On the Lamb

by Tina Kashian

  They began jogging back and passing all the shops they had seen on their way during the tramcar ride. This time, Madame Vega had a customer in her salon. She sat at a table and was reading a man’s palm, not tarot cards.

  “Madame’s a jack-of-all-trades, isn’t she?” Katie said.

  “I don’t know about palm reading, but she’s skilled with tarot cards.”

  “Maybe I need to see her to talk about Bill. She might have insight on when he’ll be promoted to detective,” Katie said.

  They came to Haven Candies. Sarah was outside handing out fudge samples again. Lucy was determined to avoid the loaded tray. Custard and fudge and she’d have to run every day this week.

  “Look! Taffy.”

  Lucy’s gaze followed to where Katie pointed. The saltwater taffy machine was pulling taffy like a large, yellow elastic band in the window of the candy shop. Lucy wondered what flavor it was.

  Lucy waved to Sarah, then headed inside the candy shop. Melanie was arranging boxes of saltwater taffy on a table.

  “Hi, Lucy. Hi, Katie,” Melanie said with a smile.

  “What kind of taffy are you pulling in the window?”

  “Banana taffy. You want to try a piece when it’s done?”

  “We just stopped by for a quick hello. But we also have some questions. We heard rumors about Gilbert Lubinski,” Lucy said.

  Melanie slipped a hand inside her apron pocket and worried her bottom lip. “What kind of rumors?” Melanie asked.

  “Rumors that Gilbert wasn’t just a landlord, but that he lent money to locals in town. Have you heard of anyone borrowing money from Gilbert?”

  “No.”

  Lucy studied Melanie’s expression carefully. “Melanie, have you ever borrowed money from Gilbert?”

  “No! He was my landlord. Nothing else.” When Lucy and Katie stayed silent, Melanie rushed on. “I would never borrow money from that horrible man. He was unfair to deal with as a landlord; I couldn’t imagine him as a lender.” She shivered, as if the thought repulsed her.

  Her reaction seemed sincere. Yet Melanie must have had trouble paying her rent if she was arguing with Gilbert about raised rent at the bonfire. Lucy knew firsthand that owning a business was tough work, and that there were months a business didn’t earn a profit. Certainly, the winter months at the Jersey shore weren’t as profitable as the summer season. And if a business had a hard summer due to weather, a lag in tourism, or any other factor, it would be doubly difficult.

  Lucy picked up a box of chocolate nut fudge. “I know you’re busy. I’ll take one of these for my mom. She loves your fudge.”

  “It’s on the house.” When Lucy opened her mouth to protest, Melanie pressed the box into Lucy’s arms. “I insist.”

  “Then you have to visit Kebab Kitchen soon for baklava.”

  Melanie smiled. “I look forward to it.”

  As soon as they returned to Katie’s house, they filled large glasses of ice water. Lucy leaned on the laminate counter in Katie’s kitchen as she sipped.

  “We’re no closer to finding any leads. We didn’t find anything incriminating in Kevin Crowley’s trailer, and Melanie had no idea about Gilbert’s unethical lending habits. So where do we go next?” Lucy asked.

  “Sophia Lubinski,” Katie said.

  “The wife on the verge of divorcing Gilbert?” Lucy asked.

  “She doesn’t have to go through the trouble of a nasty divorce now, does she?” Katie pointed out.

  “True. But Bill said Gilbert didn’t have a life insurance policy.”

  “If the divorce wasn’t final, then chances are Sophia inherited Gilbert’s share of the condos,” Katie said.

  Lucy had already considered this, but something else was bothering her. Sophia’s motive needed to be fleshed out. “Not necessarily. There could have been a prenuptial marital agreement preventing her from getting her hands on those condos.”

  “Even so, we may be overlooking another motive. Maybe Sophia hated Gilbert enough to want to kill him. It’s not that far-fetched. Bill always says spouses and significant others are often the killers. Columbo and Matlock had plenty of spousal murderers, too.”

  Lucy chuckled. “Good to know television backs up the real cops.” Before Katie could protest, she said, “but you’re right. We should question Sophia.”

  “Great minds think alike. We need to find out where she’ll be and corner her when she’s not expecting us. Any ideas?” Katie asked.

  Lucy tapped her foot. “My landlady might know her schedule. She was her aunt-in-law, right?”

  “It’s worth a try,” Katie said. “But you’d better make sure Gadoo isn’t around when you ask her. For all her dog’s bark and bravado, your cat’s claws just might make mincemeat of him.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It turned out Lucy had to wait to talk to Eloisa. Her landlady had an active social calendar—much more active than Lucy’s. She wasn’t home all day and Lucy had to return to work.

  After a busy lunch service, the dinner shift started steady. Guests began tumbling in and didn’t let up for hours. Lucy helped seat customers and then walked around the dining room, stopping at each table to be sure all the guests were enjoying their meals. Azad had prepared sole stuffed with Mediterranean herbs, along with rice pilaf and freshly baked pita bread. And Butch had added tan, a cold yogurt drink, to the dinner menu.

  After the dinner service had slowed and only a few customers remained drinking coffee and enjoying pieces of baklava, Lucy walked into the storage room with a clipboard in hand.

  “The dreaded inventory?” Azad asked as he glanced up from where he’d been searching the stainless-steel shelves for an item.

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “It’s Saturday. I have to finish taking inventory so that I can prepare our ordering on Sunday and have everything ready for our suppliers bright and early Monday morning.”

  His lips curled in a slow, sexy smile. “How about we go out sometime next week as a reward? We can hit Mac’s Irish Pub.”

  Lucy’s pulse pounded at his smile and his offer. “Mac’s sounds great.”

  He plucked a big bag of rice from the top shelf like it was thistledown. Her gaze traveled to the muscles in his biceps. Azad had always worked out, but he seemed to be in better shape now than when he was in college.

  “I’ll leave you to your fun task.” He winked, then returned to the kitchen.

  Lucy scanned the rows of shelves. Just great. She disliked inventory and estimated it would take at least a couple of hours to complete tonight.

  The office door in the corner of the storage room opened, and Raffi Berberian stepped out. He smiled when he spotted her and came close.

  “I thought you’d gone home by now, Dad,” Lucy said.

  “I was finishing up the insurance paperwork.”

  “I’m supposed to do that now.”

  “Nonsense. Your mother and I are easing into retirement. We aren’t ready for a nursing home.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Lucy protested.

  He took off his reading glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his shirt. “I know, sweetheart.” He glanced at the clipboard in her hand. “Do you need help with the inventory?”

  The faster she got out of here, the sooner she’d be able to question Eloisa about Sophia’s whereabouts. But she was the manager now, and inventory was a big part of her job. “I can manage.”

  His eyebrows drew together and he leveled an all-too-familiar parental look of concern her way. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s Saturday night. Don’t you have a date with Azad?”

  Stubborn? When it came to stubborn, Raffi Berberian’s picture should be displayed by the word’s definition in the dictionary. Rather than argue, Lucy bit her tongue. “No. We are going out another night.”

  “Ah. You just want to go home.”

  “I do. I could go home a lot faster if we used an electronic inventory system.”

  “We talked about this, Lucy. Our system works just f
ine. I did it this way for thirty years,” he said.

  She swallowed her frustration and aimed for a calm and logical tone. “Times have changed, Dad. Taking notes by hand and then cross-referencing everything with our supplier’s orders is archaic and time-consuming. Inventory and ordering can be completed simultaneously with a computer system. It would be so much easier to carry my iPad instead of this clipboard.”

  Raffi shook his head. “If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.”

  “Oh, please. You said that about replacing our old, wooden storage room shelving with this new stainless-steel shelving and it all worked out. Adding dining room ceiling fans worked out, too.”

  “The shelving took too long to install. And installing ceiling fans was a much smaller job than changing our entire inventory and ordering system.”

  Granted, the shelving had taken longer than she’d expected. But it wasn’t her fault. The factory that made the shelving had gone on strike, and then the local handyman she’d hired to install the shelves had thrown out his back. It had been nearly impossible to find another one during the summer season. Thankfully, Azad had stepped up and put the shelving together. It had been another way he’d shown her how much he cared.

  “Dad, it will save countless hours. You entrusted me with managing the place, so why do we have to butt heads over every little change?”

  Raffi’s dark, earnest eyes searched hers. “Fine. Get some estimates. I promise to consider them.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thanks.” For all his stubbornness, her father was softhearted when it came to his daughters and his wife. She just needed to remind him of the long-term benefits versus the costs.

  A thought occurred to her as her father stood by her side. He’d survived in a tough business for thirty years and had been a fixture in the Ocean Crest business community. She’d told Katie that all business owners were familiar with one another in the small town. She’d been referring to tramcar owner Kevin Crowley at the time. But Raffi and Angela Berberian had been around even longer.

  “Hey, Dad, do you know anything about Haven Candies on the boardwalk?” Lucy asked.

  “Sure. The finest fudge and saltwater taffy around,” Raffi said. “The parents founded the candy shop around the same time your mother and I opened Kebab Kitchen.”

  Lucy tapped her pen on the clipboard. “That long ago? Melanie Haven, the daughter, now runs the candy store.”

  “I guess the older sister didn’t want it,” Raffi said.

  Lucy’s fingers ceased tapping as she looked at her father in surprise. “Melanie has an older sister?”

  “Yes. I think her name is Rhonda. She’s about ten years older than Melanie. Rhonda reminds me of your own sister in a way. Emma likes working here as a waitress, but she doesn’t have the business savvy or interest to manage the place.”

  Lucy didn’t think about Emma. She was too preoccupied thinking about what she’d just learned. Melanie had never mentioned an older sister before, and because Rhonda was that much older, Lucy wouldn’t have known her when she went to high school with Melanie years ago. But was it important?

  “Dad, where’s Rhonda now?”

  Raffi shrugged. “Last I heard, she married a wealthy salesman. I don’t even know if she’s living in town.”

  Lucy didn’t know if this information was relevant or not. She made a mental note to tell Katie. Meanwhile, she had to tackle the inventory and then seek out her landlady and learn everything she could about Gilbert’s mysterious wife, Sophia Lubinski.

  * * *

  Tracking down her elderly landlady was proving to be a challenge. Eloisa still wasn’t home when Lucy returned that night. Lucy changed into sweatpants and an old Ocean Crest High School sweatshirt, then scrubbed her face free of all traces of makeup. After a busy lunch and dinner service, then inventory, she was exhausted. All she wanted was to collapse in front of the television with a glass of wine and cuddle with Gadoo. Instead, she peeked outside whenever a pair of headlights shone through the window in anticipation of Eloisa’s arrival home.

  It had been ten o’clock when Lucy had last looked outside. Where could the woman be?

  She poured herself a glass of white wine and looked at the couch, but at the last minute, she longingly glanced outside onto the deck. Rather than sit inside to constantly get up and peek out the window, she’d enjoy her deck. Besides, she could hear Eloisa’s car park in the driveway if she was already outside.

  Lucy carried her wineglass and opened the sliding glass door. Gadoo followed. She sat on one of the patio chairs and the cat leaped onto her lap. She stroked Gadoo’s soft fur as he purred.

  “Don’t get too comfortable. As soon as Mrs. Lubinski’s home, you have to stay upstairs. No more confrontations with Cupid.”

  Gadoo’s yellow eyes cracked open.

  “I mean it. I won’t have any more battles. You two need to learn how to get along.”

  Gadoo turned up his nose as if to say, “Don’t hold your breath.”

  The moon cast an iridescent glow on the ocean. The calming sounds of waves eased her nerves and left her with her thoughts. A cool blast of air blew in from the ocean, and Lucy was glad for her heavy sweatshirt. She sipped her wine and glanced over the sand dunes, past the dark beach and beyond.

  A shadow crossed the path from the dunes toward the beach and took the form of a man. He hesitated, then glimpsed up at the deck before turning back around. Because he was dressed in dark clothing and a beanie hat, Lucy couldn’t make out his face, but she had the distinct feeling he was hiding in the dunes, looking at her.

  Weird.

  Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Was he watching her? Or was she imagining things?

  “Do you see that, Gadoo?”

  The cat’s yellow eyes glowed in the moonlight, then he leaped off her lap to prowl the deck. He stopped by her feet and arched his back.

  The cat’s behavior was as unnerving as the appearance of the mystery man on the beach.

  Lucy blinked and leaned a bit forward in her chair. The figure turned and, for a heart-stopping moment, stared straight ahead—at her. Then he disappeared into the darkness.

  She pushed back the chair and stood. “Time to go inside.” Her heart beat fast and she didn’t breathe easy until she and Gadoo were both inside and the sliding door was shut and locked.

  She was acting paranoid. The beach was far below her second-floor patio. Maybe the stranger had spotted the outside patio light and noticed her sitting outside. He hadn’t looked at her for very long, not even a full minute. He was probably out for an evening stroll on the beach for solitude.

  She pushed her uneasiness aside. She had a different agenda in mind for tonight, one that involved her landlady and not a possible beach stalker. Besides, she was safe in her upstairs apartment.

  Headlights flashed through the window, and Lucy jumped up to peer outside. “Finally!” She scooped up Gadoo and dropped him on the pink sofa. “Sorry, Gadoo, but you have to stay here. It’s for your own good.” Gadoo shot her a menacing look, then began licking his paw.

  Lucy waited until she heard the downstairs door open, then cracked open the door leading to the first floor.

  “Mrs. Lubinski?”

  Cupid immediately started a high-pitched barking.

  Good. Better than a doorbell.

  Lucy crept down the stairs, all the while keeping a lookout for the killer little dog. “Mrs. Lubinski?”

  “If the hot water heater is broken, you have to wait until tomorrow. I won’t call for an emergency plumber.” A disgruntled voice drifted up the stairs.

  Lucy wasn’t deterred. In the kitchen, Eloisa was filling a teakettle with water at the sink. She was dressed in a flowing pink dress with lace-up sandals. Lucy didn’t know how she wasn’t cold. It was a chilly April evening.

  “It’s after ten o’clock. Where were you?” Lucy asked.

  Eloisa shuffled to the cabinet and reached for the shelf holding the mugs. “You’re my tenant, not my mother.�
��

  “I was worried. Besides, there’s something I want to talk with you about.”

  Cupid yawned and settled on a round, red dog bed in the corner of the kitchen. The shih tzu must be getting used to her. Either that or he’d decided she wasn’t much of a threat.

  “I was at purse blingo,” Eloisa said.

  “Blingo? What’s that?”

  Eloisa looked at her like she was an idiot. “Blingo is where all the prizes are designer handbags. The Protestant church hosts it once a month for charity. You have to have heard of it. Do you live under a seashell or what?”

  Lucy struggled to maintain her temper. “I’ve been working at the restaurant. I guess I haven’t had much time.”

  “Humph. How about some green tea and then you can ask me what you want?”

  Lucy eyed the mug. “Is it decaf?”

  “It is. Don’t worry. It won’t interfere with your beauty sleep.”

  The teakettle whistled, and Lucy turned off the stove as Eloisa fetched another mug, a box of tea, and a sugar bowl. Lucy poured the hot water and joined her at the kitchen table.

  After adding enough sugar to cause diabetes, Eloisa looked at Lucy. “Okay. Shoot.”

  Lucy sipped her tea, unsure of how to bring up the subject without upsetting the woman. “I keep thinking about finding Gilbert. I know you must be mourning your nephew’s death, and—”

  “Like I said. I’m not surprised. That boy had a habit of angering folks around town. And we weren’t the closest of relatives. The only time Gilbert visited me was to tell me I was too old to live by myself. I saw through his phony concern. He only wanted my house.”

  Lucy shifted in her seat. “That must have been horrible.”

  “You’re looking into things.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Lucy blinked in surprise. Eloisa Lubinski may be in her eighties, but her mind was sharp as a tack. What to say? She could deny it, but she knew Eloisa would doubt her answer. She decided on the simple truth. “I am.”