by Tina Kashian
“I overheard Archie talking to someone on his cell phone. He called her his ‘bunny,’ which is the same thing he used to call me. I took his cell when he wasn’t looking, searched the call history, and called Kristin. That’s when I learned he was married.”
“That must have been awkward.”
“Oh, I never actually spoke with Kristin, but with her secretary. I asked when was the best time to deliver flowers, and the secretary said his wife would be working in the office all week and would love them. I would have confronted her face-to-face, but she didn’t travel to Ocean Crest to see Archie. He visited her in the city.”
Kristin had said as much during the funeral. Archie traveling had a twofold purpose: he’d visit his wife, and Rita would never know he was married. “Did you confront Archie?” Lucy asked.
“I did. He admitted he was married, but he said he never loved Kristin the way he loved me.”
What a cheesy line. Did Rita buy it? If a man lied to Lucy about his marital status, she would be furious.
“Did you—”
“Take him back? No. I kicked him to the curb.”
“You must have been furious,” Lucy said.
“You mean was I mad enough to kill him?”
“Were you?”
“Yes, at first. But then I calmed down. I deserve a man who is honest, not someone living a double life.”
A double life.
It was an accurate way to describe him. There was a lot more to Archie Kincaid than they’d thought. Even more than Katie had suspected. He had a wife, but kept a girlfriend. No one in town had known he’d been married. Archie wanted to expand his business and open a bike shop, and rather than take the current mayor’s no for an answer, he’d targeted the upcoming Ocean Crest mayor and blackmailed him with pictures with a stripper.
What else was Archie hiding?
“You’re right. You do deserve a better man.”
Rita let out a sigh. “I can’t let you leave here looking lopsided. Hold on.” She dipped a new stick in the wax pot and came at Lucy. This time, Lucy flinched.
“Don’t do that. Your brows won’t be symmetrical if you scrunch your face.”
Lucy forced herself to relax as Rita applied the wax. Lucy gripped the edge of the table in anticipation of the pain.
Rip!
Lucy rubbed her eyebrow. “People voluntarily get their legs waxed?”
“Yup. Their legs, their underarms, their backs. You name it. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a Brazilian wax.”
God, no.
Rita handed her the mirror again. Lucy grudgingly admitted that her eyebrows looked nice.
“I didn’t go overboard, just cleaned them up a bit,” Rita said.
“Thanks. I was worried you’d take it out on me for asking personal questions.”
Rita tossed the Popsicle stick in the trash and turned to look at Lucy. “I didn’t kill Archie. You believe me, don’t you?”
Either Rita was a spectacular actress, or she truly was innocent. She wouldn’t be the first woman who’d been bamboozled by a cheating man.
“Why is it important to you that I believe you?” Lucy asked.
“You solved two murders before. I figure your track record is better than that detective’s.”
* * *
“Are you sure about sneaking around Archie’s shop?” Katie asked.
“I am. If those blackmail pictures of Ben and Vanessa are in Seaside Gifts, then we need to find them. It shows strong motive for Ben to want Archie dead.”
They were sitting on a boardwalk bench by the railing overlooking the beach. It was noon, and Katie had taken her lunch hour to meet Lucy on the boardwalk. It was also Lucy’s parents’ afternoon to watch Kebab Kitchen, and Lucy would return to run the dinner shift.
She breathed in the fresh ocean air and took in the scene before her. Colorful umbrellas were spread across the beach, and sunbathers lay on towels and sat on beach chairs while people waded in the ocean. Children frolicked in the surf and built sandcastles with pails and shovels. The lifeguards watched from tall chairs.
“If we’re lucky enough to find the compromising photos, then what? We can’t just turn them in to the police. How do we explain how we found them?” Katie asked.
Katie had a good point. If they turned them in, then they would have to confess that they’d sneaked into the shop, rummaged through Archie’s belongings, and found pictures of Ben and Vanessa.
“I guess we’d have to tell Bill,” Lucy said.
Katie looked at her incredulously. “You’re always the one who doesn’t want to get Bill involved.”
“I know.” Bill had come to Lucy and asked her to help, or at least, listen and report any tidbits to him. She’d never told Katie about her meeting with Bill. “Well . . . um . . . Bill’s been worried about you.”
“He’s always worried.”
“He’s voiced his concerns to me.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by ‘voiced his concerns?’”
“We’ve met at the coffee shop to talk.” Lucy flinched. She hated keeping anything from Katie, but she didn’t want to betray Bill’s confidence. Revealing that they’d had coffee to talk wasn’t a betrayal, was it?
“He asked for your help, didn’t he?” Kate’s lips dipped into a frown.
“Don’t be mad at him.”
“He could have told me that he met with my best friend,” she argued.
“He asked me to ask around. A lot of people come into the restaurant.”
“He also knows you’ve been more successful lately than Calvin Clemmons’s when it comes to solving crime,” Katie said.
“He loves you.”
Katie let out a slow breath. “I know. I love him, too. Stubborn man.”
Lucy felt a stab of jealousy. She hadn’t been blessed with a husband who loved her more than himself. Her relationship with Azad was rocky, at best. “You’re lucky. I haven’t been as fortunate in the male department.”
“I think your luck is going to improve,” Katie said.
Lucy didn’t feel as confident. “I apologized to Azad, but I’m still not sure—”
“Maybe you need another visit with Madame Vega to boost your confidence.”
Lucy burst out laughing. “I just might. I think she specializes in relationship advice.”
In the distance, two boys tossed potato chips in the air and a swarm of seagulls swooped in. Their mother immediately scolded them. Lucy smiled as she watched the scene play out.
“Now, as for Archie’s shop,” Katie said, “I don’t think Bill would want us to snoop inside.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Lucy said.
“But we’re going to anyway, aren’t we?”
Lucy stood. “All you have to do is distract Neil while I pretend to shop. I’ll slip into the back room and see what I can find.”
“Got it.”
They passed the Sun and Surf Shop, Harold’s store. Harold was flipping through a bin of boogie boards while a kid studied the design on each board.
They entered Seaside Gifts. Several tourists were inside, and Neil was behind the counter at the cash register. He was wearing a faded and frayed blue T-shirt. His long hair hung in his face and he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed—a far cry from how he’d presented himself at his uncle’s funeral. Spray-painted canvases hung on the walls, dark splashes of color that gave off the vibe that the artist was angry or euphoric or both. Neil’s latest artwork.
Lucy went to a rack of beach cover-ups near the back of the store and pretended to sort through each one while Katie headed straight for the counter.
“Hi. I’m looking for shorts for my husband,” Katie said, her voice cheerful.
“All our shorts are at the front of the store,” Neil said.
“He’s picky. He only wears certain brands.”
“Do you know what kind?” Neil asked.
“Not off the top of my head, but I think I can recognize them i
f I see them. Can you help me pick out a couple of pairs?” Katie asked.
“Sure.” Neil stepped out from behind the counter and led Katie to a rack of men’s clothing.
Smart Katie. She’d keep Neil occupied for a while.
Lucy didn’t waste time. She slipped around the counter and headed to the back storage room. Boxes were stacked and labeled with everything from men’s board shorts to bikinis to magnets, key chains, and bottle openers. A battered metal desk was in the corner, its surface crowded with papers and files. A computer and printer were on the desk. A large roll of duct tape and scissors sat next to the computer. A metal filing cabinet was to the right of the desk, and wooden shelves cluttered with more papers lined the wall behind the desk. A large canvas was propped against a squat box against the wall. The painting was of a woman looking over her shoulder as a shadow of a man loomed behind. The paint smelled fresh. It gave Lucy the creeps. It must be Neil’s artwork.
She turned her attention back to the room. Simply put, it was a mess. She’d need hours to properly search.
Where to start?
Seconds were ticking by. Lucy sprinted to the desk and started searching. Invoices, order sheets, time slips, and old tax records were haphazardly scattered across the desk. She opened one of the side drawers. More papers. She shut the drawer and moved on to the next one.
Each desk drawer was just as cluttered. She was almost out of time. Katie could only hold off Neil for so long.
She had a strong suspicion that Ben had been the one to break into this shop in search of the incriminating photos.
She was sweating. There was no question. Lucy had to find a way to sneak back in here.
She closed the second drawer, and opened the slim drawer, which contained pens, pencils, erasers, and random-sized paper clips. Nothing.
Just as she was about to close the drawer, a glimmer of sunlight from the window in the storage room door reflected off of something. A key.
She picked it up and looked at the key tag. It read SPARE.
Her heart kicked up a notch.
Could it be?
Her gaze flew to the back door. There was no dead bolt, just a lock in the doorknob. The burglar had pried open the rolling security gate in the front of the shop that led to the boardwalk. He didn’t try to break in from the back door. She snatched the key and hurried to the door. The key slipped into the lock, turned, and the door opened.
Success!
Lucy closed the door and locked it with the key, then slipped the key into her back pocket.
She rushed from the storage room just as Neil and Katie were headed to the register. Heart thundering, Lucy ducked behind a shelf of sunscreen.
“Oh! I forgot one more thing. Bill wants a pair of new sunglasses, too. Can you just point me to where they are?” Katie asked.
“Over there.” Neil turned to point to a wall on the store displaying a large selection of sunglasses.
Lucy darted to a rack of beach cover-ups she’d been pretending to shop for earlier.
Katie pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank you. I don’t know how I could have missed that sunglass display.”
“Neither do I,” Neil muttered.
Katie paid and waved on her way out just as Neil noticed Lucy. “Can I help you?”
“No, thanks. I don’t see what I’m looking for.” She waggled her fingers and left the shop.
* * *
Katie waited for Lucy at the same bench where they’d met before they’d ventured into Seaside Gifts. Katie carried a bag from the place. Bill would be getting a few new items.
“Did you find anything?” Katie asked.
“No. I didn’t have time to properly search. But I found this.” Lucy held up the spare key.
“What’s that?”
“A spare key to the back door.”
Katie’s blue eyes grew large. “How do you know?”
“The tag says SPARE. I also checked. It opens and locks the back door to the storage room. There’s no alarm.”
“Don’t you think Neil will notice it missing?” Katie asked.
“No. The place was a mess. He won’t notice for a while. At least, I hope he won’t.”
Katie eyed her warily. “What are we going to do with it?”
“We’re coming back late tonight after everything is closed.”
“You plan to break into the store?”
“I don’t want to think of it that way. But yes. There’s a good chance the blackmail pictures are inside,” Lucy said.
“Can’t we just tell the police?” Katie asked. “Clemmons can conduct a search.”
“The police need probable cause to get a search warrant. We can’t just tell them we snuck into an old boat and eavesdropped on Ben and Vanessa, then followed a tip and snuck into Seaside Gifts. Even if we did, I’m not sure that’s sufficient to get a warrant and it will take time. We need to do it. I understand if you don’t want to come,” Lucy said.
“Don’t be an idiot! I know it’s not just the town festival that’s on your mind. It’s my neck you’re trying to save. Of course, I’m coming with you.”
Despite her resolve, Lucy was relieved to have Katie by her side. “Neil lives upstairs. We’ll have to be very, very stealthy.”
“I’ll bring the flashlights.”
CHAPTER 18
Fragrant aromas filled the kitchen later that evening. The lunch shift had long since ended, and they were preparing for their dinner service. Azad’s marinated lamb chops and simmering lentil soup made her mouth water.
“We hope it’s going to be busy this evening,” Sally said. She was standing at the waitress station and filling small glass vases with irises for the tables.
“They’re very pretty,” Lucy said.
“Angela picked them up from the farmers’ market earlier. She also purchased bunches of fresh parsley and left them in the kitchen. She wants you to remove the stems and wash the parsley. She said Azad needs it for the herb-stuffed bass he’s preparing as a seafood dish for tonight.”
“I assume my mother wants me to do it as soon as possible,” Lucy said.
Sally smiled and planted her hands on her slim hips. “Sorry. I offered, but Angela turned me away and said, ‘Properly preparing herbs is part of Lucy’s cooking lessons and she needs to work at it.’” Sally mimicked her mother’s accent and demeanor perfectly and they both laughed.
“She’s getting out of hand,” Lucy said.
“Getting?” Sally asked with a smile. “Angela hasn’t changed in all the years I’ve been working here.”
“Then I better go do my mother’s bidding.” Lucy had a long list of duties that included payroll in the office and inventory, but she knew better than to push her mother’s work aside. Plus, if Azad needed it for tonight’s seafood dish, then she’d best get to work.
Lucy turned toward the swinging doors that led into the kitchen, then halted as she remembered why she’d approached Sally in the first place. “Hey, before I go, where’s the reservation book?”
“Raffi had it last,” Sally said.
The thick, leather tome was like her father’s bible. If they had switched to a computerized system, which Lucy wanted, then she wouldn’t have to worry if her father misplaced it.
Sally trimmed an iris stem with scissors to fit in the short vase. “He did say we had six cancellations.”
“Six? That’s a lot. It must be the murder.”
“Tourists are finicky.”
“It’s not finicky. I don’t blame them. Who would want to put their families at risk? Not when there are other close Jersey shore towns. Plus, the beach festival was canceled.”
Sally set the scissors down. “It’s not your fault, Lucy.”
“I know, but still.”
“You had nothing to do with Archie’s murder. A tragedy like that could have happened anywhere.”
Sally placed the vases on a tray and started carrying them to the tables. Lucy jumped into action and helped her. It wouldn�
��t take long; then she’d head for the kitchen and tackle the parsley.
Each just-set table had a white linen tablecloth, sparkling glasses, a votive candle, and a vase of fresh-cut flowers. A handful of maple booths were tucked away in the corners like cozy couples. Cherry wainscoting gave the place a warm, family feel. The ocean shimmered beyond large bay windows, and seagulls soared above the water. Only a handful of lingering customers remained for a late lunch, and they drank coffee and ate baklava.
“The place always looks so beautiful right before a service,” Sally said.
It was beautiful, but Lucy’s thoughts were preoccupied. At her silence, Sally placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re really worried.”
Lucy met Sally’s gaze. “Kind of.”
“You’re investigating, Miss Sherlock, aren’t you?”
Lucy set out a sigh. “You know me too well.”
“Don’t worry. I can keep a secret around here.” Sally winked. “Unlike the rest of your family.”
Lucy felt overwhelming gratitude. And friendship. “Thanks, Sally.” Even when dealing with bad situations, Sally could always make her feel better. She’d also been waitressing at Kabob Kitchen for years and knew her family better than anyone.
“Now, about your investigation, anything I can do to help?” Sally asked.
Lucy didn’t hesitate. Sally was a favorite with the customers. Tall and willowy, she was chatty and quick to smile and she had an incredible memory and could recall facts about all the locals. Wedding anniversaries. Kids’ birthdays. High school reunions.
“Customers love you. Keep your ears open, and please let me know if you hear any gossip about Archie’s death and the return of his mysterious wife, Kristin,” Lucy said.
Sally gave her a quick hug. “You got it. Now go and prep the parsley before Angela gets back.”
Lucy slipped back to the kitchen. Dozens of bunches of parsley sat on the wooden prep table. The mingled aromas of fresh herbs and Azad’s lamb chops were redolent in the air. Her stomach grumbled. As soon as Azad finished cooking, she would tell him she had to taste the food before their first dinner customer walked in through the door.
It would take her a good amount of time to trim the parsley stems and wash the herbs. Lucy knew the parsley wasn’t just used for the herb-stuffed bass, but for other dishes as well. Azad used parsley and mint to make the popular appetizer, tabbouleh salad.