by Tina Kashian
Angela pointed a trembling finger toward the van. “You don’t understand. That’s Stan Slade. He used to work at a fancy New York City paper, but came here a couple years ago. He loves town gossip and is always looking for a good story. There hasn’t been a murder in Ocean Crest in the forty years we’ve lived here. If he prints anything bad about the restaurant, we’ll be ruined!”
Lucy resisted the urge to cover her ears at her mother’s screeching. “Let me handle Mr. Slade, Mom.” She didn’t want to put her parents through even more stress. If what they said was true and the reporter was hungry for a story, it was better for her to deal with him. Her parents often slipped back into an incomprehensible and confusing mixture of Armenian, Greek, Arabic, and English when they became nervous. The reporter could easily misinterpret anything they said.
Lucy didn’t have much experience with reporters, but she did have years of dealing with adversarial attorneys. How different could it be?
CHAPTER 8
Lucy met the reporter outside the front door of the restaurant. “May I help you?”
“Stan Slade of the Town News,” the reporter said in a brusque, nasally voice. A middle-aged man with black-rimmed glasses, he had a stocky, muscular build and a head that appeared to rest directly on his broad shoulders.
“I take it you’re not here to eat?” Lucy asked.
“Not today. I want an interview, Lucy Berberian.” Slade pulled out a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket.
Lucy blinked. “You know my name?”
“It’s my job to know whom I plan to feature. And this isn’t a large town.” He shot her a smug look. “Not until tourist season, that is. A murder in Ocean Crest is big news.”
Lucy bristled at his tone. “It wasn’t a murder. The police haven’t officially announced a cause of death.”
Slade snorted and clicked his pen. “Not yet, they haven’t. But I have a source that tells me it’s just a matter of time before the police go on record and call it a suspicious death. And we all know Heather Banks croaked immediately after she ate at Kebab Kitchen.”
So much for handling adversarial attorneys. Lucy didn’t have luck with Detective Clemmons, and she had a bad feeling her success wasn’t going to be much better with Stan Slade. Still, it was better than if her parents were subjected to his brash manner.
“The truth will be proven once the toxicology results are in.” Lucy didn’t add that it could take weeks for the tox results, or that the tourist season would be underway by then.
“You served Ms. Banks the night she died, right? I want an exclusive interview with you,” Slade said.
No way was she sitting down and subjecting herself to questioning by the slick reporter. He’d twist her words and print anything to sell papers. “There’s nothing I can tell you that you won’t learn from an official police statement.”
“Is that a no?” he asked.
“Look. I just ate here and I feel fine,” Lucy pointed out.
“Good for you. Is that really what you want me to print?” Stan’s lips twisted into a cynical smile.
“No. I would hope you would print the truth.”
“The truth is subject to interpretation, Ms. Berberian.”
This was turning out bad. Lucy realized how damaging his article could be. HEALTH INSPECTOR DIES AFTER EATING AT KEBAB KITCHEN. RESTAURANT REFUSES INTERVIEW.
“Tourist season is only three weeks away. What do you have for me?”
Lucy met his beady eyes straight on. “Nothing.” She needed to follow up and speak with Guido Morelli. She needed leads and fast from the hungry look on the reporter’s face. The restaurant was already suffering. What would happen after Slade’s article came out? “But I suggest you wait before printing anything damaging to the restaurant. You wouldn’t want a lawsuit for libel against the paper, would you?”
It wasn’t a real threat, but it was all Lucy had. The paper could go to print with what they believed to be true from the facts and Lucy couldn’t do much to stop it.
Slade’s brow furrowed above the rim of his glasses. Clearly he was thinking of the pros and cons of her question. “Fine. Tell you what—I want an exclusive from you in exchange for waiting a few days. But once the police issue an official statement, all bets are off and I go to print.”
“Is that blackmail?”
“No. It’s the news business.”
* * *
“That didn’t go well, did it?”
Back inside, Lucy turned to see Sally approach. Tall and slim, she set a stack of trays on the waitress station. She’d wiped down the trays and they would later be used to deliver drinks and food.
“Am I that obvious?”
“No, I’ve been waiting tables a long time and I have a sixth sense about people. Plus, I’ve heard all kinds of stories about the lead reporter of the Town News.”
Lucy grimaced. “I take it they’re not all flattering.”
“Mostly that he can be aggressive and obnoxious. Do you remember Beatrice Snyder?”
“The head librarian in town?” Lucy recalled taking Niari to the library for story time when she was a toddler. Beatrice had run the program. She was a kind lady who’d never married, loved the local children, and had worked at the library for years.
“Beatrice packed up and moved after Stan Slade printed a story saying she misappropriated funds from the library’s overdue fines account. It was never proved to be true, but she quit and left in shame to live with family in Pennsylvania.”
“That’s awful.” Lucy’s heart hammered. If Slade could print an article and run a kind spinster and longtime librarian out of town, what could he do to her and her family?
Lucy helped Sally arrange the trays in stacks. “You’ve been with my parents a long time. How hard are they taking everything?”
Sally had worked there for years and knew her parents well. She was also observant. She hesitated as if contemplating whether to tell the truth or not, then nodded. “Your parents tend to worry. Especially your father.”
“I thought my mom would take it harder.”
“Nah. She’s more vocal, but your dad handles the finances, and he tends to brood in his office.” Sally picked up a waitress pad from the counter and tucked it into her apron.
Lucy worried her bottom lip. “I’m concerned about them.”
“What about you?”
Lucy blinked. “Me?”
“You’re under a lot of pressure. I know they asked you to find out who killed that nasty health inspector. How are you handling everything?”
“I’m managing.” Lucy was managing, just not fast enough. Slade’s appearance hadn’t helped.
Sally propped a hand on her hip and regarded her. “You take care of yourself, Lucy. I’m glad you’re back and it’s not just because Millie left to have another baby and we’re short staffed. If you ever need to talk, I’m always around.”
“Thanks,” Lucy said.
Sally winked. “I mean it. You may have been away for a while, but you have friends here, and you can always talk to me in confidence.”
Lucy swallowed as Sally returned to the kitchen. She hadn’t expected Sally to offer reassurance and friendship. She was the only female staff member who wasn’t a family member.
Someone she could talk to.
Despite everything that had happened, it sounded like a very nice offer.
* * *
“Mokour Lucy!” Niari called as she opened the front door and threw herself into Lucy’s open arms. Lucy loved being called “mother’s sister.” Dressed in an Ocean Crest soccer uniform with the number 99 printed on the front and back, Niari’s dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A glittery red headband read Go Strikers!
“How’s soccer?” Lucy asked as she stepped into her niece’s home.
“Great! I’m on a travel team now. Our last game was an hour away.”
Lucy could just imagine Emma and Max driving all over Southern New Jersey for weekend soccer games. Lucy pulled out
her cell phone. “I liked your last selfie and text. But I couldn’t understand everything you wrote.”
“Let me see,” Niari said as she took the phone from Lucy.
A picture of Niari making a silly face with crossed eyes and tongue sticking out was accompanied with illegible text. Niari read out loud, “2gtbt ur here! See u 2mor vbg bfn.” She glanced up at Lucy. “It’s simple.”
“No, it’s more complicated than Morse code.”
“What’s that?”
“Never mind. What’s it say?” Lucy asked.
“Too good to be true you’re here! See you tomorrow. Very big grin. Bye for now.” Niari gifted Lucy with a big smile. “See. It’s easy.”
“If you say so.”
Niari handed the cell phone back to Lucy. “I want Instagram, but Mom says I’m too young.”
“Your mom is right. Where is she anyway?”
“She’s in the kitchen. Mom and Dad are excited you’re babysitting so they can go out.” Niari jumped up and down once. “So am I.”
“We’re going to have a blast. I brought you something.” Lucy held up a bag.
Niari pulled a box out of the bag in record speed. “Legos!” Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “They’re my favorite.”
“I know. Please take them into the family room. I need to talk to your mom.”
Niari raced away, her ponytail bouncing behind her.
Lucy went into the kitchen to find Emma opening a box of macaroni and cheese on the counter. A pot of boiling water steamed on the stove.
“There’s no need to cook. It’s your Friday date night and I planned on ordering pizza,” Lucy said.
“I know. But I want to make sure there’s extra food for both of you.”
“You sound like Mom,” Lucy pointed out.
Emma turned away from the counter and gave her a bug-eyed look. “Just great. Am I getting that bad?”
Lucy grinned. “Don’t worry. You haven’t reached the point of no return. You’re cooking from a box. Mom would have a heart attack before she ever did that.”
Emma placed a hand on her chest. “Thank goodness. I don’t want to be too much like her.”
Her sister was dressed in a colorful blouse and black pencil skirt with flats. Lucy had always envied Emma’s slim figure and good taste in clothes. It came easy to Emma, but Lucy always felt like she had to work at it. She preferred business suits—very little matching was required.
“How are things with Max?” Lucy asked.
Emma poured the box of pasta into the boiling water and stirred it with a spoon. “He’s busy. Tourists are calling for last minute seasonal rentals.”
“That’s good, right?”
Emma set the spoon down and leaned against the counter. “Yes . . . I suppose. Although I wish he was around more often.”
“Well I hope tonight’s date night will help with that.” Lucy removed a stray Lego from the kitchen chair and sat.
“Sorry,” Emma said. “Niari’s obsessed with them. She’s building an Eiffel Tower from leftover Legos.”
“Maybe my niece will be an engineer.”
“I’m worried about Dad,” Emma said, abruptly changing the topic.
“Heather’s death would stress out any business owner,” Lucy said.
Emma shook her head. “It’s not just that. You haven’t been around to notice.”
Lucy swallowed the guilty knot that rose in her throat. Did Emma harbor bitterness that Lucy had left Ocean Crest and her sister had stayed behind? Or was Emma just concerned for their father? “Tell me.”
“He keeps eating high fat foods despite Mom’s constant nagging to eat healthier. He’s overdue for a visit to his physician for an annual checkup. And he’s put on at least twenty pounds in the past six months. It puts him at risk for things like diabetes.”
Lucy knew her father was mulishly stubborn, and he disliked going to the doctor. He had always been a large man, but how could she not have noticed that much of a weight gain? Fresh guilt settled in her gut. “Twenty pounds? Are you sure?”
“At least.” Emma turned her attention back to stirring the boiling pasta. “Both Mom and Dad are aging and under a lot of stress lately. Why couldn’t that health inspector have died elsewhere?”
That’s the million dollar question, Lucy mused. She took a breath. “Emma, what can you tell me about Calvin Clemmons?”
The spoon rattled on the counter. Emma blinked and her expression shuttered. “What do you want to know?”
“Well for starters, how hard did he take your breakup all those years ago in high school?” Was it her imagination or did Emma’s face pale slightly?
“Uh . . . well . . . it ended badly.”
“You cheated on him, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t my fault. It was high school, and I had a preference for . . . well, bad boys.”
“You cheated on Calvin with Max?”
Emma’s shoulders fell. “No.”
Lucy looked at her in surprise. She’d always known her sister had a wandering eye, but she’d believed it was Max who’d tempted her away from Calvin. “Then who?”
“Calvin’s best friend, Will Thomas.”
“Jeeze, Emma.” In Lucy’s mind, it wouldn’t have been as bad if it had been Max. At least Emma had married him. But for her to cheat on Calvin with his best friend . . . well, that was just downright selfish and mean.
“Max and I dated on and off in high school and college, but it wasn’t him. Will Thomas had that bad boy thing I couldn’t resist. He used to steal his dad’s cigarettes and smoke in the boys’ lavatory. He was fun back then, and Calvin was more straight-laced and geeky.”
Lucy’s earlier concerns were justified. “Calvin called me into the police station for additional questioning. He wasn’t very nice.”
Emma folded her arms across her chest. “You think he still holds a grudge?”
“I’m worried he does.”
“It makes sense. Mom and Dad never liked him and Calvin knew it.”
“Great.” Clemmons had good reason to dislike Emma and her family.
Emma closed her eyes for a second, then opened them. “There’s more. Calvin hit on me at the fall festival. I told him I was a married woman, but he said he didn’t think that would stop me. I slapped him.”
Lucy sat up straight. “The jerk deserved it.”
Emma lowered her eyes to her hands. “Sorry. I never meant to cause trouble.”
Lucy sighed. “I know. I just need to find out what we’re up against. Go out with Max. Don’t worry about anything. Niari and I have a Lego Eiffel Tower to finish.”
Emma hugged her.
As Lucy watched Emma and Max pull out of the driveway, she was worried about Clemmons’ impartiality. Things just kept getting worse—the additional stress from Heather’s death on her aging parents, a pushy former New York City reporter who was salivating over the first murder in Ocean Crest’s history, and Detective Clemmons who had good reason to hate her family and want to pin a murder on Lucy and close the restaurant’s doors forever.
What was next?
CHAPTER 9
“I’m glad you came,” Azad said as he held out a chair for Lucy.
“I can never turn down a cup of Lola’s coffee.” Lucy sipped the brew she’d ordered at the counter and stared at Azad over the rim of her cup.
He looked especially handsome today dressed in a navy golf shirt that accentuated his dark eyes and skin. A lock of hair brushed his brow and her fingers itched to smooth it back. She bit her lip and looked away.
The coffee shop was busy Saturday mornings, and Lola Stewart was occupied serving a steady stream of customers at the counter. Mouthwatering pastries from Susan Cutie’s bakery filled the glass display case. Lucy scanned the glass for a slice of lemon meringue pie and experienced a pang of disappointment when she didn’t see any. She’d have to settle for chocolate chip muffins instead and would buy them for Katie and Bill on her way out.
Azad cr
adled his cup. “How are your parents holding up? I’ve been meaning to visit, but haven’t had a chance.”
“They’re okay.”
“I hate that they’re upset.”
“They’ve been in business for thirty years and they’re tough.”
He chuckled. “You’re right about that. Especially your dad. I remember my first day working there as a busboy and dishwasher. He lectured me on the art of washing dishes.”
She smiled as she pictured the scene. Her father took every duty seriously.
Azad sobered. His stare was bold as he watched her. “Even after all these years, I know it’s awkward between us.”
Awkward was an understatement. Every minute she was in his company the feelings she’d fought so hard to bury resurfaced.
“How’d it go with Calvin Clemmons?”
Her nerves tensed. Azad had known she’d been summoned to Clemmons’ office the day he’d stopped by Katie’s house to ask her to go for a cup of coffee. “It wasn’t pleasant.”
Azad’s lips thinned with displeasure. “Don’t let him bully you. He struts around Ocean Crest like it’s his town. He forgets we have a mayor. He came around and asked me questions, too.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. I told him everything I knew, which isn’t much, and he left.”
She looked at him curiously. “About that day . . . I know we already talked about you knowing Heather, but there’s more I want to ask you.”
He nodded. “Shoot.”
“You were in the restaurant when Heather came in to eat. Did you see anything unusual?”
“No. You were busy taking her order, and I went into the kitchen to say hello to Butch when I saw Big Al making a delivery. I helped Al unload his truck, then left.”
“No one else wandered into the kitchen?”
“Not that I saw. Sorry I can’t be much help.”
She looked down at her coffee before meeting his gaze straight on. “Do you still want to buy Kebab Kitchen?”
“I do.”
“Even though the town health inspector died in the parking lot after eating there?” she asked.
