Death by Dumpling Read online

“That’s all right, I’ve requested that day’s order slips from your mother. I just haven’t had a chance to go through them.” He jotted down another note and closed the pad. “I think that’s all for today, Miss Lee.”

  “But…” I started to say.

  “Thank you, Miss Lee,” he said, dismissing me. “If I think of anything else, I’ll be in touch.”

  We both stood up, our eyes never leaving the other. He studied my face as if he were trying to figure out whether or not I was a killer. He blinked, looking away, and gestured toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

  He followed me out, leading me the way I came in. I left without saying anything more, a pit at the bottom of my belly. I held my stomach as I got into the car. Deep breaths, Lana, deep breaths. Everything was going to be fine. Right?

  * * *

  I drove back to Asia Village to meet my mother at the restaurant. She’d instructed me to come back after I left the police station so I could tell her what happened. I found her sitting in the dining area, staring off into space.

  “Mom…” I whispered. She seemed deep in thought, and I didn’t want to startle her.

  Her head turned slightly, but she didn’t respond.

  “There’s no way that—”

  “I know you did not do this…” She slowly turned to face me, and I could see the worry etched in her eyes. “Lana … this is big trouble for us.”

  “But no one can seriously believe that anybody here would do something like that. It wasn’t me, and it definitely wasn’t Peter. He’s not that kind of person.” I stopped. “You don’t believe it, do you?”

  “No, but Donna thinks so,” my mother replied.

  “Why? How could she think that?” I sat across from my mother. “What has ever happened to make Donna think that Peter had a problem with Mr. Feng?”

  She looked away. “People will surprise you, Lana. When they are hurt, they will blame anybody for anything. Remember that.”

  CHAPTER

  5

  It felt like an eternity since the morning and my mother decided she wanted to eat after all. Since everything was still on in the kitchen, she did what she did best when her mind was heavy and cooked us a feast. To the corner booth, she brought out a large bowl of white rice, spinach sautéed in garlic and sesame oil, a Chinese omelet with extra scallions, a pan-fried fish that still had its head (yuck), fried tofu, turnip cakes, wonton soup, and a plate of Shanghai noodles with ground pork. By the looks of it, you’d think there was more than just the two of us having lunch.

  While we were eating, Megan showed up at the door and tapped on the glass, waving me over. She pointed at the door with a confused look on her face. “What’s the deal with the door?” Megan asked as I let her in. She glanced around the empty restaurant. “Did you guys close early again?”

  My mother stood to greet her. “You look too skinny,” she said, giving her a once-over. “You work too hard.”

  Megan hugged my mom. “You can never be too skinny,” Megan teased. “I started working out last month and I’ve been trying to get your daughter to come with me.” She gave me a sideways glance. “But she keeps fighting me on it.”

  My mother snorted. “Ha! Lana, exercise?”

  “Hey!” I protested. “I’m right here.”

  Megan elbowed me and winked. “Well, I just came by to see how you were doing.” Turning to my mother, she said, “And to tell you that I was sorry to hear about Mr. Feng. I didn’t know him well, but he seemed like he was a very nice man.”

  My mother nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Megan, he was a good friend. I will miss him very much.”

  “So what’s the deal with the lack of business?” Megan pointed toward the front. “And the locked door?” She checked her cell phone. “It’s not even three o’clock yet.”

  “We have more trouble now,” my mom said, returning to her seat.

  I sighed. “Come sit with us and have some lunch. I’ll tell you all about it.” I started from the top and worked my way through all the events that had happened up until I got back to the plaza a half hour ago.

  When I was done, Megan let out a deep sigh and sat back in her seat. “That’s pretty crazy. Does this guy even know what he’s talking about? I mean, it’s Peter … and you … you’re uncomfortable hanging up on telemarketers. Not exactly murderer material.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I know, that’s what I said. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense, but supposedly Peter and Mr. Feng got into a ‘verbal altercation,’” I said, using sarcastic air quotes. The more I thought about it, the madder I got. What a ridiculous accusation.

  “He’s probably jumping the gun … he’s probably some young guy who doesn’t know what he’s doing. Was he a young guy?” Megan asked. “I bet he was a young guy.”

  “Maybe mid-thirties? It was hard to tell…” I said, picturing the detective in my head. “He was attractive though. Nice eyes…” I responded absently as I piled more noodles onto my plate. Being questioned by the police sure worked up my appetite.

  Megan’s eyes narrowed. “He was attractive?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “He was very handsome,” my mom said matter-of-factly. “The young one. The older one did not look as nice.”

  We both looked at my mother with surprise.

  Megan turned back to me. “Nice eyes?”

  “Yes…” My chopsticks stopped in midair. I eyeballed her. “Are we deaf today?”

  She clucked her tongue at me. “No, it’s just that this is the first time you’ve said anyone’s been attractive since—”

  “Don’t.” I held up my index finger, pointing at her. “Don’t say his name.”

  My mother looked at me and then back at Megan, noodles hanging out of her mouth as she watched our exchange.

  She held up her hands defensively. “I wasn’t. I was going to say ‘since jerk face.’”

  “Oh. Well, yeah, ‘jerk face’ is fine.”

  “So you like this detective then?” Megan prodded. “Even though he thinks you and Peter might have offed someone?” A perfectly penciled brow rose at the end of her question.

  My mother snorted. “No, Lana is clearing her head.”

  “Mom!”

  My mother shrugged.

  Megan rolled her eyes. “That again?”

  I set my chopsticks down on my plate. “Are you guys ganging up on me?”

  Neither one of them answered me. My mother looked down, suddenly very interested in her noodles. Megan stirred the soup in her bowl, focusing on the one wonton still floating around.

  “Well?” I asked, waiting for one of them to respond.

  Megan cleared her throat. “Well, I think you need a night out after everything that’s been going on, and you cannot possibly sit in the house and mope another night. So…” She chanced a peek at me. “You should come to the Zodiac tonight. I have to bartend until close and some of the guys will be there. You’ll forget everything that’s going on.”

  “I don’t think I can tonight,” I said, picking up my chopsticks. “I’m just not in the mood to be social.”

  “You shouldn’t sit at home by yourself either. What’s that going to do?” she asked, her courage clearly restored. “Plus, maybe if you talk about it, you’ll feel better.”

  I gave an apologetic smile. “I’m going to sit this one out, okay? Maybe tomorrow night…”

  She pushed her empty soup bowl aside. “Fine, suit yourself. If you change your mind, you know where to find us. Drinks are on me if you decide to show up.”

  After Megan left, my mother said, “Tomorrow, you and Anna May will go see Donna at her house, okay? Bring egg rolls or something nice for her.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I already talked to her by myself.”

  “Mom … what if she says something about Peter? Or me?” I asked. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just let your sister talk. She is good at that.”

  Pfft. Yeah, s
he had that right.

  By the time I left the restaurant, I was in full-blown tizzy mode. Something about the way Megan had questioned me about Detective Trudeau was nagging at me. “He thinks I offed someone,” I said out loud to myself in the car. How absurd. As if I were some sort of casual killer … as if Peter and I plotted to get Mr. Feng out of the way for our own selfish purposes. And what purposes would those even be exactly? Had the detective even thought of that?

  I squeezed the steering wheel, the heat rising in my cheeks. No, I couldn’t let myself or Peter get blamed for something we weren’t responsible for.

  Parking the car outside of my apartment, I took a deep breath and nodded with resolve. If that meant I had to figure this out myself, then so be it. I’d start tomorrow … a fresh day. Tomorrow had to be better. They even made a song about it. The sun comes out and all that junk.

  CHAPTER

  6

  “Looks like someone else is here,” Anna May said, parking behind a silver Honda Accord in the Fengs’ driveway.

  “I think that’s Kimmy Tran’s car,” I said, recognizing the beat-up car from the plaza parking lot.

  Anna May flipped down her car visor and opened the mirror, dabbing at her lipstick. I watched as she primped. We didn’t really look alike, but you could tell we were related. My sister’s face was flat and oval shaped, and mine was more pronounced and round. Her lips were on the thinner side and when she smiled I swear you could see every tooth she had in her mouth. My nose has a good bridge and I’m pretty sure that comes from my dad.

  And even though Anna May was only three years older than me, she looked like it was about ten. But not in a bad way or anything; I chalked it up to her conservative fashion sense and the way she carried herself. Meanwhile, I still got carded at bars.

  “Can you grab the egg rolls from the backseat? I’ll carry the flowers,” she said, inspecting the pale taupe shadow on her eyelid. She gave her long hair a good toss, and we both reached in the backseat to grab our respective items.

  No matter what culture, food is always an important staple when someone is grieving, so we brought a platter of homemade egg rolls. Along with that, my sister chose a bouquet of white orchids, a symbol of respect.

  The Fengs lived in a massive house in Westlake, a few cities over from Asia Village. To say that their house and land was sprawling is not an overstatement.

  We walked up the long drive to their oversized brick Colonial, though to me, it looked like a mansion. As we walked up the stone steps to the front door, I wondered to myself if Mrs. Feng would be able to take care of all this property on her own. Maybe they had “people” for that. It’s not like they were hurting for money or anything.

  Anna May rang the doorbell and we only had to wait a few seconds before someone opened the door. A short Asian woman with graying hair in a tight bun looked up at us, caution on her face.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, her accent thick.

  “We’re here to pay our respects,” my sister said pleasantly.

  “Everyone is in the living room. You can go there.” She stepped back from the door to let us pass. After she shut the door, she disappeared up the staircase without another word.

  When we reached the living room, Mrs. Feng stood up with a sorrowful smile. For a widow, she still looked beautiful. Donna Feng was dressed to the nines at all times. I admired a woman who looked her best no matter the circumstances. She was decked out in a bold blue pantsuit and nude high heels. Her hair was wrapped in a French twist, not a hair out of place. She greeted us both with a hug. “Oh, the Lee girls, it’s so nice of you to come.” Like her clothing, her English was immaculate. It was a far cry from the broken English my mother and most of her friends spoke.

  After we all hugged, Kimmy Tran and her mother, Sue, rose to greet us. Kimmy stood slightly behind her mother looking annoyed. I’m sure that my assessment was spot-on after the way she had acted the other day. She wasn’t exactly Mr. Feng’s biggest fan. I didn’t know how long they’d been there, but Kimmy still had her coat on and looked like she was ready to run out the door any second.

  “I see you met my mother,” Mrs. Feng said, looking toward the hallway. “You’ll have to forgive her for not joining us, she isn’t much for strangers.”

  My sister smiled politely. “I hope we’re not disturbing you at a bad time.”

  “Nonsense!” Mrs. Feng batted a hand as if to wave off the idea. “And look at these flowers! They’re just beautiful.” She took the vase out of Anna May’s hands and held the flowers up to her nose. “Orchids are my absolute favorite.”

  “It was the least we could do,” my sister replied. “We’re so sorry about Thomas.”

  Mrs. Feng gave a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, I wish these flowers were for different circumstances. It’s hard to believe that he’s gone.”

  I held up the tray of egg rolls like a proud five-year-old in art class. “We brought some food too.”

  “Oh, you girls are just so thoughtful. Your mother raised you right.” She took the egg rolls from me with her free hand and turned to walk away.

  “Mrs. Feng…” I said, stopping her before she could walk away. “I just wanted you to know that…”

  She turned around, a gentle smile on her face. “Lana, darling, I hope that you’re not blaming yourself for anything. As far as I’m concerned, you could never harm a fly. I know without a doubt in my mind that you couldn’t have possibly known what was in that bag.”

  I took what felt like a first breath since I walked in the door.

  “If anyone is to blame, it’s that Peter Huang.” She shook her head in disapproval, her face hardening. “That boy is trouble. I’ll never understand why your mother decided to hire him.” She paused. “Well, I’m sure she did it as a favor to Nancy. That woman could never control her own affairs.”

  “I don’t think that Peter would do anything to hurt Mr. Feng … or anybody.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that when the coroner’s report comes back with the full results.”

  We stood in an awkward silence for a moment. I felt marginally better about myself, at least. But now I worried about Peter’s fate considering how convinced Mrs. Feng seemed to feel about his guilt.

  Mrs. Feng switched gears and put on a bright smile. “I’m just going to put these things in the kitchen and I’ll be right back.”

  While we’d been talking, Kimmy and her mother had returned to the love seat, and by the placement of the teacup in front of the couch, I assumed Mrs. Feng was sitting there. I chose the chair off to the side and let my sister sit by Mrs. Feng.

  Sue smiled, her plump cheeks rising underneath her eyes. She gestured to the teapot resting on a delicate blue and white porcelain platter. “Would you like some tea?”

  My sister and I nodded and Sue poured two cups, handing one to each of us.

  “How is business at the noodle shop?” Sue asked, turning to me. “I’ve been meaning to come see your mother, but I haven’t had the time.”

  “It’s going pretty good,” I replied. “It’s starting to pick up now that the holidays are right around the corner.”

  “We’ve been slow at the video store.” Sue looked down at her tea. “Too slow.”

  “My mom had to get a second job delivering newspapers,” Kimmy added. A hint of bitterness touched her words.

  Sue clucked her tongue. “Kimmy, you don’t need to tell everyone our business.”

  “Oh, Mom, who cares?” Kimmy said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like they’re strangers.”

  Mrs. Feng came back and took her place next to my sister. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing important,” my sister replied, beating the others to the punch. “Just business at the plaza.”

  “Oh, the plaza. Thomas did love that place…” Mrs. Feng sighed. “Asia Village was his pride and joy. It won’t be the same without him. He’d dreamed about building an Asian shopping center ever since he was young.”

  “What’s
going to happen to the plaza now that Mr. Feng is gone? Are you still going to raise the rent?” Kimmy blurted out.

  “Kimmy!” Sue gasped. “You shouldn’t ask Mrs. Feng about that right now!”

  “It’s okay, Susan,” Mrs. Feng answered good-naturedly. “I’m not sure yet, Kimberly. Thomas left instructions in his will on how he wanted things handled, but I haven’t reviewed it with our lawyer just yet. There’s so much to be done,” she said wearily. “But I’ve never heard any talk about increasing the rent prices. It might be something he discussed with Ian.”

  “My parents can’t afford a rent increase or we’ll lose the shop. Then you’ll have another empty storefront on your hands.”

  “Kimmy!” Sue set down her teacup. “Donna, I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no, Susan, it’s really all right. Grief is different for young people. I understand.”

  My sister and I gave each other a look from across the coffee table.

  “I think we should get going,” Sue said to the group, her face a bright shade of pink.

  “Really, please don’t feel that you have to go,” Mrs. Feng replied gently. “The Lee girls have just arrived.”

  Sue looked at her watch. “I should get back to the shop anyway. Daniel needs to get to his other job soon.”

  Kimmy stormed out without saying anything more and the rest of us just looked at each other, unsure of how to react. I set down my teacup and rose. “I’ll just go check on her while you say your good-byes.”

  I found Kimmy outside, leaning against her car, staring out into the street. She’d lit a cigarette and puffed deeply on it. As I approached her, she glanced at me, smirking. “Sorry. I get so mad when my mom brings up business. She doesn’t want people to know we’re struggling, but then she goes on and on about it behind closed doors. Then I’m the bad guy because I’m not willing to sugarcoat things.”

  I leaned against the car next to her. “It’s that bad?”

  “Sales keep dropping and I have no idea how to help them.” She took a long drag of her cigarette and let the smoke float lazily through her lips. “Both of my parents are working second jobs now. My mom has been devastated ever since she found out about the rent increase. We can’t afford fifteen percent added to our rent. That’s why I went to see him the other day. I wanted to convince him that he was making a mistake.”