One Feta in the Grave

by Tina Kashian

  “They can’t deport Jose that quickly, can they?” Katie asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Bill said. “I don’t know how it works, especially if Jose’s charged with murder. I promise to keep you both updated.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “Lucy? Are you paying any attention?” Sally asked.

  Lucy blinked. “I’m sorry. Did you need something?” It was the following day, and Lucy was at the hostess stand seating customers for lunch service. There had been a steady flow of business, but her mind wasn’t on work. Instead, she kept reliving her visit to Jose’s home, and despite debating whether to tell Bill what she’d learned, she knew she’d done the right thing.

  Bill had left for work hours ago. He must have told Detective Clemmons everything by now, and the police would have to act. Would they arrest Jose for murder or for evading deportation or both?

  She felt ill, like a corkscrew was slowly twisting in her stomach.

  “I asked you if you could deliver the food to the table by the window with the baby in the high chair. I need to take an order for a large table of ten and I don’t want their food to get cold,” Sally said.

  “Oh, sorry,” Lucy said.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just . . .”

  Sally lowered her voice. “Murder business? I know you, and I know that look.”

  Lucy met Sally’s eyes. “You’re right. It is murder business. Only my conscience is bugging me.”

  “How?”

  Lucy lowered her voice. “I wonder if I made a mistake by telling the police something . . . something that could ruin a lot of lives.”

  Sally squeezed her arm. “Go with your gut, Lucy. It’s hasn’t failed the town in the past. I believe in you.”

  A warm glow flowed through her. She was reminded time and time again what good friends she had in Ocean Crest. “Thanks, Sally.”

  Sally gave her a nudge. “Now go fetch my table’s food.”

  Lucy let out a deep breath, and loaded a tray with plates. She hurried to deliver the food and was rewarded with a giggling baby in the high chair. She was happy the restaurant was running smoothly. Butch and Azad worked in harmony. Sally and Emma took orders and delivered food seamlessly. Customers were content. But Lucy couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong.

  The restaurant’s phone rang. Lucy hurried to answer the landline by the cash register. “Kebab Kitchen.”

  “It’s Katie.”

  She could tell by her friend’s voice that it was bad news. The knot in her stomach returned.

  “Jose’s been arrested for murder.”

  Oh, no. It was what she’d feared. “What about the others? Ben? Harold? Neil? Even Rita?” Had Clemmons overlooked the longtime locals and gone for the illegal immigrant? Nothing would surprise her.

  “Ben had an alibi that checked out.”

  “Who?”

  “He was seen at the Pussy Cat picking up Vanessa by one of the club’s workers.”

  “By ‘one of the club’s workers’ do you mean a fellow stripper?” Lucy asked.

  “A lady who goes by the name of Pinky Pie.”

  Good grief. “And Clemmons believes her?”

  “Yes. There’s one more thing. The State Police lab forensic results came in. Neil’s gun, the one that he fired at you, is not the murder weapon.”

  That would help clear Neil as a suspect. It was looking worse and worse for Jose. Lucy’s eyes closed and she recalled Maria’s happy expression when she’d seen her and talked about the baby.

  Baby Enrique. He wouldn’t know his father now.

  It was all so confusing. She should be happy if she’d provided the information that resulted in finding the murderer. That’s what she’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? For the killer to be arrested, for everything to return to normal, and for the beach festival to resume.

  Then why did she feel like she’d done something terribly wrong?

  * * *

  Lucy’s running shoes pounded on the boards. There was only one place she could think clearly and without interruption. Her jetty overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

  To avoid questions from her parents and the rest of the staff at Kebab Kitchen as to why she needed to leave before lunch service was over, she’d claimed she had to run an important errand. She’d changed into her running clothes in the storage room, driven to the boardwalk entrance, and had headed out from there. She motored at a slow pace as her mind kept turning to Jose’s arrest. Suspects ran through her mind in pace with her feet.

  Ben and Vanessa’s alibi, Pinky Pie. Neil’s gun and his dreams of surfing grandeur and his debts to his girlfriend for his expensive surfboard. A spurned Rita who not only discovered her engagement ring was a fake, but that her fiancé had been married. A longtime business rivalry with Harold. She felt like she was missing something, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Two seagulls squawked and fought over the remains of a hot dog that had missed the trash can. The shops blurred by. The custard stand, the two pizza shops, the tattoo parlor. The bright yellow-and-blue boardwalk tramcar passed with its speaker blaring, “Watch the tramcar, please!” On the beach, people made the trek with their beach carts and chairs toward the ocean to find the perfect spot. Children frolicked in the surf and built sandcastles. She even spotted Kristin sunbathing in her beach chair.

  “Hello, Lucy!” Madame Vega called out and waved from outside her psychic parlor as she puffed on a cigarette.

  Lucy jogged over. “Hello. Busy day?”

  The woman sighed and shook her head. “It’s not in the cards. Are you coming for the reading?”

  She wasn’t, but because the hopeful expression on the woman’s face, Lucy didn’t want to disappoint her. She had promised to stop by for another tarot card reading, but she’d never had the time.

  Maybe she can help.

  Lucy didn’t know where that thought came from. It’s not like she believed in the tarot cards, but her first visit had been eerily close to the truth.

  “Sure,” Lucy said. “I can use some advice.”

  Madame Vega put out her cigarette in a soda bottle that had been cut in half to serve as an ashtray. Lucy followed her inside the room and sat at the velvet-draped table. Candles burned low and cast shadows on the tablecloth. The woman reached for her blue turban with its large fake sapphire, covered her graying curls, then started shuffling the cards.

  “What is your question?” Madame Vega asked.

  Lucy had half a dozen, but she knew the one that was troubling her the most. “My conscious is troubling me. Did I do the right thing, even if it means a man will go to jail?”

  Madame Vega’s brown eyes snapped to hers. “A big burden.”

  “Yeah. A big one.”

  “Let’s see what the cards say.” She shuffled the cards and spread them out in a fan on the tablecloth. “Just like last time. Put your hopes, feelings, and desires into the cards.”

  Lucy ran her hands across the cards and thought about her troubles and the nagging questions that she hoped could been answered. She stacked the cards and handed them back.

  “Last time you had your cards read you had questions about Archie’s death. I assume that’s whom you are asking about?” Madame Vega asked.

  “It is.”

  Madame flipped over the Nine of Pentacles card—a woman holding a bird in a garden with ripe fruit for picking—and her lips drew in thoughtfully. “The past card is not a surprise,” she said. “Your hard work has paid off and you’ve accomplished a lot in life. You are an attorney, after all. But you must keep up the hard work and focus.” Madame Vega tapped the card.

  What Madame said could pertain to almost anyone. It didn’t help Lucy with her guilt over Jose’s arrest or answer the nagging questions that still persisted.

  “Let’s see your present. The Page of Wands.” She flipped over a card to show a man gazing up into the sky. “A critical decision awaits you. Perhaps it involves a man
? Perhaps a burgeoning romance awaits on your horizon? You are receiving messages, but will you listen? Will you balance impulse with practicality and take a risk?”

  The medium’s words hit Lucy square in the gut. This advice was closer to the truth, was similar to what had happened at her last reading. It was as if Madame Vega had crawled inside her head and read her mind.

  Yes, Azad was definitely in her present. Lucy was receiving messages from him—clear messages if she considered their heated kiss. She was also at the crux of making a big decision, and balancing logic with her hormones was a part of it. Could she take a leap of faith and encourage their burgeoning romance?

  “Your future.” She flipped over the final card. “Goodness. The Death card. It doesn’t always signify loss of life, but perhaps it does in this instance. Archie’s murder was a tragedy for the town. I vividly remember the day. Do be careful.”

  Lucy had already asked the medium about that day. Madame Vega had been working on the boardwalk, but she’d said she’d been busy with customers and hadn’t seen anything. Still, Lucy felt compelled to ask again.

  “You didn’t see anything suspicious the day Archie was shot?” Lucy asked.

  Madame Vega shook her head and the gem in her turban glinted in the candlelight. “No. I was sitting here reading palms. It was a busy day with the tourists. But the murder has troubled everyone. I feel bad for his wife.”

  Lucy’s head snapped up. “His wife? You mean Archie’s wife, Kristin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you met her?”

  “I have.”

  Lucy struggled to recall if Madame Vega had been in the church for the funeral or the reception that had followed, but she came up blank. “You mean at the funeral?”

  Madame’s wrinkled brow furrowed even more. “Oh, no. I hate funerals and avoid them. The spirits of the dead may harm my ability to read palms or draw the right cards.”

  A slight hum ran through Lucy. “Then when?” According to Kristin, she hadn’t stepped foot in Ocean Crest until the funeral.

  “She is a big believer in the cards and she came to me to have her cards read.”

  “When?”

  “About two weeks before her husband was killed.”

  Two weeks.

  Oh my God. Had Kristin lied about her indifference regarding Archie’s affair with Rita? Had she discovered that her husband had proposed to another woman, purchased an engagement ring, while he was still married to Kristin?

  Had that sent her over the edge? She’d had the perfect alibi so far. Even Detective Clemmons had confirmed it.

  Until now.

  Kristin could have slipped out of her city office. New York City was just shy of a three-hour drive from Ocean Crest in South Jersey via the Garden State Parkway. It was possible to appear in both locales within the same day. It would have been easy to sneak into Ocean Crest unnoticed when the entire town was busy with an influx of tourists for the beach festival. Easy to call Archie on his cell and convince him to meet her under the boardwalk, shoot him, then blend into the crowd and disappear back to New York with no one the wiser.

  It was the perfect crime. Except for one glitch. A quirky boardwalk medium.

  Lucy leaned forward and clasped Madame Vega’s hand. “Please don’t tell anyone what we’ve discussed.” Not until she could get a hold of Bill and tell him everything.

  “Have I helped ease your conscious and answered your question?”

  “Oh, yes.” Lucy released her hand and reached for her purse.

  Kristin was the killer, not Jose. “You said she first had her cards read two weeks ago. Have you seen her since?”

  “No, but she has an appointment for today.”

  “Today?”

  Madame Vega pushed back her voluminous sleeve to glance at her watch. Lucy thought it odd that a woman who claimed she could predict the future even had one.

  “At one o’clock,” Madame Vega said. “She should be here any minute.”

  Lucy gasped. “Any minute?”

  Someone cleared their throat, and Lucy spun around in her seat just as a shadow blocked what little sunlight lit the darkened room.

  Kristin stood in the entrance. Dressed in a white beach cover-up, shorts, and high-heeled flip-flops, she must have just left the beach.

  “Come inside, Mrs. Kincaid,” Madame Vega said. “Lucy and I are finished here.”

  Madame Vega had no idea how critical her information was. She hadn’t attended the funeral where Kristin claimed she’d never set foot in Ocean Crest before the funeral. She didn’t know.

  Lucy swallowed hard. She needed to tell Bill. She also needed a poker face now more than ever. “Hello, Mrs. Kincaid,” Lucy said.

  For a pulse-pounding moment, both women stared at each other. In that split second, comprehension dawned on Kristin’s face as she realized that Lucy had just learned the truth. Kristin’s eyes narrowed, then she turned and made a beeline out the door.

  CHAPTER 29

  Kristin took off like a shot down the boardwalk. First shocked by learning that Kristin was the murderer, then from having her suddenly appear, Lucy stepped away from Madame Vega’s table only to have the velvet tablecloth snag on the Velcro pocket of her running shorts. The tablecloth crashed to the floor followed by a flurry of tarot cards.

  “Stop!” Lucy yelled after Kristin.

  “What’s going on?” Madame Vega asked, her voice taking on a high-pitched tone.

  “Kristin killed Archie! Call the police!” With that final statement, Lucy took off running.

  Panic rioted within Lucy. She couldn’t let Kristin out of her sight. Not until the police arrived, cuffed her, and read her her Miranda rights.

  Lucy sprinted out of the medium’s room, then halted, momentarily blinded. It took precious seconds for her eyes to adjust from the dim lighting inside Madame Vega’s enclave, to the bright sunlight on the boardwalk. Looking left, then right, she didn’t see Kristin anywhere through the throng of people and bicycles on the boardwalk.

  How could she move so fast in those ridiculous high-heeled flip-flops?

  Then she heard an outraged cry as a man picked up a woman off the boardwalk. Kristin apparently had rammed into the couple and without stopping to check on her casualties, teetered away fast. She was at least a block away.

  Lucy had the advantage of running shoes and adrenaline, and she took off in hot pursuit. Legs pumping and chest heaving, she gained on Kristin.

  Kristin glanced back, noticed Lucy was catching up, and kicked off her flip-flops. Head down, she picked up her pace, barging recklessly through the crowd. She crashed into a family leaving a refreshment stand carrying armfuls of popcorn and french fries. Popcorn and hot fries flew everywhere. The couple’s child cried out at the lost food.

  Other people shouted in anger, but Kristin ignored them, her arms and legs flying as she kept going.

  Lucy slipped on a french fry, fell, and banged her knee on the boardwalk. She ignored the pain, sprang to her feet, and kept going. She raced past the Gray sisters’ shop, Harold’s store, and spotted Neil smoking outside Seaside Gifts. The custard stand flew by, followed by a burger joint and a large, flashing neon root beer sign.

  “Stop!” Lucy shouted.

  Kristin didn’t stop. She barreled her way into a group of bicycles. A surrey, with a child in the front, swerved to the right and almost ran into the side rail to avoid a collision. The child repeatedly rang the surrey bell. A bicyclist cursed as he caught himself just before crashing his bike into another rider.

  Kristin kept going and knocked over a trash can in an attempt to stop her pursuer, but Lucy hurdled over the obstacle like a high school track star.

  All down the boardwalk, people yelped and shouted as Kristin ran wild. But Lucy was determined.

  As she neared a street exit on the boardwalk, Lucy could tell that Kristin was starting to struggle. She grasped her side and slowed to catch her breath.

  Lucy, on the other hand, felt good.
The weeks of jogging the boards and the beach had paid off. She could keep running, whereas Kristin looked winded and exhausted. The color had drained from her face and she had a wild panicked look in her eyes.

  I’ve got her now, Lucy thought.

  What would Kristin do next? Head for the street and her car? She had to know the police would pursue her. If they couldn’t stop her in town, the Ocean Crest police could radio the next town and she would eventually be caught and . . .

  What the heck!

  At the last moment, Kristin darted inside a fudge and salt water taffy shop. As soon as Lucy set foot inside, she heard the screeching. “Are you crazy, lady?!”

  A candy maker in a stained apron who’d been wrapping taffy, stood with her hands on her hips staring at the candy scattered across the floor.

  “Sorry! Which way did she go?” Lucy asked.

  The woman pointed to the side door.

  “Call the police!” Lucy shouted as she sprinted out the door.

  Rather than leave the boardwalk, Kristin had turned and headed back the way Lucy had chased her.

  Where was she headed now? Were they going to run up and down the boardwalk until the cops showed up or until one of them collapsed in exhaustion?

  Then she saw it. Or rather, she heard the recorded message blaring from the speakers.

  “Watch the tramcar, please!”

  Lucy registered Kristin’s next move a second before Kristin hopped onto the back of the moving tramcar.

  Crap.

  Lucy pumped her legs and ran after the tramcar. She could see the young, rear attendant arguing with Kristin, but Kristin ignored the girl. Clutching the seats, Kristin made her way to the front.

  Lucy reached the back of the tramcar and grabbed onto the metal frame with her right hand. Her legs pumped double-time to catch up to the running vehicle, and for a moment, she was suspended—one leg on the floor rubber mat, the other dangling in midair.

  “Watch the tramcar, please!”

  The attendant finally noticed Lucy, and started shouting just as Lucy gained a foothold and pulled herself up to stand inside the tramcar.

  “Miss! You can’t do that. You have to board at a stop!” the attendant called out, her face pale.