On the Lamb

by Tina Kashian

  Were newspaper sales slagging, or was there more to his offer? She could never tell with Stan Slade.

  She became aware that he was waiting for her response. “Fine. If there’s something I want to put out there, I’ll come to you first. Now, would you please leave? I have a lot to do before the lunch hour.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  By the time Lucy and her mother finished, it was around eight o’clock in the morning. Lucy headed straight for Lola’s Coffee shop. As soon as she opened the door, the heavenly scent of freshly ground coffee beans drifted to her.

  Lola Stewart was behind the counter serving a line of caffeine-deprived-looking customers. A tall, thin woman, Lola’s steel-gray hair was styled in her customary low bun. A tower of chunky white mugs was stacked behind the counter, and a refrigerated case displayed tempting Danishes, muffins, and assorted pastries from Cutie’s Cupcakes. The sound of the hissing espresso machine as it turned milk into a frothy foam, combined with the chattering of customers sitting at colorful bistro tables, was as comforting as the smell.

  Katie was already seated at a cozy table for two tucked away in the corner. She waved when she saw Lucy and pointed to a takeout cup with a cardboard sleeve and a muffin on a plate. Lucy hurried over and sat in a wire-backed chair across from her.

  “A cappuccino and a banana nut muffin for you,” Katie said.

  Lucy reached for the cup. “You’re the best.”

  “I know. But be careful! It’s steaming hot.”

  Lucy removed the lid and blew on the steaming cappuccino. She reached for a sugar stick—one of her favorite things at the coffee shop—and stirred the crystal sugar into her cappuccino.

  Katie stirred milk into her coffee and took a small sip. “I still can’t believe it. First, Sophia lies about her alibi. Then, she secretly meets Craig and offers to sell him her inherited half of the Seagull Condos.”

  Lucy had already updated Katie on what she’d discovered at Mac’s Pub and the blacklight minigolf. “Both Sophia and Craig had strong motive and opportunity to want Gilbert dead. Craig was already at the bonfire. Sophia had a half-hour window to get to the beach and kill her husband.”

  Katie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “What if they both had a hand in the murder?”

  “You think they were in it together?” Lucy’s brow furrowed as she considered the scenario. It was a good theory. “It’s entirely possible. Maybe one of them struck Gilbert from behind with the driftwood and the other suffocated him. It was pretty convenient that the saltwater taffy was there. Melanie is the perfect scapegoat, especially after everyone witnessed her fight with Gilbert on the beach.”

  Katie set down her cup. “Maybe they thought they’d killed him by striking him senseless. Only when they noticed him still breathing did they think to suffocate him. It would have been easy to shove a wad of saltwater taffy down Gilbert’s throat if he was already unconscious. Like you said, framing Melanie was a bonus.”

  This was an even better theory. “So far, it’s working. Detective Clemmons has his eye on Melanie. He came to the restaurant to ask my mom what she knew about Melanie and her family.”

  “He did? Bill didn’t mention anything about that. I would have told you if he had. But it doesn’t surprise me. Bill isn’t working the case and he’s not a detective yet. He wouldn’t be privy to Clemmons’s thinking.”

  “I fear Detective Clemmons will be arresting Melanie soon. How do we tell Clemmons what we’ve learned without getting into trouble ourselves?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Katie said. “You were at the pub and Candace tracked you down to tell you that Sophia lied about spending the entire night at the bar.”

  “True. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “Then what?”

  “What about my eavesdropping on Craig and Sophia at the blacklight minigolf? Last time I checked, sneaking into a business before it’s open isn’t legal.”

  Katie wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, well . . . forget about telling Clemmons right now. It’s too soon anyway. And we still have other suspects to consider. Melanie’s sister, Rhonda, had an online gambling problem and borrowed cash from Gilbert.”

  “That doesn’t exactly look good for Melanie either. She tried to help her sister out when she couldn’t make Gilbert’s high-interest payments. Gilbert started going after Melanie when she fell behind on her own rent. Melanie had just as strong a motive as Rhonda to want Gilbert dead. The police will consider it additional motive.”

  Katie sighed. “Gilbert didn’t have a shortage of people who disliked him. He wasn’t well-liked by many of his tenants either. Plus, he was a town loan shark. But before we delve into that mess, I think we should look into Pumpkin O’Connor.”

  Lucy pulled her sugar stick out of her coffee. All the sugar had melted. She thought about the scene at the tattoo parlor, and Pumpkin’s anger over a mixed-up appointment. He may have acted like a jerk, but it didn’t add up to why he’d want to murder Gilbert. “Pumpkin doesn’t have a strong-enough motive. All he did was dig up a few flower beds because Gilbert didn’t pay for his landscaping services.”

  “That’s not the entire reason,” Katie said. “I asked my coworkers at the town hall, and some said that Pumpkin has quite a temper. He came in a couple of times ranting and raving about Gilbert not paying him and wanted to know how the township could help. When someone told him the township couldn’t intervene in private matters and told him to file a small claims lawsuit with the county, Pumpkin hollered something fierce and said he’d take care of Gilbert himself. I remembered what you said about Pumpkin picking a fight at Tessa’s Tattoo Parlor. If he gets that angry over a tattoo appointment and unpaid landscaping, maybe he lost it and killed Gilbert.”

  “Wow!” So they didn’t have just one example of Pumpkin’s temper, but two. And he’d gone so far as to publicly threaten to take care of Gilbert himself. Lucy wondered if Michael knew about his friend’s anger issues. Or if he knew about Craig’s business ambitions.

  Michael had told her he’d met both men at a motorcycle club three years ago and they had enjoyed riding together ever since. How well did he know either Pumpkin or Craig? It wasn’t as if you could talk when you rode side by side. Did they meet at bars beforehand and talk about things other than motorcycles?

  “Another coworker told me that Pumpkin owns a large greenhouse in town. It’s where he parks his trucks at the end of the day. I figure we can find him there when he’s not landscaping. We should check it out today after I get off work. I get off early on Fridays.”

  “What about Bill?” Lucy asked.

  Katie looked down at her coffee. “What about him?”

  “You know what I mean,” Lucy said. “He wouldn’t be okay with us snooping around.”

  Katie shook her head. “Don’t worry about Bill. We aren’t doing anything wrong. It’s not like we’re breaking and entering into someone’s business in the middle of the night.”

  “God only knows, we’ve done that before,” Lucy muttered.

  Katie wasn’t just talking about Lucy’s escapade into the minigolf on the boardwalk in the morning. They’d done worse together in the past. They’d also been caught in the act and dodged a bullet as they’d fled.

  Lucy suppressed a shiver just recalling the memory.

  Katie settled back in her chair. “What I meant to say is that we’re just going to a landscaper’s greenhouse to talk with the owner. For all anyone knows, I want to buy mulch and flowers for my flower bed. If we happen to learn something, we can spill it all to Bill.”

  Lucy let out a held-in breath. “I guess you’re right.”

  Katie stood and gathered her purse and coffee. “I get off at three. I’ll pick you up after work.”

  Lucy pushed back her chair. “Sounds good.” She reached for her purse and froze. The door opened and her father stepped inside the coffee shop. She nearly dropped her bag. “Oh brother, there’s my dad.”

  “Is that
a problem?” Katie asked.

  After meeting Katie, Lucy had forgotten that Raffi liked to frequent Lola’s Coffee Shop to see friends. An image of her mother flashed before her—her short stature and military bearing, the signature beehive, the stern expression when she’d brought up her father, and suddenly, Lucy didn’t want to get involved. If her mother had an issue with her father, she could march down here herself and confront him.

  “My mom hates that he comes here every morning. She told me to fetch my dad if I saw him.”

  Katie shot her an incredulous look. “Seriously? Why’d you agree? Getting involved in your parent’s marital disputes may be more dangerous than confronting Clemmons.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement. I had another reason for agreeing. I want to see if Clemmons asked my dad questions.”

  Katie waggled her fingers at Lucy. “Good luck with that.”

  “You’re not going to stay to help?”

  “Nope. I have more common sense than interfering with my own parents’ quarrels. See you later.”

  Lucy waited until her father got in line for coffee before approaching him. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Lucy! What are you doing here?” His dark brows drew together like a hairy caterpillar. “Did your mother send you?”

  How much to admit? She forced a smile and kept his gaze. “Yes and no. It’s true that Mom doesn’t like your coffee-shop habit, but I came here this morning to meet Katie before she had to go to work.”

  “Where’s Katie?” He looked beyond her shoulder.

  “She left already, but I want to talk with you about something else.”

  He eyed her curiously. “Oh? It sounds serious. Is it about the inventory? You want more time to go out with Azad Saturday nights? I’ve been looking at the estimates you set out for me in the office.”

  “No, it’s not about Azad or inventory.” She heard the frustration in her voice. She wanted a computerized inventory system, had nagged him for one for months. And now he was considering it because he thought she needed more time to go out with Azad? Really? Is that what it took? She would have pulled strings and used that excuse a long time ago if she’d thought of it.

  Her father made it up to the counter and placed his order. Lucy followed him to a table that seated six and he pulled out a chair for her.

  “My friends should be here soon,” Raffi said. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

  Lucy leveled her gaze at her father. “Detective Clemmons came to the restaurant and asked Mom questions about Melanie Haven and her family. She said you weren’t there.”

  “I heard about the detective’s visit.”

  “Did he track you down, too?” Lucy asked.

  He opened the coffee lid and added cream. “No. At least, not yet.”

  “Will you promise to tell me if he does?”

  A probing look came into his eyes. “I’ll promise if you tell me the truth. Did your mother send you here this morning?”

  She eyed him warily. “Mom told me to find you, but like I said, I was meeting Katie here anyway.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Your mother hates that I come here. Now that we’re retired, she wants me to spend mornings with her.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “No, but I have friends here. Friends that I used to see on a regular basis at the restaurant. We talk sports and politics. Your mother should understand. I don’t keep her from her church friends every Sunday.”

  When her parents ran the restaurant full-time, they both had an abundance of acquaintances. Running the business was like running an active social calendar. Certain friends came to eat on certain days. There was always plenty of chatting with people who liked to share stories. Then there was the waitstaff, Sally and Emma, and cooks, Butch and Azad, and others who had worked at Kebab Kitchen throughout the thirty years—all of whom were like one big, extended family. Her father simply missed the social interaction.

  So did her mother in her own way.

  For the first time, Lucy realized retirement—even semiretirement—had been a hard adjustment for her parents.

  She touched his hand. “You should explain it to Mom. She’d understand. She’s probably feeling the same way and misses talking with the customers. She probably thinks you can fill the void by staying home in the mornings.”

  Surprise flashed across her father’s face. “You think so? I never thought she felt the same.”

  Lucy was amazed that two people who had been married for over forty years could still have communication problems and have difficulty sharing their current feelings. Marriage took work, her mother often said.

  “I think Mom does feel the same way. Meanwhile, she mentioned an outing in Philadelphia for Cooking Kurt’s newest cookbook signing. You should take Mom and spend time together. It will be good for you both.”

  At the mention of Cooking Kurt, her father’s jaw tensed, displaying his deep frustration. “That man is a fraud. It’s his second cookbook in less than six months. You don’t actually believe he wrote either book, do you?”

  Lucy had her own doubts about the handsome celebrity chef. “Maybe he’s like Martha Stewart and has his own staff. You should still take Mom.”

  “I hate going into the city,” he grumbled.

  She knew that for a fact about her father. When Lucy worked in Philadelphia, her parents never visited. She had to travel to see them for the holidays. Even though the city was only an hour and a half drive—ninety miles from Ocean Crest—crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge into the city was like traveling to a foreign country for her father.

  “You don’t have to drive,” Lucy said. “Take the bus. It will please Mom, and you can spend quality time together.”

  Raffi cradled his cup in silence, a brooding expression on his face. “All right. I’ll do it for her. I’ll also cut it short today, before your mother comes down here and drags me back home by my hair.” He ran his hand over his balding pate. “God only knows, I have little left as it is.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lucy was waiting for Katie in the restaurant’s parking lot when Katie pulled up in her Jeep.

  “I looked up the address for Pumpkin’s greenhouse on my cell phone,” Katie said.

  Lucy sat in the passenger seat and reached for her seat belt. “Good. I have about two hours.” Azad and Butch were handling the kitchen and Sally and Emma could hold down the fort in the dining room so that Lucy could escape.

  Katie started the engine and they drove down Ocean Avenue and passed the boardwalk ramp. Lucy glimpsed the ocean between buildings, a brilliant blue line on the horizon, as Katie continued driving. They made it to the end of town, and rather than leave Ocean Crest, Katie turned left. Houses blurred by, until they came to a bumpy dirt road. The Jeep’s suspension bounced, and Lucy jostled in her seat.

  Lucy pulled her seat belt tight. “You might want to slow down on this back road. It’s not the Indy 500.”

  “Don’t be a back-seat driver. Besides, we’re here.”

  Lucy looked up to see a large glass and steel greenhouse come into view. A handmade sign, “PUMPKIN’S LANDSCAPING,” was written in big, black letters attached to a wooden stake. Pumpkin’s landscaping pickup truck was parked on the side of the greenhouse.

  Katie parked next to the truck, and they stepped outside. The late afternoon sun shone brightly, and Lucy cupped a hand over her eyes as she peered inside the greenhouse. Tables holding rows and rows of plants ran down the length of the interior. “I don’t see anyone. Do you?”

  Katie shook her head, then knocked on the glass door. No answer.

  There was no lock on the door. She reached for the handle and cracked open the door. “Pumpkin? Are you in there?”

  No answer.

  “Maybe he’s all the way in the back and can’t hear us,” Lucy said. “Let’s go inside.”

  A worried expression flashed across Katie’s face. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Remember what happened when we snuck into Kevin Crowley’s boa
rdwalk trailer?”

  “This is different. It’s a greenhouse, not an office, and there’s no lock,” Lucy said. She opened the door wide and stepped inside. Katie was right behind her.

  Humid warmth enveloped them in a wave. The space was crowded down its center with four long worktables, holding gardening tools, bags of potting soil, and pots in every size imaginable. The scent of flowers, plants, and moist soil hung in the air like a heady perfume. Lucy walked down an aisle and recognized pots of colorful daffodils, hydrangeas, and tulips ready to be sold for Easter. Other plants and shrubs would brighten flower beds all over town, including Kebab Kitchen’s flower boxes and landscaping.

  “Pumpkin!” Lucy called out.

  Katie walked ahead of her. “No one’s here. Pumpkin must have more than one truck if he left one behind. I have paper in my purse. Should we leave a note for him?”

  Lucy contemplated the idea, then shook her head. “No. Now that we know where this place is, we can catch up with him later. I really don’t think Pumpkin is our strongest suspect anyway. He may have a temper, but do you really think he murdered Gilbert for unpaid landscaping bills?”

  “Nah, I guess not and—” Katie stiffened, her eyes widening at something she spotted over Lucy’s shoulder. “We may not have to wait. He just pulled up out front.”

  Lucy spun around and followed Katie’s gaze to see a second pickup truck park by the greenhouse door. “Let’s go. We can talk to him now.”

  As she watched, Pumpkin walked around the truck to open the passenger-side door. Sophia Lubinski stepped out. Dressed in a short red dress and high-heeled sandals, she smoothed down her skirt. A second later, she reached up to kiss Pumpkin fully on the mouth.

  Lucy stiffened in shock as she watched the scene unfold. “Oh my God. Do you see—”

  Katie’s gaze was riveted. “I see. What are Pumpkin and Sophia doing together?”

  “I don’t know, but clearly they haven’t spotted your Jeep parked on the side behind his spare truck.”

  The couple broke apart, and Lucy grabbed Katie’s arm. “They’re headed here. We have to hide.”