

  “They are like children,” Edith said.

  “Yes, but just like bickering children, they have their redeeming qualities,” Edna claimed.

  “Such as?” Lucy asked.

  “Harold helped us paint our store last year. We couldn’t afford to hire a painter and he said he’d do the work for us,” Edna said.

  “That was nice,” Lucy agreed.

  “Archie volunteers his time one Saturday every month for a local teen drug program,” Edith said.

  “Really?” Lucy had trouble envisioning Archie with troubled teens, but what did she know? Maybe Neil had difficulties in the past with drugs, and Archie felt like giving back.

  “How about you? Have either of them bothered you?” Michael had mentioned that Archie wanted to expand and buy the Gray sisters’ store. She was curious what they thought about their neighbor.

  “Heavens, no.”

  Edith pursed her lips into a worried frown. “Archie had made us an offer, remember?”

  “Oh, that. Yes, well he’d wanted to see if we were ready to retire. What I told him was we don’t ever plan to retire. We’re going to run this shop when we are in our nineties,” Edna said.

  “How did he take that?” Lucy asked.

  “He never troubled us again,” Edna said. “As for Archie and Harold’s arguing, we stay neutral.”

  “Like Switzerland!” Edith said.

  Maybe Lucy should take the sisters’ advice and st
ay out of it. But the problem was, Lucy didn’t want their petty fighting to ruin the festival. It had already upset Katie and drawn unwanted attention from tourists and locals on the beach.

  Stay neutral. Like Switzerland.

  The sisters’ advice was sound. Too bad Lucy was never good at biting her tongue.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Lucy took a quick break to head to the town hall with a take-out container of Greek salad loaded with feta. She knew feta was Katie’s favorite and she wanted to surprise her friend with lunch.

  The redbrick building was located in the center of town and shared space with the Ocean Crest police station. Lucy knew something was wrong as soon as she opened the front door. Gail Turner, the receptionist, was standing in the hall and wringing her hands. She was in her early fifties, with thin hair the color of coffee grinds that she teased to look fuller. According to Katie, she liked to chatter with the staff.

  “Hi, Gail. What’s wrong?” Lucy asked.

  “Oh, it’s just . . . just that there seems to be some trouble today.” Gail kept glancing down the short hallway, her plucked brows knitting together.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Katie’s voice echoed down the short hall. “I’m sorry your application for a mercantile license was denied. But we have to consider the benefits and detriments to the town. The additional traffic is troublesome, and the town is already short on parking spots during the season. Then there are the dangers of more bicycles and pedestrians on the boardwalk.”

  Then came another voice, male and furious. “I’m not buying any of it.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but the decision is final,” Katie said.

  “Well, it’s a crappy one.”

  Lucy recognized the male voice. Archie Kincaid.

  Lucy didn’t wait. She hurried down the hall, passing other doors, until she came to Katie’s office. Sure enough, Archie was hovering over Katie’s desk. They were both so engrossed in their argument that neither of them noticed Lucy standing in the doorway.

  Katie pushed back her chair and stood. Her face was flushed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kincaid, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  “I don’t believe it. You’re holding a grudge because of what happened on the beach during judging of the sand sculpture contest.”

  “No. The decision was made before the judging.”

  “Something tells me you were the deciding vote on my license.”

  Katie placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not regretting my decision. But if you must know, the mayor had a say.”

  “Then this is prejudice because I’m not a lifetime resident of this small, backward town, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely not. The reasons are stated below.” Katie jabbed a finger at a paper on her desk. “Traffic concerns and the safety of the residents and tourist alike and—”

  “That’s bull.” He pointed to her. “I know you had something to do with this.”

  Doors opened and workers stuck their heads into the hallway. Others stepped out of their cubicles to stare.

  Katie’s professionalism slipped. Lips pursed, she finally lost her temper. “You should leave.”

  “Or what? You’ll shoot me with your husband’s gun?”

  “Don’t tempt me. Out!”

  Lucy jumped to the side to avoid colliding with Archie as he stormed past.

  Katie’s gaze snapped to where Lucy stood in the doorway, and she collapsed in her desk chair. “Hey, Lucy. Sorry you had to witness that.”

  “What was that?”

  “Archie’s mad because the township won’t give him another mercantile license. Is everyone outside gaping?”

  “Yes, but no longer. You did give Gail a fright though.”

  Katie cracked a smile. “Gail’s a sensitive gossip.”

  “What the heck is a ‘sensitive gossip?’”

  “Gail likes to talk, but she also frightens easily. That’s why she works at the town hall and not at the adjacent police station. Both had vacancies when she applied for a job.”

  Lucy shrugged. “It’s a good thing you’re not easily intimidated. You stood up to Archie during the judging, and now this.”

  “He doesn’t scare me. I’m married to a cop, and I watch plenty of TV crime shows.”

  It was true. Katie was obsessed with television murder shows and had the complete set of both Murder, She Wrote and Columbo and watched every spinoff of CSI and Law and Order. Her knowledge had certainly come in handy, and she’d helped Lucy solve more than one town murder.

  Lucy set the take-out container on Katie’s desk. “I bought something to cheer you up. Greek salad for lunch.”

  “Lots of feta?”

  “Of course.”

  Katie opened the take-out lid and peered inside. “You’re the best.”

  Nothing contrasted their different cultural backgrounds as much as food. Lucy grew up eating shish kebab and hummus whereas Katie was raised on meat loaf and apple pie.

  Lucy handed her a plastic fork, knife, and napkin. “What do you think Archie will do?”

  “Get a lawyer and reapply.” Katie speared a piece of salad and feta and stuffed it in her mouth. “Mmm. Your dressing is so good.”

  “Archie actually talked about you shooting him with Bill’s gun,” Lucy said.

  Katie swallowed and set down her fork. “I was livid. Truth be told, if the gun was on my desk, I just may have done it.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The morning of the food and wine tasting event, Lucy rose extra early and took a fast shower. She had already made a run to Cutie’s Cupcakes for blueberry, banana nut, and cranberry muffins and made a pot of coffee when Katie trudged into the kitchen wearing a robe and fuzzy slippers.

  “Eager beaver, this morning,” she commented, seeing breakfast already on deck.

  “I have a ton to do. The tents have to be put up, the Restaurant Supply Depot is delivering refrigerators, freezers, and ovens, and I hired a local electrician, Jose Alvarez, to ensure everything is properly wired.”

  Katie yawned and rubbed her eyes. “When do you think they’ll start serving? I want to be first in line for Azad’s specialties.”

  Lucy handed a mug of coffee and the box of muffins to Katie. She chose a blueberry muffin and slathered it with butter. “By noon, if all goes as planned,” Lucy said. “But don’t let Azad know that he’s first on your list for taste testing. I just told Emma and Sally I thought his ego is too big.”

  Katie chuckled. “Are you growing to like your head chef a bit too much?”

  “He asked me for a date Friday night, dinner at Le Gabriel.”

  Katie’s eyes grew large, and she dropped the muffin on her plate. “Lucky girl! I’ve been dying for Bill to take me to that fancy French place. It’s impossible to get a reservation.”

  “If you don’t tease me about Azad, I promise to bring home a French dessert for you.”

  “Ugh. It will kill me, but dessert just might be worth it. See you later today beneath the bandstand,” Katie said, then headed for the shower.

  Lucy took a last bite of a banana nut muffin, then headed for the boardwalk to set up. One thing legal work had taught her was how to organize. Lucy clutched her clipboard and marched onto the boards like a general ready to organize her troops. She had everything mapped out—where each restaurant would be stationed, where each piece of equipment would go, even where she wanted the temporary porta potties—not too close to the food, of course!

  She was the first to arrive, but not for long. Jose Alvarez, the electrician she’d hired, rushed to greet her. He was close to Lucy’s age, early thirties, and had a full head of dark hair, a swarthy complexion, coffee brown eyes, and a quick smile. He was slim but strong. She’d seen him carry heavy rolls of wire up a ladder during one of her jogs. It was also next to impossible to get a local contractor during the summer months in town, but Jose had a reputation of always showing up promptly and doing good work.

  “I’ll check all
the outlets and the power to make sure the rental equipment doesn’t overload,” Jose said.

  “Thanks. How’s Maria feeling?”

  Jose beamed. “The baby’s due next month.”

  “Already?”

  “She’s complaining of low back pain, but otherwise is okay. She said to thank you for the baklava and that she’ll send you flan.”

  “Yum. Tell her I can’t wait.”

  Jose was originally from the Dominican Republic, but his wife, Maria, whom Lucy had met twice at the restaurant, was of Mexican origin. Maria specialized in teaching braille at a school for the blind in an adjacent town. Lucy had enjoyed chatting with Maria about her grandmother’s recipes.

  Lucy glanced at her clipboard. “The final count is thirty restaurants and vendors.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem,” Jose said. “Oh, and I haven’t forgotten about your ceiling fans for Kebab Kitchen. As soon as I finish work at Seaside Gifts, I’ll call you to schedule.”

  “Seaside Gifts? Archie Kincaid’s store?”

  Jose nodded. “I’m installing a new electrical box for him.”

  “Is he expanding?” The Gray sisters had turned down Archie’s offer, and she knew Harold wouldn’t sell him an inch of space. Had Archie decided to move his store to a bigger location?

  “There’s no room to expand on the boardwalk,” Jose said. “Archie’s just updating. When he purchased the store, he discovered that the electrical system is not up to code. I’ve been rewiring everything, and have to change out his electrical box.” Jose reached for his toolbox. “Where do you want everything set up?”

  Lucy showed Jose where the restaurant equipment would be located, and he promptly went to work. Each two restaurants would share a small, temporary refrigerator and freezer, while the ovens would have to be shared among four restaurants. The ice cream vendor would have its own freezer.

  The morning flew by. The rental tents arrived and were installed, and soon after the rest of the restaurateurs showed up with their food, set up their stations, and were ready to serve. The delicious smells wafted down the boardwalk and made Lucy’s mouth water.