On the Lamb

by Tina Kashian

  Azad opened the sliding glass door and came in with a tray of cooked lamb shish kebabs. The delicious aroma made everyone stop and stare at the platter. He placed it on a hot plate in the center of the table.

  Lucy added chairs and everyone crowded together around the table. One look at Eloisa, and Lucy knew the woman was happy that she was not spending Easter alone with Cupid. Her landlady was growing on her, and fast. Maybe it was the near escape from a murderer, but they had bonded after that experience. Eloisa treated her almost . . . kindly.

  Or maybe she just was on her best behavior around Azad. Lucy wondered how Eloisa would act at the wedding.

  Either way, Lucy was happy she was here. She loved her apartment overlooking the ocean and needed to thank Max for the arrangement. Had he known she needed Eloisa as much as her landlady needed her?

  One look at her brother-in-law seated across the table between Emma and Niari told her the answer. He was more observant than she’d given him credit for in the past.

  Lucy brought out each of her dishes—pilaf, roasted eggplant and a vegetable platter, hummus, and Mediterranean couscous salad—and set everything on the table. Her nerves tightened as she watched everyone pass the dishes around. Would they approve of her cooking?

  The food must have been good because for the next several minutes all she heard was the scrape of cutlery on the plates as people enjoyed the food. Her father helped himself to seconds.

  “Azad, when did you make all this?” Angela asked.

  Azad looked at Lucy with pride. “I didn’t. Lucy did.”

  Everyone fell silent as Angela set down her fork and eyed her daughter. “It’s delicious. You have been paying attention to my lessons.”

  Did Lucy imagine the sigh of relief from everyone present at her mother’s praise?

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Azad kissed Lucy’s cheek. “She’s a quick learner.”

  Not really. But she would take the compliment.

  Azad nudged her shoulder. “See? I told you not to worry. Everyone is getting along and enjoying the food.”

  “He’s right. Look!” Niari said, pointing her fork to the corner of the room, where Gadoo and Cupid were lounging together on the pink couch.

  “They’ve finally figured out how to cohabitate?” Katie asked.

  Lucy was surprised to see the two pets sharing the same room, let alone the same couch cushion. Gadoo must have snuck inside when Azad had brought in the shish kebab from the deck. She hadn’t spotted the cat. “I think they are both waiting for leftover lamb.”

  Niari lowered her fork. “Animals are always smarter than humans.”

  Lucy supposed her niece could be right more often than not.

  “My Cupid is a lover, not a fighter,” Eloisa said, her face beaming with pride as she looked at her pet.

  Lucy could argue with that statement, but decided to keep eating instead.

  “Bill also has good news to share,” Katie said as she placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “His promotion to detective has come through.”

  “Most surprising, Calvin Clemmons submitted a recommendation on my behalf,” Bill said.

  “I thought he’d opposed it?” Lucy said.

  Bill shook his head. “He changed his mind.”

  Clemmons was changing. He hadn’t given her a hard time when she’d literally run into him fleeing a murderous Kevin Crowley from the candy store. Clemmons could have complained about Lucy’s involvement to Prosecutor Walsh, and the prosecutor could have retaliated by dragging Lucy into the station for interfering with an active murder investigation. Instead, Clemmons had written a recommendation on Bill’s behalf.

  Lucy would thank the detective later by delivering a batch of baklava to the station.

  “This is great news and more reason to celebrate,” Lucy said.

  Raffi raised a glass of cognac. “To Bill’s promotion. To Azad and Lucy’s engagement. And to a blessed Easter with family and friends.”

  Lucy looked to everyone present. Her life was changing with every season she spent at Ocean Crest. A flash of light caught on her engagement ring, and she marveled that she’d soon embark on a new journey. She cherished each person and relationship she had built during her return home.

  Lucy raised her own glass. “To family, friends.”

  Katie leaned across the table. “Now we can talk about reception halls.”

  Author’s Note

  I grew up in the restaurant business, where my Armenian American parents owned a restaurant for almost thirty years in a small South Jersey town. I worked almost every job—from rolling silverware and wiping down tables as a tween, to hosting and waitressing as a teenager. My mother was a talented cook, and the grapevine in our backyard was more valued than any rosebush. I’d often come home from school to the delicious aromas of simmering grape leaves, stuffed peppers and tomatoes, and shish kebab.

  But growing up in a family restaurant definitely had its pros and cons. As one of the owner’s daughters, I’d often get last-minute calls from my father to waitress or hostess when another worker was sick. I used to grumble about it as a teenager, but I always showed up. Family came first. But there were plenty of great times, too, and my tips paid for my prom gown. Some of my favorite scenes in the book are straight from my memories—temperamental chefs, busy busboys, and gossipy waitstaff can be quite entertaining.

  My Kebab Kitchen Mystery series also takes place at the Jersey shore. Ever since I was a little girl, my parents vacationed there. We now have two girls, and we still take them to the Jersey shore every summer. As I wrote the books, I pictured my fictitious small town of Ocean Crest at the Jersey shore. I heard the seagulls squawking and pictured them circling above the beach. I felt the lapping of the ocean waves and the sand between my toes, and imagined the brilliant Ferris wheel on the boardwalk pier. I pictured myself in Ocean Crest—minus the murders, of course.

  I loved writing this book, and I’m happy to share my own favorite family recipes with you. Enjoy the food!

  RECIPES

  Lucy’s Mediterranean Couscous Salad

  ¾ cup uncooked couscous

  1 cup chicken broth

  1½ cup cubed tomatoes

  1½ cup peeled cucumber

  ½ cup halved pitted kalamata olives

  ¼ cup chopped sweet onions

  2½ tablespoons lemon juice

  2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  Salt and pepper to taste

  In saucepan, heat chicken broth to boiling. Stir in couscous. Remove from heat. Cover and let stand five minutes. Fluff with a fork.

  In large bowl, place tomatoes, cucumber, olives, and onions. Stir in couscous.

  Add lemon juice, oil, salt and pepper. Mix well. Cover and refrigerate for an hour. Enjoy!

  Angela’s Lamb Kebabs with Tomato Sauce

  2 pounds leg of lamb or beef tenderloin, boned,

  with fat removed, and cut into 1-inch cubes

  2½ tablespoons tomato paste

  3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  ¼ teaspoon paprika

  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper to taste

  2½ tablespoons lemon juice or red wine vinegar

  1 onion sliced

  Tomato Sauce

  4 tablespoons butter

  1 diced onion

  2 beefsteak tomatoes, seeded and diced

  ¼ teaspoon paprika

  Salt and pepper to taste

  Place meat in bowl. Add tomato paste, oil, paprika, cayenne, lemon or vinegar, and onion. Mix well. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

  To prepare the tomato sauce, heat butter in a skillet. Sauté onions till lightly golden. Add tomatoes. Cook for 10–15 minutes. Add paprika, salt and pepper.

  Thread meat onto skewers. Grill the skewers over a charcoal fire. Turn the skewers until the meat is cooked on all sides. Pour warm tomato sauce onto a platter and place cooked kebabs on top. Best if served with rice pilaf. Enjoy!

  Azad’s Armenian Sweet
Bread (Choereg)

  ¼ ounce package of active dry yeast

  ¼ cup lukewarm water

  ¾ cup sugar

  4 eggs

  1 teaspoon salt

  ¾ cup melted butter

  1 cup lukewarm whole milk

  7 cups flour

  Sesame seeds

  3 Hershey chocolate bars (optional)

  In a small bowl, combine yeast, water, teaspoon of sugar, and stir until mixture is dissolved. Set aside.

  In large bowl, combine three of the eggs, salt, and remaining sugar. Add yeast mixture, butter, and milk. Mix with an electric mixer or by hand until blended. Add flour, a cup at a time, and mix with a dough hook of an electric mixer or by hand. Knead dough until it is smooth (about ten minutes). Cover bowl with a towel and set aside to rise for two hours. The dough should double in size.

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Shape dough into small buns.

  Optional: When shaping dough into small buns, insert two squares of chocolate into the bun, then seal the bun until it is closed.

  Beat remaining egg and brush tops of buns with the egg wash. Sprinkle with sesame seeds. Bake for fifteen minutes until tops of buns are golden brown. Makes about three dozen buns.

  Warm the buns in a toaster oven, oven, or microwave before serving for delicious, warm sweet bread.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writers create stories in solitude, but publishing a book is a team effort. I’m thankful for all the wonderful people who have helped me along the way. I will always be indebted to my parents, Anahid and Gabriel, and miss them every day. This series would never have been written if it wasn’t for them. My life experiences growing up in the family restaurant were invaluable. They taught me to work hard and never stop believing in myself.

  Thanks to my girls—Laura and Gabrielle—for believing in Mom. I’m eternally grateful to John for his never-ending support, encouragement, and love. I’m lucky we get to live this life together.

  Thank you to my agent, Stephany Evans, for your guidance and for always believing in me.

  And a special thank you to everyone at Kensington for believing in this series and all their work on my behalf.

  Last, thanks to readers, booksellers, and librarians for reading my Kebab Kitchen Mystery series. I hope you enjoy the book as much as I loved writing it!

  Be sure not to miss any

  of Tina Kashian’s

  Kebab Kitchen Mystery series, including

  ONE FETA IN THE GRAVE

  As summer comes to an end in her Jersey shore town, Lucy Berberian continues to manage her family’s Mediterranean restaurant. The Kebab Kitchen also has a food tent at this year’s beach festival. But now a local businessman is under the boardwalk—dead by the sea . . .

  Keep reading for a special look!

  CHAPTER 1

  “It looks like a giant nose.”

  Lucy Berberian’s lips twitched at the words her longtime friend Katie Watson whispered into her ear.

  “No. I think it’s an oversized ear. Wait, it’s a . . .” Lucy bit her lip, afraid to voice what other body part she thought was displayed, then suddenly realized the artist’s true intent. “It’s a big snail!”

  Both women looked at each other, then burst out laughing, drawing the attention of a group of serious-looking men and women holding clipboards who were gathered around a sand sculpture a few yards away.

  Lucy scanned the beach, noting the dozens of impressive sand sculptures. It was Sunday, the opening day of the Ocean Crest sand sculpture contest, the first event of many to celebrate the weeklong beach festival in the small Jersey shore town. The festival offered numerous activities on the boardwalk and on the beach. Surfing, beach volleyball, and soccer competitions would thrill tourists and beachgoers alike while a wine and food tasting event would offer delicious morsels from local restaurants to satisfy adventurous palates. Visitors would wander among the temporary tents set up on the boardwalk while local musicians performed beneath the bandstand. And all during the week, shops would continue to sell beach clothing, boogie boards, pails and shovels, hermit crabs, and dozens of other summer-themed knickknacks. The amusement pier’s old-fashioned wooden roller coaster and Ferris wheel operated late into the evening, and spectacular fireworks ended the festivities Saturday night.

  The festival was important for the local merchants and the town. It was mid-August, and soon after, the season would wind down and the small town that could easily swell to triple its population during the summer months would shrink to its after-season size following Labor Day.

  The sand sculpture contest kicked off the festival, and local artists had molded unique creations. Mermaids, Greek and Roman gods and goddesses, intricate castles, and a variety of marine life including sea turtles, horseshoe crabs, and fish fascinated onlookers. A lifelike sculpture of C-3PO alongside R2-D2 from Star Wars drew kids of all ages.

  Clipboards in hand, Lucy and Katie walked from creation to creation and marked their scores on their judging sheets.

  Katie chewed on her pencil as she stared at the snail sculpture. “I’m not sure how to score this one.”

  Lucy cocked her head to the side and squinted at the sculpture. “It’s very detailed. I’m giving it a high score for creativity.”

  “I suppose.” Katie didn’t look convinced.

  A flash of red on the beach caught Lucy’s eye. A pretty, blond teenager in a fire-engine-red bikini flirted with a lifeguard sitting in his guard stand. Her brunette girlfriend stood next to her smiling.

  “The one in the red looks like you did in high school,” Lucy said. Katie was tall and slender with straight blond hair and blue eyes.

  “You think so? I don’t remember being that flirtatious, and the curvy brunette looks like you now.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “My bikini days are long over. And you always flirted with the lifeguards.”

  “The good old days,” Katie said.

  They burst out laughing. They’d been best friends since grade school, but were physical opposites. Lucy was shorter with dark, curly hair that never cooperated in the summer humidity, and her eyes were a deep brown. The two women came from different cultural backgrounds as well. Lucy was a first-generation American—a mix of Armenian, Greek, and Lebanese—and Katie had discovered, after recently putting together a family tree, that one of her ancestors fought under General Washington in the Revolutionary War.

  Their differences never mattered. They were like sisters, and when Lucy had quit her job as a Philadelphia attorney and returned home, Katie had welcomed her back with open arms and offered Lucy her guest bedroom in the cozy rancher she shared with her husband, Bill, an Ocean Crest police officer.

  They marked down their scores and turned to the next sculpture—an adorable sand snowman with shiny black shells for its eyes and a small conch shell for its nose—when angry voices drew their attention.

  “You’re biased and everyone knows it! How the hell did you get to be a judge?”

  Lucy recognized the man as Harold Harper, a boardwalk business owner. Harold was stocky with reddish hair parted on one side and the beginnings of a goatee on his square chin. He wore a striped tank top, wrinkled khaki shorts, and sandals.

  “What’s it to you? Mind your own business.”

  Lucy didn’t know the second man. Tall and thin, he had a shock of white hair, bushy eyebrows, and a tattoo of Wile E. Coyote on his right bicep. His untucked, white, T-shirt and army green shorts emphasized his height and lankiness.

  “I’m also a judge. I’m making it my business,” Harold said.

  Lucy turned to Katie. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s Harold Harper and Archie Kincaid,” Katie said. “Archie came to town a year ago and opened Seaside Gifts, a store on the boardwalk. I issued his mercantile license at the town hall.”

  Katie worked at the Ocean Crest town hall and handled real estate taxes, zoning, pet licenses, and business licenses.

  “Archie’s going at it pretty g
ood with Harold,” Lucy said.

  “They own shops next to each other on the boardwalk. Sparks fly whenever they’re within five feet of each other.”

  Their combative stances reminded Lucy of the TV commercials advertising a big mixed martial arts fight at one of the large Atlantic City casinos. Was it all bravado or could they really pack a punch?

  Katie vigorously fanned her red cheeks with her clipboard. “If it has something to do with the judging, then I have to get involved.”

  Katie was the head judge on the judging committee for the sand sculpture contest. The committee appointed six additional judges and everyone’s scores would be anonymously tallied. Lucy was one of the appointed judges.

  Lucy had also been recruited to oversee the food and wine tasting event, which was part of the festival and would take place on the boardwalk. As the new manager of Kebab Kitchen, her family-owned Mediterranean restaurant, Lucy had been the perfect fit for the job. She’d also wanted to give back to the town who had warmly embraced her after she’d returned home months ago.

  Harold and Archie glowered at each other and were starting to cause a scene. Several tourists had stopped on the beach to watch.

  Lucy eyed them warily. “Maybe you should call Bill.” A man in uniform carrying a gun could quickly calm down a fight between two idiots.

  “I can handle it,” Katie said, stiffening her spine as she approached the pair. “What’s the problem, gentlemen?”

  “He should be disqualified as a judge,” Harold said, pointing his pen at Archie.

  “Shut up, Harper! No one wants to hear your opinion,” Archie countered.