One Feta in the Grave

by Tina Kashian

  “Okay. Thanks for letting me know,” Lucy said.

  She headed for the mayor’s table, pad in hand. “Hi, Mayor Huckerby. Mr. Hawkins. What would you two like?”

  The two men looked up. “Hi, Lucy,” the mayor said.

  Ben smiled. “What do you recommend?”

  “The hummus bar as an appetizer. The pita is served hot from the oven and I’ll get that for you. Lamb gyros with homemade tzatziki sauce are our lunch special for today, and grilled cod is our fish option.”

  “The gyros sound delicious,” the mayor said. “I’d also like coffee.”

  “I’ll take the same,” Ben said as he handed Lucy their menus.

  Lucy tucked the menus under her arm. “Are either of you getting nervous about the upcoming election?”

  “No,” the mayor said.

  “A bit,” Ben admitted.

  “But you are running unopposed. Has someone stepped up to run for the position?” Lucy asked.

  “No. But things can change,” Ben said.

  “What things?” Lucy asked.

  “Nothing is a hundred percent guaranteed in politics, is it?” Ben asked.

  “That’s true,” the mayor said. “But Ben is an upstanding citizen of Ocean Crest. I have no doubt he will be good for this town. Don’t you agree, Lucy?”

  Lucy gazed from one man to the other. “Of course.”

  If you don’t count a possible burglary, blackmail pictures with a stripper, and murder.

  She left to get their drinks, tucked their order in the cook’s wheel for Butch, and watched the two men from behind the waitress station. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen them together. They were talking at Archie’s funeral reception. Did they have more in common than a political agenda?

  They could be friends but was there more there?

  Did the mayor know about Ben’s relationship with Vanessa? If he did, was the mayor a customer of the Pussy Cat, too? She couldn’t imagine Thomas Huckerby at a strip joint, but then again, she’d never place Ben there either. Ben appeared straitlaced with his blue, button-down shirt, khakis, and neatly clipped hair. He’d owned the barbershop in town since she was a teenager.

  If there was one thing she’d learned since returning to town and stumbling upon a body . . . or two . . . is that not everyone was as innocent or guilty as they appeared.

  Could Ben be a cold-blooded killer?

  Lucy’s thoughts continued as she strode into the kitchen to fetch a pot of coffee. She noticed the coffee urn was low. They were also out of coffee filters. She hurried to the storage room where a large box of coffee filters was stashed on a low metal shelf. Jose’s toolbox was directly in front of the shelf. She started to push it aside when she noticed his cell phone on top of the toolbox. He must have accidentally left his phone when he’d stopped by this morning.

  Lucy had wanted to visit his home and personally say thanks to Maria for the flan and the braised chicken and to deliver some food as well. Now she had an excuse. She’d visit and deliver the food right after the lunch shift. Slipping the cell phone into her back pocket, she grabbed the box of coffee filters and went back to work.

  * * *

  After a successful lunch shift, Lucy placed dolma, stuffed tomatoes and peppers in meat and rice, in a container, then searched for her father. She planned to tell him she was running an errand and would be back soon.

  “I’ll stay,” Raffi said when Lucy found him in the office. He was sifting through time sheets, and a pencil was tucked behind his ear.

  “You sure, Dad?”

  “I want to work on payroll.”

  “I’m supposed to do that now.”

  Raffi swiped a hand across his balding pate. “I know. But I don’t want to go home just yet. It will give me something to do.”

  Lucy sucked her cheeks in and studied him. “Are you fighting with Mom?”

  “She’s nagging me.”

  “About what?”

  “She wants me to drive her to Philadelphia for another one of Cooking Kurt’s book signings. He’s also doing a cooking demonstration.”

  Lucy struggled not to smile. Lucy had taken her mother to one of the celebrity’s chef’s book signings at Pages Bookstore not long ago. It seemed he had another cookbook out and was capitalizing on his fame.

  “I think you should take her,” Lucy said.

  “That man is a fraud. I’ve never believed he’s written a recipe in any of his cookbooks.”

  Her father was probably right. But what harm could it do to take her mother? Her dad could score big points with her by driving her. For all her fierce independence, her mother had never learned how to drive.

  “You could make a day out of it in the city and please Mom at the same time.”

  “I don’t like driving that far and I don’t like the city,” he grumbled.

  Lucy knew that all too well. Her parents had rarely visited her for the eight years she’d worked in Philly. Even though Center City Philadelphia was only ninety miles—one and a half hours—from Ocean Crest. Crossing the Delaware River via the Ben Franklin Bridge was like traveling to another country for her parents. They’d always expected her to come home.

  “If you don’t want to drive you could take a bus. I think you should go,” Lucy said.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I took her to his last book signing because you wouldn’t. It’s your turn.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I suppose we could make a day of it in the city. It’s been years since we’ve toured Independence Hall, and I want to visit the new Constitution Center.” Raffi’s gaze dropped to the take-out box in her hands. “What have you got there? Food for Katie and Bill?”

  “No. It’s for Jose’s wife, Maria. She’s sent me flan and chicken. Both were delicious. Jose left his cell phone behind so I figured I’d return it and deliver this food as a thank-you,” she said.

  Raffi nodded in approval. “Go on. I’m happy to finish here,” he said, indicating the time sheets in his hand.

  “Okay. Thanks, Dad.” She placed a kiss on his cheek, grabbed a bag of cat treats, and headed out the door.

  She shook the bag. It didn’t take long before Gadoo showed up. “Hello there. I told you I’d get more treats.” He wound a figure eight around her legs and meowed. She scratched him under his chin and he purred. She poured out a handful of treats, checked his food and water bowls, then headed to her car with the take-out containers. She started her car and headed north, to a small development where Jose lived. She’d pulled his address from one of his invoices. Turning down a narrow street, she parked in front of a tan Colonial with blue shutters. The lawn was well-kept and a large flowerpot with pink and white begonias added a splash of color. Jose’s truck was in the driveway.

  She parked in the street, then headed for the front door with the food. She knocked and waited.

  No answer.

  Maybe they were in the backyard on this pleasant evening, she thought, heading around the side of the house to the back door. No one was in the backyard. The delicious smell of burgers wafted from the grill. A clothesline full of laundry blew in the breeze. She stepped around the clothesline and pushed aside a red hoodie, then froze.

  Something caught her eye. The hoodie had a torn pocket and piece of fabric was missing. Her mind spun back as she recalled the piece of fabric she’d found under the rolling security gate of Seaside Gifts the night of the first burglary.

  The police had never found the first burglar.

  Her breath stalled in her throat as her mind raced.

  Was Jose the burglar, not Ben?

  But why?

  Why would Jose break into Archie’s shop? Jose had been doing electrical work for Archie. Had he accidently torn his hoodie while working at the shop? Or was there more?

  Was he desperate for money, and he’d discovered an easy way inside? It didn’t make sense. Jose had a good job. He was in demand. It had to be something else. But what?

  Had Archie been bla
ckmailing Jose?

  It wasn’t a far stretch. Archie had already been blackmailing Ben. Archie had wanted Ben in his pocket as mayor in order to approve his mercantile licenses.

  But what could Archie have wanted from Jose? Her gut told her Jose was somehow involved, and her instincts had never led her wrong in the past.

  Whatever the reason, she was holding evidence that could prove that Jose had broken into Archie’s shop. If he was the burglar, then he’d lied to the police. He’d lied to her.

  Another thought followed, even more frightening.

  Could Jose be the murderer?

  The sound of the back door opening made her jump. She dropped the red hoodie and whirled around. She should have expected it, but the sudden, male voice frightened her just the same.

  Jose loomed on the back step. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

  CHAPTER 27

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You broke into Archie’s shop,” Lucy said.

  Jose’s eyes lowered to the red hoodie at her feet. “I should have tossed that out.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Jose stepped down from the back steps. “It’s not that simple. You know I worked in Archie’s store.”

  “Yes, I know. But the security gates would have been open, not closed. If you snagged your clothing, then the gates would have had to have been lowered almost all the way.”

  His features screwed into a painful twist. “I never meant for it to happen.”

  “For what to happen?” she pressed. Would he confess to burglary, murder, or both?

  “I told Neil I had to check on the electrical box I’d installed for Archie, and I jammed the lock on the rolling security gate. I returned that night and used a jack to raise the rolling gate, crawled inside the store, then unjammed the lock.”

  Lucy felt as if her breath was cut off. It made sense. She’d wondered how the burglar had managed to get past the locked security gate. Even a jack wouldn’t have worked to raise the heavy rolling gates if the gate had been properly locked from inside.

  She wanted to flee, but she also knew she didn’t stand a chance if he decided to pursue her. He was much bigger and faster. She wouldn’t make it around the corner of the yard.

  Instead, she looked him square in the eye and asked the question that had been pestering her. “Why?”

  “Archie had something on me. I needed to get it.”

  “What was it?” she asked.

  His brow furrowed, and something flickered in his eyes, something deep and disturbing. His voice lowered, and she strained to hear. “I’m illegal.”

  Oh my God.

  He was an illegal alien. His words were like a punch to the gut. She knew Jose was from the Dominican Republic and his wife, Maria, was from Mexico. She’d always assumed they had green cards or work visas.

  “Archie was holding that over you?” she asked.

  “It’s not what you think. I didn’t walk across a Texas border or swim here from a leaky boat. I arrived with a legal green card years ago. When Archie moved to Ocean Crest, he hired me to do some electrical work. One day, he overheard me talking on my cell that my green card was up for renewal. Archie told me he’d helped a relative not only renew his green card but apply for permanent citizenship. He said he’d help me renew mine as well. I believed him.”

  “He lied?”

  “He claimed he filled out the forms to renew my green card, but he said the renewal was denied based on a technicality. No big deal, he’d said. More documents were needed, and I supplied them. Archie was supposed to reapply, but he never did. All the notices were sent to him.”

  “He set you up?”

  “I had no idea. Months later he showed me an order to be removed by Immigration Services. I’m to be deported.”

  She couldn’t imagine how he’d felt. Betrayed. Frightened. Desperate. “What did you do?”

  “Things got worse. Archie started blackmailing me. He demanded I work for him for free. In exchange, he claimed he wouldn’t turn me in as an illegal alien. He grew bolder over time, too. Soon after, he insisted I work for free for his ‘friends,’ who turned out to be Archie’s out-of-town suppliers. His suppliers provided discounted merchandise for Archie’s store. The electrical work took up most of my time, but I had no choice. I live in fear of being deported.”

  Jose’s story was heartbreaking. Archie had been a true cad. “Why break into Seaside Gifts? What were you after?” Lucy asked.

  “My expired green card and all the denied paperwork, including the final notice with the deportation date. I had to retrieve the documents before someone else found them. As far as I know, Archie’s nephew, Neil, doesn’t know. No one must know.”

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “No. As soon as I heard the police sirens, I ran.”

  “What about Maria? Does she know about this?” Maria was far along in her pregnancy. Was she illegal as well?

  “She has no idea. Her green card is up to date, and she has a good job at the school.”

  “Why haven’t you told her?”

  His face fell and he shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth. Maria’s due in less than a month, and she’s been so happy. She’s been picking out paint colors and linens for the baby’s room and cleaning out the house. She calls it nesting. How can I destroy her happiness? And worse, I know that if I tell her she will get very upset. How might that affect the pregnancy, and our baby?”

  Lucy didn’t want to think about those kinds of possibilities. Maria would be devastated. Her husband and the father of her child could be deported. What then?

  Archie had to know about the baby, but that hadn’t stopped him from hurting Jose. Could Archie have been so mean-hearted?

  Yes. If it meant lining his pockets.

  Archie had been blackmailing the mayor-to-be Ben for potential political favors. He’d used Jose as a source of income. The electrician provided unpaid services for Archie and Archie’s business associates. In exchange, Archie had received extremely cheap merchandise for his store. The more she discovered about Archie, the less likable he seemed.

  But still, the man didn’t deserve to be shot under the boardwalk.

  “Getting the immigration papers was the only reason you broke into Archie’s store?” Lucy asked.

  Jose’s eyes blazed. “Yes! I didn’t want to steal anything.”

  “It worked out for you that Archie was shot,” she said. “You were on the boardwalk for the beach festival that day. I also remember you’d said you had work to do in Archie’s store.” She could be facing a killer. Jose had motive and opportunity.

  “I swear I didn’t kill him.” At her silence, he stepped forward. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

  How could she not? How could she? She’d promised to tell Bill everything. Heck, she’d promised not to do anything risky, only to keep her ears and eyes open.

  But this didn’t count. She hadn’t come here intending to stick her nose in someone else’s business. She’d come here to return Jose’s cell phone that he’d left behind at the restaurant and deliver a meal. Facing a possible killer hadn’t been her plan.

  So what should she do now?

  “Lucy?”

  They both whirled to see Maria through the back door screen. She stepped outside, and Jose rushed over to hold out his hand and help his wife down the back steps. She wore a maternity dress and held her swollen stomach as she walked.

  She smiled, her pretty brown eyes warm with welcome. “It’s so nice to see you again, Lucy! It’s been a long time,” Maria said.

  Relief swept through Lucy. Jose wouldn’t harm her in front of his wife. “Hi, Maria. It’s good to see you.”

  Maria smoothed her brown hair. “I wasn’t expecting you. I would have put on some makeup and prepared something to eat.”

  “You look lovely, and I was just stopping by to return this to Jose.” Lucy pulled a cell phone out of her back pocket
and handed it to him. “He left this at the restaurant on top of his toolbox. I also wanted to thank you for the flan and braised chicken. It was delicious. I have dolma for you both. It’s tonight’s dinner special.” Lucy handed Maria the take-out containers.

  Maria’s face beamed. “A day I don’t have to cook is a treat. Would you like to come inside?”

  Lucy’s gaze darted to Jose’s. “No, thank you. I have to return to the restaurant. Another time? I’d love to catch up. Jose says the nursery is coming along.”

  “It is. And another time would be lovely. My maternity leave starts next week and it would be good to have company.”

  Lucy forced a smile and waved. “Next week then.” As she hurried to her car, her mind raced with what she’d learned. She didn’t think Jose was a killer, but could she be sure? He had the strongest motive so far.

  Deportation.

  Leaving behind a pregnant wife.

  Even Lucy might be driven to kill a blackmailer under those circumstances.

  * * *

  Telling Bill was difficult. Lucy knew he was obligated to act on the information, but a part of her wanted to protect Jose and Maria. On her drive home, she’d argued the pros and cons with herself and had come to the conclusion that she trusted Bill as much as Katie. He would know what to do with the information.

  “Thank you for telling me, Lucy,” Bill said.

  “Poor Maria,” Katie said.

  Katie had brewed fresh iced tea and had carried out a pitcher and glasses to her back deck. Katie joined Lucy on a two-seater deck swing, and Bill was in a patio chair across from them. It was his afternoon off, but Lucy knew he’d have to go into the station soon and reveal what she’d discovered to Clemmons.

  “Will they arrest Jose?” Lucy asked.

  Bill let out a slow breath and picked a stone out of the tread of his shoe before answering. “It’s likely. Clemmons will have to call immigration today as well.”

  “Today?” Lucy’s stomach bottomed out. She didn’t think it would happen that fast. Poor Maria. She couldn’t imagine her distress and hoped it wouldn’t affect her pregnancy.