by Tina Kashian
Mac had said that Sophia had talked about “weird stuff” and mentioned her dreams of pursuing modeling. It all made sense. She had purposely chatted with the bar owner in order to be memorable to him, to create her alibi. All the while, she’d planned to slip away through the back door for a short window of time, then had returned to the bar until closing.
It was brilliant.
Maybe Sophia thought that striking Gilbert on the head was enough to rid herself of an unwanted husband, but at the sight of the saltwater taffy, she knew she could put the blame on someone else—specifically, Melanie.
Lucy’s attention focused on Candace. “You sure it was Sophia?”
“Positive.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? Even tell the police?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant until you came in here asking Mac about it today. I just thought Sophia was leaving through the back door to meet a lover or a boyfriend.” A momentary look of discomfort crossed Candace’s face. “I know all about a woman making bad choices from my high school years. Who am I to judge?”
Lucy knew Candace was talking about her deadbeat boyfriend from high school, who failed to pay child support for her son.
“Thanks for telling me, Candace. I’m not blaming you for anything.”
“I also know you’ve become a resident sleuth. If you can help figure out who killed that sleazy landlord, we can all go about preparing for the upcoming summer season.”
If there was anyone who knew about Lucy’s exploits, it was Candace. A manager in a popular Ocean Crest tavern was as good as the high-speed internet in the small town.
“Thanks again for the info, Candace. It helps more than you know.”
* * *
“I had a great time tonight.” Azad slid his arm around Lucy’s waist as they stood outside his truck. He’d dropped her off in front of Eloisa’s home and escorted her to the porch.
“I had a good time, too.” She had fun simply talking with Azad, listening to the bar’s music, and sharing a few drinks.
Then there was the unexpected news from Candace outside the ladies’ room—information that blew a gaping hole in Sophia Lubinski’s alibi.
“I hope what you learned helps.” Azad’s breath ruffled her hair.
Lucy had informed Azad of Candace’s shocking news. Once again, she’d debated keeping it to herself. For all his good intentions and words at the bar, she didn’t want to worry him. But she could do both, couldn’t she? Keep Azad in the loop, but put his mind at ease at the same time?
Lucy toyed with the top button of his shirt. “I’m going to tell Bill what I learned.”
“Good idea. I hope the police wrap up this murder business soon. The summer isn’t the only thing that’s around the corner. Easter is, too. It would be nice to have a worry-free holiday.”
Lucy leaned into his embrace. His cologne smelled wonderful, a mix of spice and male. Azad always smelled good, whether it was from his tantalizing cooking at the restaurant or when they were on a date.
He smiled down at her. Acting on impulse, she stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. Azad’s arms tightened around her waist as he kissed her back, slowly and leisurely. Her heart slammed against her ribs as his kiss sang through her veins. She pressed her palms against his solid chest and could feel his heart pounding beneath the cotton in a rhythm that matched her own. They kept kissing, lips and tongue melding together in a delicious sensation. His lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit. She wanted him to come inside and climb the steps to her upstairs apartment, but he’d made his intentions clear. He wanted to take it slow.
But at the same time, he wasn’t acting like he would resist.
A light flicked on inside the house. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the curtains of the bay window flutter. Had Cupid jumped up on the couch and ruffled the curtains, or was Eloisa watching them?
Gah.
Lucy felt like a horny teenager on a date whose parents were waiting up for her.
Azad broke the kiss and smiled down at her. “I have a feeling we’re being watched.”
“You too? We are going to have to start sneaking around the back, trekking through the sand, and entering my apartment from the deck stairs.”
He arched a dark eyebrow. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You’d like to come inside?”
Did her voice sound too hopeful?
He brushed a loose curl from her cheek and tucked it around her ear. His coffee-brown eyes appeared darker, more intense. The clouds shifted and a shaft of moonlight illuminated his handsome face, the clear-cut lines of his profile.
“Soon. But not tonight,” he said. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I meant it when I said that we shouldn’t rush into things. I know I messed up in the past. I also know you were hesitant to start dating me again, and that you had serious doubts about having a relationship with your head chef. I’m interested in a serious, long-term relationship with you, Lucy Berberian. I need you to be certain.”
She looked up at him in surprise and adoration. He’d been right about her doubts. So much was at stake with them working together. Parts of her, the deepest parts, were still uncertain.
His words serious and long-term rattled in her head.
Did he have to be so considerate? And why did that make him even more attractive?
Chapter Eighteen
“Sophia lied about her alibi? Good work, Lucy!” Katie said over the phone.
“I really didn’t do anything. I asked Mac McCabe and he said she was there all night. I was lucky Candace overheard and sought me out by the ladies’ room to tell me.” Lucy had called Katie after Azad left. Eloisa had mysteriously disappeared as soon as Lucy had opened the front door and headed upstairs to her apartment. Even Cupid was quiet.
“Still, good work. We can add Sophia back to the suspect list,” Katie said.
Lucy held her cell phone as she made sure the door that led to the downstairs was firmly closed. “She was only gone half an hour.”
Gadoo came forward in a blur and started to do figure eights between her legs. She reached down to scratch beneath the orange and black cat’s silky chin, and he purred.
“It’s enough time. She’s fit enough to make that run. We saw her in yoga, remember?” Katie asked.
“How can I forget?”
“By the way, how was your date with Azad? You’re calling me so I know he didn’t come inside your apartment.”
Damn. She didn’t want to go into details. “Yeah, well, he wants to take it slow, remember?
“He wants you to be sure.”
Double damn. Katie knew her so well.
“What’s it gonna take for you to be sure?” Katie asked.
She didn’t want to talk about it. Not when her own feelings were confusing. She liked Azad. A lot. When she was with him, it felt right. But she hadn’t even been back in Ocean Crest for a year and everything was changing day by day. Kebab Kitchen was a big part of her life. She needed that stability, and the restaurant needed Azad.
“It’s not that easy. He works for me now.”
“Get over it, Lucy. Your working relationship won’t get in the way. Next time we get together, we need to talk about your issues.”
* * *
The following morning, Lucy’s running shoes pounded on the boards. She breathed in the fresh ocean air and the scent of frying bacon from one of the boardwalk restaurants that served breakfast. She spotted several bicycles and surreys with signs that read “CITTERONI’S BICYCLE RENTAL” on the back and knew Michael’s bicycle shop was picking up business as the weather grew warmer every day and it came closer to the summer season. Joggers and walkers jostled for space and maneuvered around the bicycles.
She passed a four-person surrey and smiled at the sight of a three-year-old girl sitting in the front basket. Lucy waved, and the little girl rang the surrey bell and waved back. Lucy kept going and spotted a few of the motorcycle riders jogging
. Even without their Harley-Davidson leather jackets, she recognized their faces, some bearded with long hair and others smoothly shaven with trimmed cuts. Many of the women bikers ran with tank tops and capris. Many had colorful ink on their arms and legs, and Lucy suspected the tattoo parlor on the boardwalk would do a brisk business this week.
She passed the Sun and Surf Shop owned by Harold Harper, which sold beach clothing, and Gray’s Novelty Shop. She spotted the owners, elderly sisters Edna and Edith Gray inside. Shelves were crowded with sunscreen, boogie boards, beach toys, and an array of local jewelry made of shells. A large glass tank sat in the front of the store and contained a dozen or so hermit crabs, their shells painted different colors and designs.
A seagull squawked and drew her attention to where the bird circled a toddler with blond ponytails beside her parents. She began walking with her mother, a breakfast bagel in her outstretched hand. Just as Lucy was about to shout out a warning, the seagull swooped down and plucked the bagel out of the child’s hand.
Wailing immediately ensued.
Lucy had seen it coming, but hadn’t been fast enough to prevent disaster. But that was the way nature—or Jersey shore seagulls—worked around here. The mother whipped out a banana from her purse, peeled it, and handed it to the child. The little girl stopped crying as soon as she took a bite of the fruit.
Crises contained.
“Lucy!”
Lucy swiveled to see Madame Vega waving from outside her psychic salon. She snuffed out her cigarette in the lower half of a plastic soda bottle that had been cut to serve as a makeshift ashtray.
“Time for a reading today?” Madame asked.
Not really. Lucy needed to shower and return to the restaurant to finish payroll before the lunch shift, but she was torn between duty and fortunetelling. Plus, Madame Vega was a boardwalk fixture. She’d been a presence here since Lucy had been in pigtails, riding on her father’s shoulders as he strolled the boardwalk with Emma by his side. Not much happened around here that Madame Vega didn’t know about—or predict. She’d even unwittingly helped Lucy solve a crime in the past.
That was another reason Lucy felt she should take the time to have her cards read. She could ask Madame what she’d seen or heard, if anything, the evening of the bonfire. The woman spent hours in her psychic salon, and there was a good chance she’d been here the evening Gilbert was killed.
“Sure, I have time,” Lucy said. “It’s been a while since you’ve read my cards.”
Madame smiled and waved Lucy inside. “Hurry up, then. The spirits are strong today.”
Lucy hadn’t believed in tarot cards. It was like hocus-pocus to her. But then Madame Vega had been surprisingly accurate, especially about Azad, and Lucy had turned from a nonbeliever to an occasional skeptic.
She walked into the room and sat at a red-velvet-draped table. Madame Vega adjusted her flowing blue robe and sat across from her. Reaching for a matching blue turban with a fake blue jewel in the center, she placed it on her gray curls and rested her hands on the table.
“No tarot today. The cards do not have the answers you’re looking for,” Madame said.
“They don’t? Why not?” Lucy frowned. She hadn’t expected this from the psychic. She’d come to look forward to having her cards read. It was like going to the casino: You never knew what cards you’d draw or if you’d be lucky or not, but you still wanted to take a chance.
Madame adjusted her voluminous sleeves. “The spirits, just like the ocean winds, are blowing a different direction.” Her voice was calm, her gaze steady.
Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “I didn’t notice.”
“The spirits don’t talk to you.”
Lucy was returning to being a complete unbeliever, and fast. First, she hadn’t felt an ocean breeze this morning. She would have loved to feel one as she’d jogged. And second, what did an ocean breeze have to do with reading tarot cards?
Madame turned her hand over on the table. “Relax and give me your hand.”
“You plan on reading my palm?”
“Yes. Stop talking.”
Lucy let out a breath and placed her hand, palm up, on the red-velvet tablecloth. She’d much rather have her cards read. It had been somewhat fun to pick the cards and then turn them over to discover which ones she’d selected. Each tarot card was different and had pictures that Lucy couldn’t make sense of, but Madame excelled at interpreting them.
Madame Vega’s hand was cool as she held Lucy’s. “Your heart line curves upward, which means you are outwardly affectionate to those in your inner circle.”
Lucy liked to think so. She grew up with loving parents who’d often told her and Emma that they loved them. Their affectionate nature used to annoy Lucy as a teenager, but as she grew older, she also grew to appreciate Angela and Raffi. When Lucy was a kid and went to Katie’s house, the differences between their upbringings was stark. Katie’s parents rarely told her that they loved her. Katie knew she was loved, but it wasn’t until she was grown and married to Bill that she’d confessed to Lucy that she’d felt like something was missing in her childhood. She made up for it by telling Bill she loved him every day.
Madame’s wrinkled brow creased a bit more as she stared at Lucy’s palm. “You also have gaps on your heart line, which indicate that you have known heartbreak.”
She had. Azad had broken her heart after college. Would that show in her palm? Lucy leaned forward to see what Madame was pointing to. “What gaps?”
“Right here. And here.”
Lucy saw them, then. Tiny little breaks in the line. Other than Azad, Lucy had experienced one or two failed romantic episodes when she’d worked in Philadelphia, but no one had captured her interest or her heart. She guessed that each of those doomed relationships could have led to a broken line on her palm.
Was that why she was hesitant to fully embrace love? Because of the gaps on her heart line? Was there a gap in her future with Azad?
Her stomach tightened and she stared at her palm with renewed interest. There was something about Madame Vega that was compelling. Maybe all those years passing her psychic salon as a kid had captivated Lucy more than she’d realized.
Madame turned her hand this way and that to see better in the candlelight. “Do not let the past interfere with your future. You must work hard to overcome your doubts. The gaps are early on and do not continue.”
Thank goodness. That meant her relationship with Azad would stay on track. She hoped the woman’s prediction was spot on. Once more, Lucy looked down to be sure she was seeing the same thing Madame Vega was.
“Are you sure about this stuff?” Lucy asked.
“Shh. I said no chitchat,” Madame admonished. “Now, your head line is the second line. It curves downward toward the wrist.”
“Is that bad?” She was beginning to believe more and more.
“It means you are creative and trusting.”
She didn’t think of herself as overly creative, especially in the kitchen. Her mother’s cooking lessons were still a struggle, even though she’d improved. Her dishes were edible and tasted better with each attempt. But was she creative in other ways?
Madame looked at her with curiosity. “You did attend law school, didn’t you? Don’t you have to be a creative thinker for that?”
Lucy shrugged. “I suppose.” Three years of law school had taught her to think outside the box, and to analyze every aspect of a case in order to represent a client zealously. Certainly, that counted as creative. It also came in handy when solving a puzzle such as who killed Gilbert?
“As for trusting,” Lucy said. “I’m not so sure.”
“You trust your friends.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. How did Madame know this?
“Yes, but that’s different,” Lucy said.
Madame ignored her argument and continued. “Now, your life line is strong and deep. It means you are enthusiastic about your life here.”
She
may not have wanted to stay in Ocean Crest months ago, when she left the firm, but she was glad she had. She never would have been with her best friend on a daily basis, never would have prevented her parents from selling Kebab Kitchen and discovered the joy and satisfaction of managing the place.
“What about how long I’ll live and that stuff?”
Madame tsked. “What everyone thinks is wrong. The lifeline does not represent longevity.”
Too bad. Lucy had always thought longevity ran in her family. Her grandmother had lived into her nineties. She’d always hoped stubbornness had something to do with it, and both Angela and Raffi Berberian had boatloads of that trait.
“Your faint line, the vertical line in the center of your palm, is both weak and strong. I haven’t seen that before.”
Lucy felt a moment of trepidation. Madame Vega had been doing this for years and had probably seen a thousand palms. What could be so different about hers?
“You attract loyalty, but also trouble.”
“What does that mean?”
Madame looked up and met Lucy’s eyes. “You have a knack for finding bodies.”
Lucy drew in her breath. “I wouldn’t call it a knack. That sounds like a good trait.”
Madame shrugged a skinny shoulder and adjusted her turban. “You unearth answers, but need help along the way.”
Lucy immediately thought of Katie. No doubt her friend had aided her in the past. It also helped that Katie had an obsession for crime-fighting television shows. Madame Vega had also said that Lucy was good at getting answers. Maybe it was time to ask her what she knew about Gilbert’s murder.
“There is another mystery in Ocean Crest. If you’re right about my palm, I need some help unearthing answers,” Lucy said.
Madame Vega set down Lucy’s palm and leaned back in her seat. “I assume you’re speaking of Mr. Lubinski’s murder at the bonfire?”
“The bonfire took place on the beach, not far from your salon. Did you happen to be here that night?” Lucy asked.
“Until the summer season starts, I usually close early. But I was here that night, writing bills.”
