by Tina Kashian
“You think she’s lying?” Katie asked.
“I don’t think so, but we should confirm it. Maybe Marion heard something when they were in her store,” Lucy said. She needed to focus on the investigation, instead of on Azad.
“Good idea. Marion’s opens at nine-thirty. I’ll drive.”
* * *
Two cups of coffee later and one more roll, Katie and Lucy arrived outside the jewelers. Marion Hunt’s store was located in a shopping strip next to Magic’s Pharmacy.
Marion was in the shop arranging gold and silver necklaces on black velvet displays behind a glass case. Tall and heavy-set, she had dyed auburn hair and an abundance of freckles and, unsurprising given her profession, always wore pretty jewelry.
Lucy’s eyes were drawn to the beautiful pieces on display throughout the store. On top of the counter sat tall plastic cases, which could be spun to view earrings in individual boxes. An entire glass case was dedicated to engagement rings, their diamonds gleaming beneath the store’s fluorescent lights.
“Hello, ladies. May I help you find anything in particular?” Marion asked, her charm bracelets jangling as she approached.
Katie pressed her hands on the glass, fascinated by the diamond rings on display. “They’re beautiful.”
“The four C’s. Carat, cut, color, and clarity. I can go over everything if you wish,” Marion said.
“No, thanks. We were wondering if you remembered Rita Sides and Archie Kincaid shopping here.” Lucy said.
Marion tsked. “Rita and Archie? How tragic. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
Katie looked up. “It is sad. Rita told us that they had shopped for engagement rings.”
“They did more than shop. After they left, Archie returned the next day and purchased a ring,” Marion said.
Katie’s gaze returned to the glittering diamonds behind the glass case. “Was it one of these?”
Marion shook her head. “Not exactly.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t mean to gossip about the dead, but it isn’t as if Rita doesn’t know.”
“Know what?” Katie and Lucy asked in unison.
Marion reached for a set of keys behind the counter and unlocked the glass case to remove one of the engagement rings, a lovely pear-shaped diamond with a gold band.
Katie’s eyes widened. “Wow! That’s a big rock.”
“One and a half carats,” Marion confirmed.
“That must have cost an arm and a leg,” Lucy said.
“It sure does. Archie wanted this setting, but not the diamond that went with it,” Marion said.
“You mean he special-ordered one?” Katie asked.
“In a sense. He wanted the setting, but with a cubic zirconia stone.”
Lucy and Katie looked at her in surprise.
“Archie wanted a fake stone? Did Rita know?” Lucy asked.
Marion’s lips thinned. “Not at first. She came back a week later without Archie, and she asked about returning the ring.”
“A week later?” Lucy asked.
“They must have split,” Marion said. “It happens more than you’d like to think. Rita wanted cash for her ring. When I told her how much the ring was worth, she didn’t believe me,” Marion said.
“She must have been shocked,” Katie said.
“And angry,” Lucy added.
Marion nodded. “Both. I refunded her what Archie had paid, and she stormed out of here.”
“Thanks, Marion. You’ve been a big help,” Katie said.
Once they were outside, Lucy whistled. “That’s a bait and switch.”
“Maybe Archie didn’t have the money to buy Rita the diamond she wanted,” Katie said.
“If he didn’t have the cash, then how could he afford to open a second business—a bicycle rental shop to compete with Mr. Citteroni’s store?” Lucy asked.
Katie paused, then leveled her gaze. Maybe all his money was tied up with his business dealings. Either way, it sounds like Rita was mad enough to kill.”
* * *
Lucy’s sneakers pounded on the boardwalk as she jogged. Seagulls squawked and circled above, hoping for a child to miss a trash can with an unfinished hot dog or ice cream cone. It was Monday morning, and she’d risen early and decided to get a bit of exercise and some fresh air before heading back to the restaurant.
Things with Azad were on her mind. She’d managed to avoid him at work yesterday by staying out of the kitchen. She’d had a mountain of paperwork—ordering and payroll—to finish and she’d stayed all day in the tiny office. But she couldn’t hide forever. Katie’s advice came back to her mind.
“You can lure him with honey,” Katie had said.
Lucy’s lips thinned. She wanted to hit him over the head with the honey jar. His possessive words didn’t jibe with this century. How dare he tell her who she can be friends with? Her temper spiked, and she sped up her pace.
Tourists and locals were out and about, some walking and others riding bicycles—their own or those rented from Michael’s bicycle shop. She was glad to see them. It was bad enough that the end-of-summer festival had been canceled after Archie’s murder. But not every tourist had fled Ocean Crest. Granted, it wasn’t as busy as it should be for this time of year, but at least it wasn’t empty. Lucy moved over when she heard the all-too-familiar speakers blare, “Watch the tramcar, please!” The tramcar moved past, half-full of parents, excited children, and crying toddlers.
She jogged by Gray’s Novelty Shop to see Edith Gray putting out a display of sand pails and shovels. Lucy waved in greeting. Neil’s shop was open as well, and a family with two young kids were shopping for T-shirts. She spied several customers in Harold’s shop next door.
By the time she made it halfway down the boardwalk, the morning sun had grown stronger and the temperature had risen. Sweat beaded on her brow and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten breakfast, but had only had a cup of coffee. She’d stop by El Paso, the burrito shop at the end of the boardwalk for a breakfast burrito.
Lucy was lost in thought and didn’t see the raised board. She tripped and turned her ankle. “Ouch!”
Pain seared up her leg. She hobbled to the metal rail and rubbed her throbbing ankle. After several minutes, the pain ebbed, but was still there. Thank goodness, it wasn’t a bad twist. She had experienced a sprained ankle in middle school, and couldn’t put weight on it for a month. She couldn’t manage a restaurant if she had to hobble through the place with crutches or a boot.
Still, she could use some ice. The closest business was Madame Vega’s fortune-telling salon. Making a snap decision, Lucy slowly walked inside, careful not to put too much weight on her ankle.
“Welcome!” Madame Vega said. She was dressed in her customary blue velvet robe with a matching turban and sat behind a round table draped in a scarlet tablecloth. Deep crow’s feet lined her eyes.
The medium had been around as long as Lucy could remember. Lucy had a memory of riding on her father’s shoulders when she was five and glancing inside Madame Vega’s psychic salon. Her crystal ball and cards had captured Lucy’s imagination as well as her trepidation. If nothing, else, Madame Vega put on a good show.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I rolled my ankle. Do you have any ice?”
Madame Vega rose, and opened a small refrigerator in the back of the room. Lucy glimpsed a six-pack of beer. She returned and handed Lucy a zip-lock bag full of ice.
“Thanks,” Lucy said as she applied the ice to her ankle.
“Your fortune?”
Lucy couldn’t be rude. Not after Madame Vega had helped her. Heck, what harm could it do? Lucy unzipped a pocket in her running shorts and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. She pursed her lips in thought. She needed ten for her breakfast burrito. “How about ten?”
“Good enough for the cards.” Madame Vega slipped the twenty into a pocket of her robe, then gave Lucy change.
“You won’t read my pa
lm?”
“No. The spirits sent you to me to have your cards read.”
“I thought they sent me here because I tripped and needed ice.”
Madame Vega pursed her lips as if she was in deep thought. “No. You are troubled.”
Did the woman really think Lucy would buy her act? She rubbed the ice on her ankle. It was starting to feel numb, but thankfully the pain was subsiding. She could sit here for a bit longer and play along.
Madame Vega picked up a stack of cards, turned them upside down, and spread them in a U-shape across the scarlet tablecloth. “Run your hands cross the cards. Put all your hopes, feelings, and desires into the cards.”
A smile curved Lucy’s lips as she touched the cards. “Okay, all my hopes and feelings.”
“No. Not just your hopes and feelings, your desires as well. I traveled with my ancestors as a child, Hungarian gypsies, and we believe the cards will answer your desires as well. What is your question?”
Her question? She wasn’t sure she had one. She hadn’t walked in here with a question in mind.
“Put the cards back in order and hand them to me,” she instructed.
Lucy complied, and her skin tingled as the woman pulled three cards and set them before her.
Madame Vega touched a sapphire in her turban. Judging by the size of the gem, it had to be fake. “The three-card spread signifies your past, present, and future.”
Lucy’s gaze dropped to the cards, and she felt a sudden trickle of anxiety. It’s normal, she told herself. Who wouldn’t want to have their cards read even if they didn’t believe it?
“Now what is your question?” Madame Vega asked again.
“My question?”
“What’s bothering you?”
Lucy pondered the thought. What wasn’t bothering her at the moment? Her fight with Azad was on her mind. In all fairness, maybe she hadn’t handled him that well. In hindsight, it really was ridiculous. For years, her love life had been as dry as dirt and now she had two men in her life. Both were tall, dark-haired, and good-looking. But only one made her heart race. The other was a friend.
Then there was the big question. Who had shot Archie? The end-of-summer festival had been killed along with Archie. Everyone in Ocean Crest would suffer the effects—all the businesses and her friends. The very reputation of the small beach town could be destroyed if they didn’t find the murderer. Worse, would Detective Clemmons keep Katie on the suspect list?
“Is it a love question?” Madame Vega said, drawing Lucy from her musings.
“Partly. I also . . . ah . . . need to find someone.”
“Someone from your past?”
“You could say that.” Archie’s murderer may have been just that—someone she knew.
Madame Vega nodded. “Let us ask the cards.”
“The present card.” Madame Vega flipped over the middle card. “The High Priestess.”
Lucy stared at a colorful picture of a veiled woman sitting on her throne. “What does it mean?”
“There is much more to your situation than meets the eye.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
“Someone is hiding information from you. You seek the facts, but you are being blocked and do not have them all. Secrets surround you. You must use your talents to seek the truth.”
The hair on the back of Lucy’s neck rose. This fortune sounded surprisingly true. Someone was hiding—a murderer. But what talents did she have to unearth him or her? She may have lucked out in the past, but she felt completely out of her element when it came to finding Archie’s killer. She wasn’t even close.
“What about the other cards?” Lucy was suddenly anxious to hear them all. Maybe there was some truth to this tarot stuff after all.
Madame Vega tapped the right card. “This is the card of the future and represents the direction things are going.” She flipped it over to reveal a young man holding a single golden cup with a tiny fish emerging from the cup. “The Page of Cups. News fills your heart with joy and bliss. You have reached a new level in love, but you are still unsure.”
“Unsure? How?”
“The future is tricky. A new love can turn into heaven or hell.”
This was sounding more and more frighteningly close to reality. Her uncertainty in her relationship with Azad could ruin their working relationship. Everything was at risk.
“The card of past,” Madame Vega continued, then flipped over the third card to reveal a young apprentice and two others working in a cathedral. “The Three of Pentacles. Your talents are put to good use, but only because people have helped you along the way. They will continue to do so.”
Lucy thought of Katie. Without her best friend, she wouldn’t have been able to solve any murders and she knew without a doubt that Archie’s killer would go free. Katie’s obsession with crime shows had turned out to be helpful. Bill was Lucy’s newest ally. Others had helped her along the way by supporting her return home and teaching her the business—her parents, Emma and Sally, Michael, and yes, Azad.
She owed them all.
Maybe this tarot card reading was a good thing and something she should do more often. She was starting to believe that Madame Vega really knew her stuff. Lucy glanced at her through lowered lashes and a thought occurred to her.
The woman was a boardwalk fixture. Lucy couldn’t recall a time that she’d jogged or walked by and Madame Vega wasn’t here. Had the medium seen something the day Archie was killed?
Lucy pressed her palms on the table. “May I ask you something? Were you here the day Archie was shot?”
Madame Vega’s hands stilled, and she set the deck of tarot cards down. For a brief instant, her brown eyes sharpened. “I was.”
“Did you happen to see anything suspicious?”
“No. I was busy that day with customers and never left here. I realize now that must have been your question. Remember what the cards said.”
Lucy nodded. “Someone is hiding something. I have a chance at love. People will help me along the way.”
Madame Vega’s lips pursed. “It is never that simple.”
It never was.
“Thanks for the ice. My ankle feels better.” She wouldn’t jog back, but she could put weight on it and walk.
“Come back soon for another reading,” the medium said.
“I will.” She was surprised that she meant it.
Lucy stepped outside and blinked, her eyes adjusting from the darkness of Madame Vega’s salon to the bright morning sunlight. She took a few steps when her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket.
“Hello?”
“Lucy, it’s Michael. My dad can meet you tomorrow night at seven. Are you free?”
Her pulse picked up. Mr. Citteroni was giving her a face-to-face meeting? “Yes.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up. No motorcycle. We’re going to an Italian restaurant. Dress nice.”
* * *
Dinner service was pleasantly busy. Two-thirds of the customers were locals, not tourists, but Lucy was still happy to seat each one. Lucy knew tonight’s specials had something to do with it. Grilled chicken and beef shish kebab were always popular, and Azad and Butch were in the kitchen putting out dish after dish.
Another benefit of a busy service was that Lucy didn’t have to try to avoid Azad. She was busy in the dining room talking with customers and helping Emma and Sally serve the dishes as soon as they came out so that they were hot.
She was in the kitchen and refilling the large coffee urns when she spotted Azad heading into the storage room. Her thoughts returned to her tarot card session with Madame Vega.
The future is tricky. A new love can turn into heaven or hell.
Heaven or hell. She didn’t like the latter. Her past with Azad wasn’t something she could easily forget. He’d broken her heart after college. Since coming home, she’d given him a second chance. Had she made a mistake or was she letting the past dictate her future?
Then there was
Katie’s advice. Lure him with honey.
Maybe she should be the better person. In hindsight, her impromptu motorcycle ride with Michael and their quick embrace and a peck on the cheek could have looked bad from Azad’s point of view.
She also knew Azad wanted her to stay out of any murder business, but she could share some of the truth without fully lying to him. If it would explain her motivation, then it could also put Azad’s mind at ease regarding Michael.
Taking a deep breath, she headed for the storage room to find Azad lifting a heavy bag of bulgur from one of the metal shelves.
“Hey, Azad,” she said.
He turned at the sound her voice. “Lucy.”
She took a deep breath. “I know you’re busy, but I want to clear the air between us. I wasn’t exactly nice the other night and—”
He lowered the bag of bulgur back onto the shelf and came close. “You were right. You have every right to have friends. If you say you and that bike guy are friends, then I should trust you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
The words came easier. “Well, we are just friends. I rode with him to ask if his dad knew anything about Archie.”
Azad’s eyebrows drew downward. “Archie Kincaid? You’re not trying to solve another murder, are you?”
She forced aside any trepidation and looked into his eyes. “It’s not what you think. Bill asked me to ask around. He’s worried Detective Clemmons is treating Katie as a suspect.” It was stretching the truth a bit. Bill had asked her to keep her eyes and ears open at the restaurant. Lucy and Katie may be going a bit further, but they planned on staying safe and informing Bill of what they learned.
Azad was standing close, his coffee eyes staring down at her with an intensity. “Bill asked?”
What was it about him that made her feel like a breathless eighteen-year-old girl?
“That’s right. That’s why I went to see Michael.”
“That’s it? You’re not meddling in the murder more than that, are you?”
“No,” she stammered. “I’m not meddling in the murder. Asking a few questions doesn’t count as fully investigating.”
His expression eased. “Thanks for telling me, Lucy. I had fun with you the other night. How about we do it again soon?”
