Wonton Terror Page 7

  She fell into step with me as I passed her car and we continued on to the entrance.

  “Not really,” I answered plainly. I found it was best not to indulge Kimmy’s dramatics so early in the morning. If people thought Megan and I were bad at going on a tangent, it was only because they hadn’t been formally introduced to Kimmy.

  “I heard they think Sandra and Ronnie were trying to pull an insurance scam and it didn’t go like they planned. Then I heard someone else say they think Sandra killed him on her own to keep the insurance money for herself. Isn’t that totally nuts?”

  “I doubt that’s what actually happened,” I said. “You know how these rumors fly around here. Someone says one thing, and then it turns into this awful game of telephone where the original context is lost. If anything the Chow family are victims, not suspects.” I was proud of myself for saying it like I meant it.

  “Yeah, maybe, but I think there might be some truth to this. I’ve heard they don’t get along too well and the guy’s a total jerk to his wife. Always yelling at her. I even saw them arguing at the night market in front of everyone. How embarrassing.”

  I let the conversation drop there and we said our good-byes in front of the entertainment store. I walked on to the noodle house, taking a glimpse into Shanghai Donuts. I could see Mama Wu preparing the display cases. I caught sight of my favorite doughnuts and I immediately knew that I wouldn’t make it a whole day without one. After I prepped the restaurant for opening, I’d have to pick up some sweets for myself and Peter.

  I tidied up the dining area until Peter showed up thirty minutes later.

  “How’s your mom doing?” I asked, locking the door behind him. “Any progress?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Better, I guess. The doctor is coming to check on her this afternoon and decide whether she can go home or not.”

  “Well, if you need to leave at any point during the day, just let me know. Maybe we can get Lou in here to cover you for a while.”

  “Right on.” He sulked toward the kitchen before I could say anything else.

  I knew this was weighing on him, but I didn’t know what I could do to help. He wasn’t really a “talk through his emotions” type of guy. The best I could do was be there for him in a show of support.

  He busied himself with his morning preparations, and I went about mine. By nine, the dining room was immaculate and I was ready to greet the Mahjong Matrons. Not to disappoint, they all marched in with smiles on their faces.

  After I situated them with tea and placed their order with Peter, I stood at the head of their table unsure of how to start my line of questioning.

  Helen, the largest gossip of the four, broke the silence. “Lana, what is it, my dear? You seem upset this morning.”

  “Well, I was wondering … what do you know about the Chow family?” I avoided eye contact while I said it. I felt like a busybody. Although, considering my audience, I had nothing to be ashamed of.

  They all exchanged a knowing glance as if to say to each other that they knew exactly what I was up to. And that’s exactly what I was afraid of. My only hope was that they would keep my inquiries to themselves.

  Pearl, the eldest of the matrons replied, “The Chow family keeps many secrets. They do not come around like the others in the community.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  It was Opal’s turn to chime in. She was Pearl’s younger sister and whispered rather than talked. “Because of Ronnie. We are almost certain he was the cause. He was a hard man and did not have many friends. He kept Sandra with him at all times.”

  The other Matrons nodded in agreement.

  “Do you know how I would find out more about them?”

  Wendy, who often acted as the sensible one, said, “Neighbors are always helpful people. They see many things. We do not know too much about them, but maybe someone else can help.”

  I thanked them and considered that option as I went back into the kitchen for their food. I supposed I could talk to their neighbors. But the only question was, how would I go about that? Wouldn’t they find it a tad suspicious that I was asking them random questions about the Chow family? Especially considering one of them was just killed. I felt perplexed and slightly let down by the Matrons. I thought for sure they would have some gossip on the Chow family that would help with my investigation.

  The rest of the morning went by at a steady pace. Anna May came in around eleven, covering Nancy’s normal split shift. I sucked down some noodles before the lunch rush started. Anna May and I worked in sync until the crowd died back down.

  The dining room had predominantly emptied, and our only customers left were two businessmen who sat near the window focused on a spill of papers they’d spread out on their table.

  “Anna May…” I sidled up to my sister at the hostess booth.

  She had a law book open and was highlighting the entire paragraph of a page. “Hmm?”

  “Do you remember much about the Chow family?” I was hoping that my sister would remember some tiny nugget of information that could give me a little insight into what type of people they were. Maybe with her being a few years older than me, she had picked up on something I wouldn’t have noticed.

  She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Not really, why?”

  “I thought you might know what happened. Mom used to take us over there all the time when we were little, and then all of a sudden it just stopped.”

  “No clue, little sister. You’d have to ask her about that. I think they had a falling-out or something. Or maybe they just grew apart. You know how things go in the adult world. Especially when families are involved. People get busy, they drift.”

  “How about Ruby Lin? Do you remember her?”

  My sister capped her highlighter and put it down on the counter. “Okay, why are we playing Twenty Questions?”

  “No reason, I was only wondering because Ruby asked about you at the night market, and it slipped my mind until today.”

  Anna May’s shoulders sagged. “There isn’t any other particular reason you’re asking these questions, is there?”

  I could feel my cheeks turning pink. “No, like I said, I’m curious is all. I mean, clearly she knew us as children.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Can you just answer the question and tell me if you remember her or not?”

  “Sort of. I can’t remember much though. I know she used to hang out at Esther’s store a lot. The four of them would play mahjong sometimes.”

  “Four of them?”

  “Yeah, Mom, Esther, Ruby, and Sandra. Then Ruby disappeared first and Nancy took her spot. Sometime shortly after that, Sandra stopped coming too. I think that’s when they gave up on playing.”

  “Why don’t I remember any of this? None of it sounds even the tiniest bit familiar to me. Where was I during the mahjong matches?”

  She shrugged. “A lot of times you were with Kimmy at the Trans’ store playing Barbies or whatever you guys did.”

  “And where were you during all of this?”

  “Usually I was there with them, trying to learn how to play mahjong. But I don’t remember a lot of what they talked about. They’d waste a lot of time gossiping instead of playing the actual game, so I would end up finding a comfortable corner of the store and reading a book until it was time to go. I don’t know if they ever actually finished their games.”

  “So what happened to Ruby and why did she stop coming around? How long after Ruby stopped coming did Sandra stop?”

  My sister blew out a puff of air. “Why does it matter? I don’t know, Lana. We were kids, I didn’t care much about what was going on with the grown-ups.”

  “Okay, fine, geez.” I sighed. “I guess I’ll go in the back and finish some of this paperwork that’s piled up. Come get me if it gets busy again.”

  She waved me away, already focused back on her textbook.

  Once I was in my office, I checked my cell phone to see if there was any wor
d from Calvin. Still nothing. How else was I going to get a hold of him?

  I called Megan to tell her about the bust of a day I’d had so far.

  “Well, Trudeau is still an option,” Megan reminded me after I’d given her a play-by-play. “Maybe he’ll tell you something worthwhile.”

  “Maybe. But what if he doesn’t? What if he doesn’t know anything either? He and that Darren guy don’t talk all the time, so they might not have talked since the night of the explosion. Then I’m back to square one … although I don’t feel I’ve ever really left square one to begin with.”

  “It won’t hurt to bring it up anyway,” she replied. “Still no word from Calvin?”

  “Nope. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t even read my message. I’m sure they have a lot going on with planning services and all that, but I thought he’d at least say something quick and short.”

  “You could always try his uncle’s mechanic shop, right?”

  “True…” I hadn’t thought about going to where he worked. In a small way, it felt intrusive.

  “Also, I think I have an idea. Do you still have the suit you bought for that interview a couple months ago?”

  “Yeah … I already ripped off the tags, so I’m stuck with it. Why?”

  “Maybe the Matrons are right. Maybe we should talk to the neighbors. And for that, I think we may need to go undercover.”

  * * *

  Around three-thirty, Peter got a call from Nancy’s doctor informing him that she was allowed to go home. Anna May agreed to cover the kitchen until Lou arrived, so I was back on dining-room duty until five.

  Everyone had agreed to take extra shifts and work longer hours to compensate for Nancy’s time away, including Vanessa.

  There was only one table of two seated in the dining room, so I loitered in the kitchen watching my sister sauté shrimp, crab meat, and vegetables for a seafood lo mein dish. “How come no one ever bothered to teach me how to cook?” I asked.

  “Because you’ve always been too impatient to learn the recipes,” my sister responded. She kept her eyes on the food as she talked. “After a while, Mom got sick of trying to grab your attention.”

  What my sister was saying, unfortunately, was accurate. Growing up, I’d avoided the kitchen like the plague. I knew if I had too much knowledge in the cooking department, I’d be doomed to the servitude of restaurant work at the family business. Funny how things worked out.

  “Well, there’s no reason I can’t learn now. Especially if I’m going to be running the place. Shouldn’t I learn how to make everything on the menu?”

  Anna May snorted. “You want to learn how to cook? Now?”

  While the seafood cooked, she added steak strips and pea pods to the clean side of the flat-top grill.

  “Yeah, why not?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Don’t you think I could learn?”

  She paused, thinking through her answer. “I think it’s better if you stick to the business side of things, don’t you?”

  I glared at my sister, but I don’t think she noticed. “I could probably cook better than you if I really tried. I happen to be excellent at picking up new things.”

  Anna May smirked. “Okay, little sister.” She took lo mein noodles from the wok sitting on the stove, filled a plate with a generous portion, and topped them with the seafood and vegetables she’d just finished. She filled the next plate with the grilled steak and pea pods.

  Still bitter, I took the hot plates of food and set them on my tray. I could learn to cook Asian food if I wanted. And maybe I would … when things finally settled down.

  CHAPTER

  10

  That evening when I got home from work I found that Megan had already left for her shift. Feeling a bit lost and unsatisfied with my day, I pulled out my trusty investigator’s notebook from under my mattress and settled on the floor next to my bed. I kept it hidden under there so no one would know what I was up to, and the only two who knew of its existence were Kikko and Megan. It was safe to say that my secret was secure.

  I opened the notebook to a fresh page and scribbled some notes to myself about the explosion and listed the people who I thought could be involved. Obviously Sandra had to be listed because of the recent discoveries involving insurance fraud. I listed Calvin because of the negative relationship he was known to have with his father. Gene Tian, due to his odd behavior right before the incident. For good measure, I listed Ruby since she seemed to have some type of grudge against Ronnie and, from what I could tell, a deeper knowledge of the married couple’s relationship than most people had. I also made a note about the possibility of a rival in the food industry. In the half page of scribbles I’d jotted without too much thought, I felt confident that my answer was there somewhere.

  While I was writing out the details of the explosion and creating a timeline of sorts, my phone chirped and to my surprise it was Calvin calling me. My stomach fluttered as I reached to pick up my phone.

  “Hello?” My voice sounded anxious and I leaned back against the bed, taking a deep breath.

  “Hey Lana, sorry for not getting back to you sooner.” Calvin paused. “Everything’s been kind of crazy.”

  “No problem, I figured as much. Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been trying to keep a low profile. We’ve got people all over us asking for interviews … it’s super obnoxious considering I just lost my dad. These people have no respect.”

  He said it in such a matter-of-fact way that I couldn’t tell if he wasn’t upset about it or was trying to keep himself collected for my sake.

  “I wanted to check in with you to see how things were and if you needed anything. I thought you might need a friend.” I felt bad telling that white-ish lie, but I didn’t think telling him that I was trying to rule him out as a suspect would go over very well.

  “I appreciate it. I won’t say that this whole thing hasn’t been an ordeal because, without a doubt, it has. It’s been just one thing after the next since Friday night.”

  Again, he sounded unaffected, almost as if he were reading lines from a script. Had he said these same words to others?

  “Why do you suppose they would automatically point the finger at your mother for this?”

  “Isn’t that what they always do? Blame the spouse?” Calvin asked. “Come up with some half-cocked theory on why the significant other wants the now-deceased party dead.”

  “Maybe,” I replied. “I’ve heard a few rumors … is any of it true?”

  “You mean about the financial stuff?”

  “Yeah, were your parents struggling?”

  “Well, they were having some financial problems … the food truck was doing pretty good, but they weren’t making a whole lot of profit. I think they needed more time to build the business and that’s why they thought the night market would be a good idea. My father had a lot of ideas on how to expand business opportunities.”

  I wanted to ask him if he thought his parents were capable of doing what they were being accused of. And I really wanted to ask him what he and his father were arguing about. But I didn’t think any of it would come out the right way. I began to wonder if maybe Ruby would be more forthcoming with information.

  “Lana? You still there?”

  “Huh?” I snapped back to reality. “Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “Anything worth sharing?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Who do you think would do this to your parents … I mean, knowing their situation, do you think anyone was upset enough with them to go this far?”

  I could almost hear him shrug. “If they were having any other kinds of problems, I wouldn’t know. Neither of my parents tell me much of anything.”

  * * *

  Adam came over around 9 P.M. for a late dinner. It was the first time since we’d started dating that I offered to cook for him. Even though my Asian culinary skills were practically nonexistent, I wasn’t too shabby with other types of recipes. On tonight’s menu were Italian-sea
soned chicken breasts, parmesan-lemon broccoli florets, and garlic and olive oil roasted potatoes. They were some of a handful of dishes that I felt confident making and thought it would be a good place for us to start. And by “us,” I really meant me.

  Since we’d met, Adam and I had been taking things fairly slow for both our sakes. Both of us had been in relationships that left us feeling less than stellar about jumping back into the dating world. But oddly enough it was working out for us since we were both in the same boat. I wasn’t going to rush him and vice versa.

  He showed up at my door about five minutes before the chicken was ready. When he walked in, he inhaled deeply. “It smells really good in here. I am starving.”

  I just hope it tastes as good as it smells, I thought.

  While I finished preparing the meal, Adam entertained Kikko in the living room. I arranged the food on two plates and set them down on the dining room table. “Okay, dinner’s ready.”

  Kikko, hearing the plates clink on the table, waddled into the dining area and planted her butt down next to my chair. Her tail wiggled as she watched my every move.

  “Wow, look at this spread,” Adam said, eyeing his plate with approval. “And here I thought you were going to warm up a pizza.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I didn’t know you could cook. You never talk about it and you’re never in the kitchen at the noodle house.”

  “That is a different story.” I picked up my fork. “Deep below this mask of frivolousness, I do have a domestic side. Now hurry and eat before it gets cold.”

  I waited for what seemed like forever for him to take that first bite. I think cooking—or creating anything in general—is nerve-racking when you’re sharing it for the first time with someone you genuinely care about.

  Finally he took a bite of the chicken. He nodded with satisfaction, a smile spreading over his lips. “Lana, this is great. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  I laughed. “Wait until you try my lasagna.”

  He shook his head. “If you keep cooking like this for me, I’m going to gain a pant size.”