One Feta in the Grave

by Tina Kashian

  The streets around the church were packed with cars, and a black hearse was parked directly in front of the church. A bright, orange flag imprinted with FUNERAL was attached to the rear-view window and waved in a slight ocean breeze.

  The last funeral Lucy had attended was for her grandmother. It had been in the dead of winter, and she’d stood shivering at the gravesite as the casket had been lowered into the snow-covered ground. She’d cried and had come down with a cold the next day. It was a miserable experience.

  She’d hated funerals ever since.

  A closed casket, surrounded by arrangements of fresh flowers, was in the front of the church. Lucy and Katie sat closer to the back of the church and listened to the organ music as more and more people shuffled inside and filled the pews. Lucy wasn’t surprised to see that the church quickly filled. Ocean Crest was a close-knit town and when one of their own passed, many mourners would show up and pay their respects. Even though Archie had only been an Ocean Crest resident for a little over a year, he was a boardwalk businessman and considered a local.

  Lucy spotted Mayor Huckerby in the front pew. Directly behind him was Ben Hawkins. Ben tapped him on the shoulder and Thomas turned and they exchanged words.

  Interesting.

  She wondered what kind of relationship the current mayor and the man running for his political position shared.

  Rita Sides was also in the front row. Dressed in a form-fitting black dress, her blond hair contrasted with her dark outfit. She sat with Beatrice Tretola and several others ladies from The Big Tease Salon.

  Beatrice passed Rita a tissue and Rita blew her nose. She wasn’t sporting an engagement ring, and once again, Lucy wondered at Rita’s reaction when she’d learned the diamond Archie had given her was not real, but a fake, cubic zirconia stone. Still, Rita appeared pretty broken up about Archie’s death, and a lump rose in Lucy’s throat.

  “I really hate funerals,” Lucy whispered to Katie. “They remind me of my grandmother’s.”

  Katie reached into her purse and pulled out a travel pack of tissues. “I brought these just in case. I don’t like them either. My nana died before I married Bill, and I cried like a baby.”

  A rustle behind them drew their attention to the door. Neil entered the church with a woman on his arm. He must have borrowed a suit because the jacket and pants were too big for his tall, lanky frame, but he’d shaved and smoothed his long hair and tied it in a ponytail. He looked somewhat presentable.

  But it was the woman he was escorting that captured Lucy’s interest. Dressed in a tight-fitting black pants suit and stilettos, her mahogany hair was styled in an elegant chiffon. She was older, probably in her late fifties, but her makeup was expertly applied. She sported a large diamond and sparkly, matching band. As they walked by, her perfume wafted to Lucy. A crisp citrus scent that probably cost over a hundred dollars an ounce.

  “Who’s that?” Katie asked.

  “I’ve never seen her before. Maybe she’s Neil’s mother.”

  They watched as Neil escorted the woman to the front pew. Rita shot her a questioning look, then turned to whisper in Beatrice’s ear. Beatrice shrugged, and Lucy suspected they were just as clueless as to the woman’s identity.

  “Look who else is here,” Katie said, pointing to the left side of the sanctuary.

  Detective Clemmons sat with three other Ocean Crest officers. As if he knew they were talking about him, Clemmons turned and caught Lucy’s gaze. His lips curled in what could only be described as a smirk, and he turned away.

  “Clemmons really doesn’t like me,” Lucy said.

  “Don’t worry about him. Bill says that he doesn’t like anyone. But he’s not the one I was pointing to. Harold is here.”

  “Harold? Where?” Lucy spotted him sitting two rows behind the police officers. His reddish hair and square chin were unmistakable. “I can’t believe he’s here. He hated Archie.”

  “Maybe he’s here for show. And if Harold did kill Archie, then he’d draw attention to himself by not coming to the funeral.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure, but her thoughts were interrupted when the organist began playing and a black-robed priest took to the podium. Everyone obediently stood and joined in a prayer and hymn.

  “Receive the Lord’s blessing. May the Lord bless you and watch over you.”

  Lucy’s gaze was drawn to the closed coffin, then back to the mourners. The priest continued speaking, but the words were a distant murmur as her gaze kept returning to the coffin.

  Questions arose in her mind. Was the murderer in the church? Could he or she be hiding in plain view? Chances were the killer was someone they all knew—someone who had a strong enough motive to want Archie dead.

  Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows. The church’s air-conditioning struggled to keep up with the packed room, and mourners fanned themselves with funeral programs about Archie’s life.

  Her thoughts continued to churn as the priest droned on and on.

  Everything changed when Neil stood and went to the podium. He tapped the mic, causing a burst of static. Once again, she thought his borrowed suit and ponytail were a big improvement over his normal beach attire and mussed, shoulder-length hair.

  Neil cleared his throat. “My uncle was a great man. He helped me and volunteered at the local teenage drug shelter.”

  Lucy wondered if that was where he’d found Neil. So far, his speech wasn’t half bad.

  “Even though he’s gone, he still took care of me and left me his shop. I’ll always be grateful.” Neil turned to look at the woman he’d escorted into the church. “But I’m not the only one who is feeling his loss. He also left behind my aunt, his wife.”

  His wife? Silence descended in the sanctuary.

  “What’s he talking about?” Lucy whispered.

  Katie shrugged. “No clue.”

  “My aunt would like to say a few words,” Neil said.

  Everyone watched, riveted, as the polished, dark-haired woman climbed the steps to the podium. She reached up to lower the microphone and a glint of sunlight from the overhead stained-glass window reflected off her bloodred painted nails. “I’m Kristin Kincaid, Archie’s wife.”

  A loud gasp sounded from the front row. Beatrice and the salon ladies began to vigorously fan Rita with their programs.

  Did Rita know about Kristin? Judging from her waxy complexion, it didn’t look like it. Or was Rita putting on her own show?

  Kristin cleared her throat. “Many of you expect me to say Archie was a good husband. He wasn’t. We had our difficulties, just like many married couples. But the saying ‘opposites attract’ is true, and we were drawn together from the first moment we met. He was also supportive. I took a job as an editor in New York City for a fashion magazine, and he encouraged my decision, even though he knew we would be apart for long periods of time. Sadly, I never had the opportunity to visit my husband in Ocean Crest . . . until today. He understood my ambitions just as I understood his. He made the effort to visit me once a month for years. He was loyal.”

  Loyal? Did Kristin know about Archie’s mistress sitting a few feet away in the front pew?

  “Archie also looked after my nephew, Neil.” Kristin looked at Neil and he nodded.

  “I just have one more thing to say,” Kristin continued. “To whoever shot my husband”—her laserlike gaze roved the pews—“what goes around comes around.” She ended her speech with that remark and stepped down from the podium.

  Silence reigned once again. Lucy’s thoughts raced as she grasped the meaning behind Kristin’s words.

  Organ music resumed, ending the awkwardness, as the funeral came to a close. One by one, mourners shuffled out of the church. A reception had been set up in the church hall, and most people would head straight there.

  “That was unexpected,” Katie said.

  “More like shocking.”

  Katie chuckled. “You’re right. No one in town knew Archie was married. Most of all, Rita.”

/>   “I want to talk to Rita,” Lucy said.

  “Now?”

  “This may be the perfect time,” Lucy whispered. “She’s emotional, and she might say something she wouldn’t otherwise. It doesn’t look like she knew Archie had a wife, but she could be acting. Maybe Archie had promised Rita he’d divorce Kristin but lied. It’s motive for murder.”

  Katie rubbed her chin with a forefinger. “You’re right. Maybe that’s why Archie purchased a fake diamond in the engagement ring. He wanted to pacify Rita, but had no intention of leaving Kristin.”

  Together, they watched as Neil escorted Kristin out of the church. They hung back and waited until Beatrice and the salon ladies, with Rita nestled between them, headed out.

  “Rita!” Lucy called out.

  Beatrice turned. “Hi, Lucy. Rita’s not feeling that well. I’m afraid we’re going to have to miss the reception and take her home.”

  “I just wanted to ask her a question,” Lucy said.

  “Come by the salon, hon,” Beatrice said as she ushered Rita out of the church and into the parking lot.

  “Did you see Rita’s face?” Katie said. “She’s pale as a ghost. I don’t think she’s acting.”

  Lucy craned to see outside the church. Beatrice opened a car door, and Rita slid inside. “What if she knew Archie was married, but she never met Kristin? It could still be a shock to see her face-to-face.”

  “But how can we find out?”

  “I need to make another trip to the salon,” Lucy said.

  “A manicure?”

  “I wish it was that easy. Rita does waxing.”

  Katie smirked. “Better you than me.”

  * * *

  The air-conditioning in the church hall was working better than in the sanctuary. The guests breathed an audible sigh of relief as soon as they stepped inside. Everyone in town wanted to meet Kristin. Lucy and Katie watched as people waited in line to expresses their condolences and speak with Archie’s widow. Gossip was valued in Ocean Crest and the funeral did not disappoint.

  Two ladies from the town council, Gertrude Shaw and Francesca Stevens, were standing in line and whispering behind hands as they shifted from side to side to get a better look at Archie’s wife. Both women were notorious gossips.

  “Kristin doesn’t seem like Archie’s type,” Katie said.

  “You mean she’s too sophisticated? She said she works for a New York fashion magazine. It explains the clothes, hair, and makeup,” Lucy said. “Maybe what she said about opposites attracting is true. I know couples like this. The heart wants what it wants.”

  “Maybe, but Bill always says spouses are usually at the top of the suspect list. It’s the same in all the TV crime shows,” Katie murmured.

  Katie was on a kick of Hawaii Five-O episodes and Matlock reruns. Katie had liked detective shows for as far back as Lucy could recall, and Lucy had suspected it was one of the reasons her friend had been attracted to Bill in high school after he’d announced he was attending the police academy.

  “Kristin couldn’t have killed Archie. She said today was the first time she’d visited Ocean Crest. Archie had traveled to see her in New York, not the other way around,” Lucy said.

  “Detective Clemmons should interview her to verify her story and to see if she knows anything,” Katie said.

  Lucy scanned the crowd. Detective Clemmons was at the end of the buffet line, adding food to his heaping plate. “Could he be less interested in solving the case?” Lucy asked.

  “He can’t question Kristin here with all these people present. Plus, it’s her husband’s funeral. Clemmons should interview Kristin later.”

  “We can only hope,” Lucy said. But she didn’t have much faith in the town’s sole investigator.

  “There’s no sense standing in line now. Let’s get some food, then come back when the line to meet Kristin dies down,” Katie suggested.

  The funeral was catered by a seafood restaurant just outside of town, the Crab House, which had a reputation for fresh seafood. They headed for the buffet table and filled their plates with herb-stuffed oysters, mini crab quiche, and berry tarts for dessert. Unlike most buffet food that was underseasoned and plain, the crab quiche was tasty, the oysters expertly prepared, and the tart was surprisingly flavorful.

  The line for Kristin was still long, so they headed for the bar and ordered glasses of Chardonnay.

  “That was a surprise,” a man said to Lucy’s right.

  “All that time and I didn’t know Archie was married,” a second male voice added.

  Lucy recognized the voices and turned to see Mayor Huckerby, speaking with Ben.

  Lucy stepped forward and caught the mayor’s eye. “Well, hello there, Lucy. Hello, Katie,” Huckerby said.

  “Hi, Mayor. Mr. Hawkins,” Lucy said.

  “The buffet is good, but it’s not as tasty as Kebab Kitchen’s shish kebab,” the mayor said, then winked.

  Lucy smiled. The mayor’s charm was one of the reasons he’d been elected. Even her parents liked him, and Angela and Raffi could spot a phony person a mile away.

  “I hear Mr. Hawkins is running for your position. No hard feelings between you two?” Lucy asked.

  “None. I want to retire and fish.” The mayor slapped Ben on the back. “Ben’s a hardworking businessman, and a lifelong resident of Ocean Crest. He’s a perfect replacement for mayor.”

  “I’ll have to work hard to fill his shoes,” Ben said.

  “Who will run our barber shop?” Katie asked.

  “The shop will stay open. I plan to hire help and fill in as much as I can,” Ben said.

  “I’m sorry to bring this up, but can you reconsider resuming the festival? We feel it should still go on,” Katie said.

  “With a murderer on the loose?” Huckerby said. “As mayor I must take our townsfolk’s safety and that of our visitors into consideration and listen to our detective’s recommendations. I’m sorry, but the festival is on hold.”

  “I agree with the mayor as well,” Ben said.

  Lucy’s gaze shifted to Ben’s. He was in his early forties, with a lightly pockmarked face, bushy eyebrows, and thinning brown hair.

  Mr. Citteroni’s words came back to her regarding the barber. Politics is a dirty business.

  Was Ben corrupt? He didn’t seem to have a rivalry with the current mayor. Rather, they appeared to be amicable, even good friends.

  So what could Archie have had on the barber?

  “We were just on our way to meet Mrs. Kincaid and express our condolences,” Lucy said.

  “You better get in line before she tires and leaves,” Huckerby said.

  After finishing their food, Lucy and Katie set their plates down and stood in line. Lucy watched Kristin as she met person after person and accepted condolences. The widow wasn’t crying. Not a smudge marred her expertly applied makeup. Still, she could be in shock. Funerals were difficult and Kristin was surrounded by strangers. It wasn’t a far stretch to believe she’d grieve in private.

  At last it was their turn, and Lucy and Katie approached Kristin. “I’m Lucy Berberian and this is Katie Watson. We knew your husband. We’re sorry for your loss, Mrs. Kincaid.”

  Kristin’s handshake was weak. “Thank you. I miss Archie very much.”

  “To be honest, we didn’t know he was married. I don’t think anyone in town knew,” Katie said.

  “Archie was a quiet man.”

  Quiet? Lucy’s mind turned back to the sand sculpture contest. Archie had nearly gotten into fisticuffs with Harold and then Katie.

  “Funny, but we don’t remember him that way,” Lucy said. She struggled with how best to describe him without insulting his widow. “He was very . . . very animated.”

  “Oh? Well, you didn’t know him as well as I did.” A haughty look crossed Kristin’s face.

  Lucy’s opinion changed. Definitely not grieving.

  “How long were you married?” Katie asked.

  “Three years.”

&nb
sp; “And you were in New York the entire time?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes. Like I said at the funeral, we saw each other one weekend a month. Archie always traveled to see me.”

  “When was the last weekend you saw him?” Lucy asked.

  “A full month ago.”

  “You weren’t in Ocean Crest the weekend of the festival?” Lucy asked, hoping to get her to admit to something.

  “No. Today is the first time I’ve ever set foot in this little ocean town.” Annoyance streaked across her face. “Why all the questions? There’s an Ocean Crest detective right over there.” Her gaze darted to where Clemmons stood and continued to stuff his face with food. “If anyone is going to ask me so many questions, I’d expect it to be him. Now if you will excuse me, there are other people here who want to express their condolences.”

  It was clear they’d been dismissed. Lucy waited until they were out of earshot before whistling through her teeth. “She’s a nasty one.”

  “We probably shouldn’t judge her too harshly. We rubbed her the wrong way by asking her all those questions. Besides, if her story checks out and she wasn’t in town when Archie was shot, then she couldn’t have killed him,” Katie said.

  Another dead end.

  Lucy’s gaze shifted to Ben. He was talking with the mayor and laughing. Why had Mr. Citteroni warned her about him? The mobster never did anything without a purpose. What was she missing?

  They needed to find out. If Archie had been blackmailing Ben with something . . . something that could ruin his political aspirations, then it could be motive for murder.

  Neil crossed the room to stand beside Kristin.

  “They look friendly,” Katie said. “He must have known about her. He lived with Archie.”

  “I wonder if Neil is unhappy with Kristin back in the picture.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s the new owner of Seaside Gifts. Don’t you think the business should go to Kristin as Archie’s wife?” Lucy asked.

  “The business has to be worth a good chunk of change,” Katie said.

  “But it’s not liquid cash.” Lucy knew this firsthand. Kebab Kitchen was worth a sizeable amount of money when you added up the real estate, the building, and the equipment, but none of it was liquid, and her parents lived modestly and within their means.