One Feta in the Grave

by Tina Kashian

  “That’s enough,” Detective Clemmons finally said. “All leads will be thoroughly investigated.”

  Once again, Lucy didn’t like the way Clemmons’s razorlike gaze traveled from Harold and lingered on Katie.

  Stay out of it, be damned.

  CHAPTER 6

  The next morning, Lucy slipped on a robe and slippers and padded into the kitchen to find Katie reaching for two mugs from the cupboard. Coffee had just finished brewing and there were bagels and cream cheese on the counter.

  Lucy yawned. “Where’s Bill?”

  Katie set the mugs on the counter. “He has the early shift today and left for work.”

  Lucy poured herself a cup of coffee, added a good dose of cream and two heaping teaspoons of sugar, and put a bagel in the toaster oven. “We never had a chance to talk about last night’s meeting.” Things had wrapped up late, and they had both gone straight to bed after arriving home. The events of the previous day all seemed to have happened long ago.

  Katie filled her mug. “What’s there to talk about? Harold acted badly.”

  Lucy lowered her mug and studied her friend for the first time since walking into the kitchen. Katie had bags under her eyes. Her mouth was as pale as her cheeks. She hadn’t slept well, and clearly, she was worried.

  “You’re right. Harold did act badly. First, he tried to point the finger at Rita Sides. I didn’t even know Archie was dating her. Then, when you spoke up on Rita’s behalf, he accused you of murdering Archie.”

  Katie added cream and stirred her mug with a spoon. “That’s because he’s feeling the pressure. We all are. Officially canceling the festival and having a killer roam free is making everyone tense.”

  “Are you worried about what Clemmons will think?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Katie shrugged a shoulder. “I got in a small tiff with Archie over his judging eligibility. It’s hardly a motive for murder.”

  Lucy didn’t believe her for a second. It wasn’t just the judging. Katie had fought with Archie at the town hall over denying him a mercantile license. Katie had to be thinking about that as well.

  As for Clemmons, Lucy wasn’t certain about anything when it came to him. Katie had once told her that the detective was simple-minded and would go after the easiest lead, even though it may not be the right one. Plus, he had reason to dislike Lucy and her family.

  What better way to get to her than through her best friend?

  “I hate to bring this up,” Lucy said, “but what about what happened at your work? When I showed up with that Greek salad, you and Archie weren’t in a good place.”

  Katie grimaced, then set her mug on the Formica counter. “Bill and Clemmons work together. Clemmons knows better than to go after me without concrete evidence and he doesn’t have any. I was doing my job. Even the mayor was adamantly against approving Archie’s mercantile license. My disagreement with Archie isn’t enough of a motive to shoot a man.”

  That reassured Lucy a bit. “You’re right.”

  Katie collected her purse and headed for the door. “I have to leave for work. If all goes well, the police will find the guilty person soon.”

  “Do you have that much faith in Clemmons?” Lucy asked.

  “No. I have faith in Bill.”

  It was the first time Katie didn’t ask to start investigating on their own. Lucy couldn’t help but think about it. If Detective Clemmons put Katie on the suspect list, then Bill would most likely be dismissed from the case for a conflict of interest. He may already have been. Katie was on the beach the same time as Lucy. Katie had seen the body before the police had arrived. Wasn’t that sufficient to create a conflict?

  After cleaning the kitchen, Lucy dressed in her running shorts and T-shirt and stepped onto the porch to lock the front door when her cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Lucy, it’s Bill. Are you free to meet at Lola’s Coffee Shop? I need to talk with you.”

  Lucy’s prior unease returned. Bill never called her unless it was important. And didn’t Katie say he was working the morning shift? Why meet with her, especially when the police should be busy searching for a murderer?

  “Sure. I can meet now. Is something wrong?” Maybe she was making more out of it than she should. Was it Katie and Bill’s wedding anniversary, and she’d forgotten? Or even Katie’s birthday? Her thoughts chugged along. No, they were married in October, and Katie’s birthday was in December.

  “I can’t talk right now. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop in fifteen.” Bill hung up.

  Lucy stared at her cell phone. What was going on?

  She shoved her cell phone into her purse, fished out her keys, and drove to Lola’s. The coffee shop was busy this morning and there was a line of customers eagerly waiting for their morning dose of caffeine. Lola Stewart, working behind the counter, reached for a mug at the top of a tower of chunky white mugs. Tucking an errant, gray curl into her bun, she filled the mug with coffee and placed it on the counter along with a poppy-seed muffin from the refrigerated case.

  Lucy scanned the coffee shop looking for Bill and spotted him sitting at a wire-backed chair in the corner and reading a newspaper. He looked up from the paper, spotted her, and waved.

  He stood and pulled out a chair for her. “Thanks for coming.” He was drinking a latte and Lucy inhaled the rich scent. She could use a cappuccino.

  She rested her hands on the table. “I’m curious. It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, but you’ve never asked me to meet you for coffee at Lola’s before.”

  “I thought it best if we talked out of the house.”

  “You mean away from Katie.”

  His mouth twisted grimly. “Yes.”

  “You’re worried about how Katie looks after Archie’s murder, aren’t you?”

  “I won’t lie. There’s something you need to know. I haven’t seen eye to eye with Calvin Clemmons lately.”

  That makes two of us, she thought.

  “I applied for a position as detective. I learned that Calvin put in less than a shining recommendation for me. Our police chief overrode him and put my name in for the position anyway.”

  “That wasn’t very nice of Clemmons.” Bill was an excellent beat cop with a solid reputation in town and with the locals.

  “Clemmons feels threatened that I’ll take his position,” Bill said, answering the question that was on her mind. “He shouldn’t be worried. There’s room in the budget for two detectives. Especially with the rise in crime.”

  “I’ve always believed Clemmons is shortsighted.”

  “I’m concerned about how he’ll treat Katie.”

  She chewed on her lower lip as she looked at him. “You think he’ll consider her a serious suspect?”

  “It’s possible.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Katie was on the beach and at the scene of the crime before the police arrived. As a result, I was removed from the case due to a conflict and no longer have access to the files, but I know the way Clemmons works.”

  “I was worried about a conflict. Katie and I talked about it this morning,” Lucy admitted.

  “You did?”

  Lucy nodded. “I guessed they’d have to replace you with another officer.”

  “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but will you keep your eyes and ears open at the restaurant? You must hear all types of interesting gossip. You can talk with customers without arousing their suspicion.”

  Lucy had already been thinking about investigating on her own. Katie was her best friend, and she’d do anything to help her. Then there was the beach festival itself. The event was important for the town. How could she sit back and not help?

  “I know what you’re thinking. You may have gotten lucky in the past, but I don’t want you to do anything risky. I’m not pinning a badge to your chest. Just listen and maybe ask your customers a few questions. Nothing else. Report everything you learn to me, okay?”

  If this wo
uld help both Bill and Katie, she’d do it. “You got it. Just listen and ask a few questions. Nothing else, I promise.”

  * * *

  “Where’s the rest of the hummus? The hummus bar is missing bins of jalapeño and sweet basil!” Sally said.

  “Did you check the walk-in refrigerator?” Emma asked.

  Lucy hurried from the waitress station where she’d been checking the fresh brewed iced tea machine to where Sally and Emma stood by the hummus bar. “Azad made them fresh this morning. I saw him.”

  Emma scratched her head. “Maybe he forgot to make enough?”

  “Azad forget? I doubt it.” He was a professional chef and took his duties seriously. In that respect, he reminded her a lot of her mother. Angela could be like a female Napoleon—a short and disciplined general—in the kitchen. Everything had to be up to her strict standards and prepared on time.

  She hurried to the kitchen to find Azad stirring a large pot. “Hey, Lucy.”

  “Where’s the hummus you made this morning?”

  “In the fridge. Why?”

  “Sally can’t find it and her customers are asking for it.”

  He shrugged. “I put it on the top shelf. Maybe she just didn’t see it.”

  She shot him a doubtful look. Sally was tall and thin, and if anyone other than Azad could spot the bins, it would be Sally. “You sure?”

  He winked at her and sent her stomach in a wild swirl. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He set his large spoon on the counter, turned the heat down on the pot, and motioned for her to follow.

  He opened the door to the walk-in refrigerator and switched on the fluorescent light. A blast of cool air hit her face. The refrigerator was larger than her parents’ office, which was tucked in the corner of the storage room. Stainless-steel shelves held everything from meat and seafood to bread pudding. For safety reasons, the door didn’t lock, and staff could carry armfuls of items and push open the heavily insulated door with a foot or shoulder and leave.

  “The hummus is right here. See?” Azad reached for a bin and the muscles in his arm flexed. Good God. Did his every move have to remind her of his attractiveness?

  He took one bin of hummus and handed her the other. His gaze met hers, and he grinned. “Remember the other time we were locked in here?”

  She did. The door had been jammed closed, and he’d held her to ward off the chill. He’d also come close to kissing her. Despite the cold, her skin sizzled from vivid memory.

  “Azad, I—”

  “Too bad I have something on the stove or I’d ask for a repeat,” he said.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “You haven’t forgotten about our date? It’s darned hard to get a reservation at Le Gabriel.”

  She’d wondered about that herself. From what she’d heard, you needed to book a month in advance. Had he thought that far back about asking her to dinner?

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’m looking forward to dessert even more than the main course,” she said.

  His eyes darkened, and she realized just what she’d said. Her face heated. The charming, eager affection had set her off balance. “I didn’t mean it that way. The French pastry chef is supposed to be superb, and I promised Katie I’d bring home dessert and—”

  “Relax. I get it.” He handed her the hummus bin he’d been holding. “You better go out there before Emma or Sally come looking for you.”

  He was always calm and collected. She was certain her face was beet-red by now. Pushing open the refrigerator door, she hurried into the dining room. “Crisis averted,” she said as soon as she spotted Sally.

  Sally exhaled in relief and took the bins from her and placed them in the hummus bar. “By the way, Katie’s here. I sat her at table seven. She’s already started with the hummus, and I gave her a basket of pita bread.”

  “Thanks.” Lucy sidled over to Katie’s table. Despite the morning caffeine, her friend still had bags under her eyes, and Lucy started to worry.

  Katie lowered a piece of pita bread to a small plate and swallowed. “It’s my lunch hour. What do you recommend?”

  “The dolma—stuffed tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “You look worried. What’s wrong?” Lucy asked.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “We’ve been best friends since first grade. Tell me.”

  Katie toyed with her napkin, twisting it this way and that. “Detective Clemmons came to the town hall today to ask me more questions.”

  A warning voice whispered in Lucy’s head, but she kept her voice level. “You have nothing to hide. You were right. A small argument over judging a sand sculpture contest is not sufficient motive for murder. Even Clemmons has to acknowledge that.”

  Katie glanced at her plate. “We both know that’s not all.”

  “Clemmons questioned your coworkers?”

  Katie sipped a glass of ice water. “He happened to question the worst person first—Gail Turner.”

  Lucy knew where this was heading. “She told him about the screaming match I had with Archie over denying his mercantile license. It didn’t help that I’d all but told Archie that it wouldn’t be a bad idea if I borrowed Bill’s gun and shot him.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I tried to explain. The mayor didn’t think it was a good idea to give Archie a green light to open another business after Harold complained that Archie had dropped his prices below cost just to put his competition out of business. Archie hadn’t been in town that long either, and he thought he needed to wait before opening another store. I agreed. We had no choice but to deny Archie’s application.”

  “Who else did Clemmons interview?” Lucy asked.

  “The rest of the staff. Almost everyone was in that day and heard the argument, not just Gail. I didn’t expect any of my coworkers to lie for me.”

  “In my mind, I still don’t believe it’s enough motive,” Lucy said.

  “Maybe in yours, but not in the detective’s. Bill is worried, too. I could tell when I called him to fill him in.”

  Bill had already been concerned when he’d met Lucy at the coffee shop this morning. She could just imagine what he was thinking now. First, Clemmons had a reason to dislike Bill for seeking a promotion to detective. Then, Clemmons had learned there was more bad blood between Katie and Archie than a sand sculpture contest gone awry. A mercantile license was serious business.

  A nagging in the back of her mind refused to be stilled. She’d promised Bill that she would only listen and ask a few questions. But that was before. The stakes were higher now. “I think it’s time we got involved,” Lucy said.

  “I was hoping you would say that.” Katie started rummaging through her purse.

  “I have it.” Lucy pulled a pen and waitress pad from her back pocket. She always needed one in case she had to quickly fill in for Emma and Sally and take a customer’s order. Not that they’d be busy for long. Once the tourists learned there was a murderer crawling the beach, business would come to a screeching halt.

  “We need to make a list of suspects,” Katie said.

  “Harold Harper is the most obvious.” Lucy scribbled his name down. “What about Rita Sides? I had no idea Archie was dating anyone.”

  “I was just as surprised,” Katie said. “I saw Rita when I went to The Big Tease Salon for a haircut, but the owner, Beatrice, cut my hair. Rita was tweezing Mrs. Patel’s eyebrows.”

  “We’ll have to talk to Rita.” Lucy added her name to the list.

  Katie picked up her fork, then set it down. “What about Neil Kincaid?”

  Lucy looked up and tapped her pen on the table. “Archie’s nephew? What motive would he have?”

  “Money. Before Bill was removed from the case, I overheard him talking on the phone. Neil gets the boardwalk business, Seaside Gifts. For a twenty-something who hasn’t worked a full day in his life, I’d call that motive.”

  “He was on the boardwalk yesterday. I saw him st
anding at the back of the bandstand with Archie when you announced the winning sand artist and gave away a five-thousand-dollar check,” Lucy said.

  “The scores were pretty close. If Archie stayed on as a judge, the winner might have been different. What if Neil was counting on that cash and he blamed his uncle for his loss?”

  Lucy thought back. “Could be. Neil didn’t look happy.”

  Katie pursed her lips. “The question is: Did he look unhappy enough to kill?”

  CHAPTER 7

  The following afternoon, Gadoo’s purring drew Lucy’s attention as soon as she stepped outside of Kebab Kitchen’s storage room. She shook the bag of cat treats and the orange and black cat’s yellow gaze zeroed in on the bag. “Hi, Gadoo. I have your favorite chicken-flavored treats from Holloway’s.”

  The cat meowed in approval as Lucy poured a handful of the chicken-leg-shaped treats in her palm and offered them. Gadoo came close to eat from her hand.

  “I’ve been thinking, Gadoo. How would you like to come live with me when I find my own apartment?”

  He answered with a swish of his tail and kept eating.

  “Katie won’t be happy. Bill either. But it may be time soon. What do you think?”

  Gadoo lifted his head and blinked, his yellow eyes sharpening.

  “I know. I know. Mom won’t be pleased to have you leave either. You’re part of the family, like it or not.”

  More purring.

  She sighed and stood. “All gone. No more treats for today or you’ll get fat.”

  Gadoo didn’t like that remark, and he showed it by twitching his tail and sauntering off to disappear behind the Dumpster.

  She opened the storage room door, set the treats on the nearest metal shelf, then stepped back outside. Then she started to jog the mile trek to the boardwalk. Each day she jogged it was getting a bit easier, but she doubted she’d ever be a marathon runner. It was in between the lunch and dinner shifts and her father and Azad were working so that Lucy could get a break before the dinner rush.

  She ran by Michael’s bicycle rental shop. He was outside adjusting the seat of a bicycle for a tween. The parents and older siblings had their own bicycles ready to ride. She passed the Sandpiper Bed and Breakfast. The blinking neon vacancy sign was unusual for this time of year. Had tourists already checked out after hearing about the murder?