Murder in the Graveyard, page 14
“I’ll chase him away.” Raffi headed straight for the restaurant’s large double doors.
Lucy whirled around. “No, Dad! You can’t. Rules say parents aren’t supposed to intimidate participants.”
Raffi halted. “Then I’ll walk you to your car and be a look out for you.”
“Okay. Just don’t talk to him.” Lucy gave him a pointed look. “You can be scary.”
“Me?” Raffi’s eyebrows rose as he pointed to his chest.
Lucy leveled her gaze at both her parents. “Both of you. Let’s wait a bit. Maybe he’ll get tired and go away.”
They waited another half hour. Sure enough, Danny was still outside. This time he squatted by her left rear tire. He had no idea they could still see him from the bay window.
With her car keys in hand, Lucy left the restaurant, grateful to have her dad at her side. “Thanks for walking me, Dad.”
“No one’s going to get my girl on my watch.” He held out a hand. “Give me the keys and I’ll open the door.”
She handed him her key fob. It beeped as he pressed the button. She planned to dive into the car, slam the door shut, and press the lock button.
Her father opened the door.
Danny McHugh rushed from around the side of the car. “Lucy!”
Lucy started, heart pounding in her chest like a drum.
“Wait!” Danny was holding up a sign, not a water gun. In her panicked state, it took her several heartbeats to read it:
Will you go to the prom with me?
Oh my God. It was a Promposal, not an assassination attempt.
“Um, dad, I think—”
Her father chuckled and shut the car door. “You two talk. I’ll be inside with your mother.”
Once they were alone, Lucy didn’t know who was more embarrassed, her or Danny McHugh.
Red-faced, he shifted from foot to foot. “Hey, Lucy. I um…I was wondering if you’d like to go to the prom with me?” He pushed a swath of blond hair from his eyes.
As far as Lucy knew, the request was out of left field. She had no idea Danny liked her. Other than suffering through chemistry class together with thirty other students, he’d barely spoken with her.
“Danny, I didn’t know you were thinking of me as a prom date.”
“I know we don’t speak much, but I…I’ve noticed you lately. I also know it’s late but neither of us have dates and I thought to ask.”
She wasn’t very good at these types of awkward situations. Horrible, really. She thought of Azad, but he’d just started working for her parents, which made it uncomfortable. Plus, they didn’t talk much, and he probably didn’t think of her that way. It was already May, and she’d bought her prom gown and had planned on going with friends if she never had a date.
Danny stuffed his hands into his jean pockets looking more uncomfortable than she felt at that moment.
What did her mom always say? A bird in hand is worth better than two in a bush. The saying always sounded stupid. Who holds a bird? But she got the gist of it, and looking into Danny’s brown, hopeful eyes, it made perfect sense now. What if Azad never asked? What if her friends found dates and she was left without one because she was too hopeful?
“Yes,” she found herself saying. “I’d like to go to the prom with you.”
***
Lucy arrived at the graveyard before Katie that night. Zack was waiting for her by the same tombstone. Both early, they waited for the party group to show up and sat together on a soft patch of grass. He dug the heels of his Converse in the soft grass. “Hey, Lucy. You need to get Michael alone tonight.”
Lucy scrunched her nose. “How? Michael and I are not exactly friends.” He wasn’t a great student, and they hadn’t had a class together in years.
Zack tugged on his ballcap. “Tell him a car pulled up asking for him at the edge of the woods and a girl called his name.”
“You fight dirty,” Lucy said.
“You should, too.” He rested his arms on his knees. “After you’re successful, I’ll meet you here tomorrow and we can celebrate.”
“Sounds good.” She owed him for his help. Maybe she’d bring doughnuts.
“Since we have time, tell me about your family,” Zack said.
The distant hoot of an owl sounded. Lucy leaned back on her hands. “They own a Mediterranean restaurant called Kebab Kitchen. I started working there as a cashier and hostess and worked my way up to waitress.”
“Must be nice to have a family business.”
She shook her head. “Not always. Working for family can be hard. If someone doesn’t show up, my sister and I are the first ones who have to cover. But the tips are good and paid for my prom gown.”
“Do you have a prom date?”
Was he asking because he was curious? Or because he wanted to ask her to his own Rocky Harbor school prom? She wouldn’t mind going to two proms. “As a matter of fact, I do, as of tonight,” she laughed. “I received a Promposal after finishing my waitressing shift.”
“Tonight? Really?”
“It was a surprise.”
“You like him?”
She thought about Danny. He was cute but quiet. He wore a soccer shirt once so she knew he was on the soccer team. “I hope to get to know him better.”
“You sound uncertain.”
“I had someone else in mind, but he never asked, and I don’t think he would anyway.”
A long silence. Then Zack brushed her hand with his then rested it upon hers. “If you ask me, it’s his loss.”
A sense of heightened awareness rushed through her at his touch. Teenage boys didn’t always show emotion, not the way Zack had, and she was pleasantly surprised. And it was a nice thing to say. She got the impression that Zack was a gentleman. A rarity among high school boys. He didn’t try to kiss her or, heaven forbid, grope her. He just sat next to her, his hand touching hers.
“What about you?” Lucy asked. “Is there a girlfriend?”
He let out a long sigh. “There used to be. I was really hung up on Kirsty. But I did something stupid. I cheated.”
Maybe he wasn’t as much of a gentleman as she’d thought. “Sorry to hear that.”
“I never had a chance to apologize.”
“There’s always time.”
His brow furrowed. “Not always. I missed my window with her.”
Voices sounded from farther in the graveyard along with laughter and a half-drunken howl. “Here they come. You ready?” Zack asked.
A group gathered in the same spot with the same cooler full of beer. The unmistakable pungent smell of weed wafted to her as smoke curled into the night air. A couple sat near a flat tomb, passing a joint and whispering. Most of those who’d gathered weren’t her or Katie’s group of friends. But partying wasn’t her purpose tonight.
Katie was late. She didn’t want to miss her chance.
“I’ll be there to help if you need me,” Zack said. “Don’t forget. Tell Michael there’s a car waiting for him on the side of the road.”
Without Katie, she was grateful for the backup. “Thanks.”
Lucy didn’t waste time and approached the group. She opened a beer and pretended to drink as she talked with the girls. Michael stood by the beer cooler with his friends. Zack joined two of the boys and laughed at something one of them said. Stupid boy jokes Lucy never thought were funny.
Then Zack looked up, made eye contact with her and flashed a grin.
It was a sign. Lucy walked up to the boys. “Hey, Michael. When I walked in from the side road, I saw a car parked there. A girl asked for you.”
Michael lowered his beer. “Now?”
“Yeah. I returned to the road to see if my friend, Katie, came and just saw her.”
Michael set his beer upon a flat tomb and walked away. Lucy made a pretense of going to the cooler to get a beer, then followed Michael. Once he was far enough away, she had her cell phone ready in one hand and pulled her water gun from her waistband. Since Katie still hadn’t arrived, she could do both, squirt him and record the kill at the same time. She raised her iPhone in one hand and the water gun in her other and—
A cold blast struck her back.
Water soaked her T-shirt and trickled down her back. Spinning around, she came face to face with the redhaired Theresa. “Got you!”
Molly stood beside her giggling as she recorded the kill.
Crap. She’d just been assassinated!
Lucy frantically looked for Zack, but he was nowhere in sight. Why didn’t he shout out a warning?
So much for backup.
***
“Laura Smith won the prize money. You came in third and got twenty bucks,” Katie said.
It was the following night, and Lucy was at Katie’s house. It turned out Katie had a flat tire and never made it to the party that night.
“You made it all the way to third place! It’s respectable,” Katie said.
“Still, I was so sure I would have been able to take out Michael.” It was a bummer and Lucy had gone over last night’s events over and over in her mind.
“Laura shot Theresa today as she walked home after the lacrosse game,” Katie said.
Lucy’s eyebrows drew together as she thought things through. “If Theresa had me as a target, how come she didn’t shoot me the first night?”
“You’re lucky. Theresa told me she was buzzed, and it was dark. She didn’t see you sneak off to follow Michael. Otherwise, she would have nailed you,” Katie said. “As for Laura, it’s the first time a girl won Senior Assassin at our school.”
“Good for her,” Lucy said, “I like Laura and I’m glad she won and not Michael.” It sucked that she couldn’t eliminate Michael but at least she knew she tried her best.
“I heard Michael’s sulking about not winning,” Katie said.
Lucy let out a breath. “I want to go back to find Zack.”
“You think he’ll be there tonight?” Katie asked. “There always seems to be a party.”
“He said to meet him to celebrate. Third place is not first, but I want to know why he disappeared that night and didn’t shout out a warning before Theresa got me.” It had bothered her since that night.
Katie pursed her lips. “Let’s go. I want to meet him.”
Katie was by her side as they entered the graveyard. A group of juniors and seniors had already gathered.
“I don’t see him.” Lucy scanned between the gravestones and a sinking feeling of despair settled low in the pit of her stomach.
Zack was a no show.
“Call him. What's his cell number?” Katie asked.
“We never exchanged numbers.”
Katie pulled out her own cell phone and started scrolling. “Weird, He’s not on social media. Are you sure he said Rocky Harbor High?”
“Positive.”
“And you’re sure he said he’d meet you tonight to celebrate?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Lucy turned away and called out. “Zack! It's me. Lucy!”
A different tightness twisted in her chest. She felt like an idiot. Had she been played? Zack had been nice, kind even. She’d shared secrets. Thinking back, had he? He’d shared little about himself. Only that he’d cheated on a girl and had regretted it. Other than that, Zack had been interested in her.
What if Zack was good friends with Michael? What if he’d told Michael how to get away? What if he’d set her up the entire time?
Stupid, Lucy! You were played!
Lucy returned to the same tombstone where they’d first met. She rested her hand on the granite and let out a long sigh. It was clear, Zack wasn’t coming, and she’d fallen for the epic play.
“Hey, Lucy.”
Something about Katie’s tone caught her attention. Katie turned on the flashlight with her cell phone. In the darkness, the beam of light was almost blinding.
Her friend was focused on the tombstone. Lucy’s eyes adjusted to the glow and she read the engraving for the first time. She froze, a nervous tingle traveling down her spine.
Zackary Randazzo
Loving Son
You left us too early
2000-2018
Katie’s thumbs typed at blinding speed and scrolled more on her phone. “Zackary Randazzo died five years ago from a heart attack during a Rocky Harbor wrestling match. Apparently, he had an undiagnosed heart failure.”
A buzzing sounded in Lucy’s ears, and she felt faint. “Oh my God. Are you sure?”
Katie stuck her cell phone in front of Lucy. “See for yourself. Social media pictures show him with friends.”
A heaviness centered in her chest as she saw pictures of Zack with friends. In three of them, he wore the same Yankees baseball cap. The last one was of him at prom in a tuxedo with a pretty dark-haired girl. It must be Kirsty.
Katie’s voice turned serious. “Lucy, you saw his ghost.”
Lucy pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart was pounding. “How? He touched me! I felt it! He touched me!”
“I studied a phenomenon in psychology class called tactile hallucination. Your brain misinterprets sensory information, even strong enough to believe you were touched when you weren’t. Even still, you could have seen him.”
Lucy’s voice sounded off-pitch to her own ears. “Why? Why me?”
“Maybe Zack was lonely.”
Lucy’s brow furrowed. “You think his ghost just needed someone to talk to?”
“Why not? Maybe you helped him just like he helped you.”
“How did he help me?”
“Maybe you needed someone to talk with, too. See?” Katie said. “You helped each other.”
In a weird sense, Lucy hoped so. She also knew Zack had made her senior year even more unforgettable.
AUTHOR’S NOTES:
This story is dedicated to my Gabby, who did assassinate her target in the Dunkin Donuts drive-through with a water gun during Senior Water Wars.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Tina Kashian writes the best-selling Kebab Kitchen Mediterranean cozies, and her first book, Hummus and Homicide, spent six weeks on the Barnes & Noble bestseller list. Tina is an attorney and a mechanical engineer whose love of reading for pleasure helped her get through years of academia. She grew up in the restaurant business, as her Armenian parents owned a restaurant for thirty years. Tina also writes best-selling historical romance as Tina Gabrielle. Please visit her website at www.tinakashian.com to sign up for her newsletter and receive recipes.
You can connect with Tina at:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TinaKashianAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TinaKashian1
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tinakashian/
The Kebab Kitchen Mediterranean Mysteries:
Hummus & Homicide
Stabbed in the Baklava
One Feta in the Grave
On the Lamb
Mistletoe, Moussaka, and Murder
GRAVE EXPECTATIONS
by Daphne Silver
A Rare Books Mystery Short Story
“Grave Expectations” features rare books librarian Juniper Blume, who finds books and bodies where they don’t belong along the Chesapeake Bay in the Agatha Award-winning Rare Books Cozy Mystery series.
Normally my sister Azalea was the early riser. However, on this brisk autumn morning, I tapped into a hidden reserve of “golden retriever” energy for the perfect Halloween project: archiving gravestones in Tidewater Cemetery.
The threat of rain didn’t bother me. We’d had so much recently. Up before the sun, I put on my most ancient pair of overalls, thick waterproof boots, and cinched up my bobbed hair with a Rosie the Riveter style red and white print bandana.
“You’re far too chipper about something so morbid, Juniper,” Azalea said.
She poured her tea into a travel mug. I lined my mug up right behind hers. She stared at it like I’d asked her to move a mountain. Unwilling to succumb to her irritation, I took the kettle from her right hand and poured in the hot water myself over the tea leaves, before adding heaping amounts of local wildflower honey.
After closing the lid, I clapped my hands with excitement. “That cemetery dates back to the 1600s. And it’s still being used today. Can you imagine the stories it holds?”
Azalea rolled her eyes. “It’s a cemetery, Juniper. Not a library. It doesn’t hold stories. Just bones.”
“Wow, you’re a joy this morning. Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
Her face dropped. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be like this. Just juggling a lot.”
“You don’t have to come with me. Take the morning off. Rory’s got Violet and Clover, and there aren’t any guests till later, so you could enjoy some free time.” The house was oddly quiet, with Azalea’s husband having taken their young daughter and my dog out for the day. Our century-old home also served as the Wildflower Inn, and we were enjoying the rare moment in between guests. My sister had worked so hard that I felt she deserved some downtime.
She waved her free hand around like an orchestra conductor searching for her baton. “No, I agreed to volunteer, and I don’t plan to renege on my commitments. Especially not on the same day I’m expected.”
That was my sister, always dependable. While I admired her adherence to being reliable, I didn’t want to see her burn out.
“Once we get there, you should have some nice weeding to tend to. All the rain we’ve had lately should make it easy to pull them out.” I gently pushed her arm. Azalea loved gardening. It’s why the gardens surrounding the Wildflower Inn always looked so lush, even in late fall. “You can deadhead away your concerns too.”
She cracked a small smile. “A deadhead at the cemetery joke?” Yes! I had made an inroad.
“I couldn’t resist the wordplay. But also, yes, I know you love to garden.”
