Egg Drop Dead Page 9

  “Mom, you don’t have to yell,” I groaned.

  “Ai-ya, no one cares, Lana. This is Mommy’s restaurant. I can do anything I want.”

  Megan winked at me. “Hey there, roomie, how was your doctor’s appointment?”

  “Oh, just fine,” I said.

  My grandmother scooted over and I sat down next her, resting my purse on my lap. She smiled at me and tapped her plate. “Eat. Eat.”

  The table was covered in plates. I had yet to eat anything and my stomach grumbled. “I don’t want to leave Nancy to work by herself now that I’m back.”

  Nancy batted my shoulder. “No, you eat something. It is not very busy this afternoon.”

  Without any more argument, I grabbed a teriyaki stick, a spring roll, and plucked some shrimp lo mein off the various dishes.

  Megan laughed at me as I bit into my spring roll. “Doctor’s appointments make you pretty hungry, huh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I tell Lana all the time, she does not eat enough,” my mother said matter-of-factly. She eyed Megan. “You also do not eat enough. Maybe I should cook for you both and bring food for your apartment. You cannot always eat pizza and doughnuts.”

  “We’re fine, Mom.” I made sure to give her my serious face even though I knew that more than likely she would start delivering care packages of random Chinese food. I decided to change the subject and make use of her being here. “Mom … what do you know about Donna’s maid, Rosemary?”

  “She’s okay,” my mother said. She was now focused back on her plate of noodles.

  “Do you think she’s kind of mean?” I asked.

  “Why do you ask this?” My mother eyed me. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I was just curious. This whole thing with Donna has made me wonder if maybe something was going on in that house. I thought maybe Rosemary might be jealous of Alice or something.”

  “I thought you told Daddy you were not going to be nosy this time,” my mother scolded.

  “I’m not being nosy … sorta … mostly. I’m mostly not being nosy.”

  “This is not your business. Donna picks good people to work for her. You do not have to worry about this.”

  I sighed. My mother was not nearly as fun as the Mahjong Matrons. Maybe they would have some enlightening things to tell me.

  We finished eating, and my mother told me it was time for her and my grandmother to head off to bingo. My grandmother thoroughly enjoyed it because she could follow along with her minimum English.

  A-ma was all smiles, her silver front teeth sparkling in the restaurant lighting. “Lana, you come.”

  I waved my hand no and smiled apologetically. “No, A-ma, you go. Have fun.”

  “Lana,” my mother sang. “A-ma wants you to come. You should come with us. It will be nice to have more family. Anna May will come, too.”

  I groaned. If there was anything I disliked, it was bingo. “Mother … I have to work.” I swept my arm out as if displaying the restaurant.

  “You will hurt A-ma’s feelings,” my mother returned. “You can come after work. We like to play all day. This is no problem.”

  “Anna May’s not going to go. She’s got too much going on.”

  My mother batted her hand, dismissing my protests. “She will go. You worry about you. We will see you later, okay? Be a nice girl.”

  Through clenched teeth, I wished them good luck as they left and willed the universe to swallow me whole before five o’clock. After I was done throwing my mental tantrum, I sent Nancy on a break and headed up to the hostess podium with Megan. All the tables had cleared out except for two businesswomen who looked to be deep in conversation.

  “So…” Megan said, keeping an eye on the businesswomen while I faced the door. “What happened?”

  “Well, I’m stuck going to bingo with my family tonight. That’s what happened.”

  Megan chuckled. “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant about the case and your progress.”

  “Oh, that.” I shook the thoughts of bingo out of my mind. “I hate to admit that Kimmy might have been right about Rosemary. But I also have my reservations about it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I told her about my encounter with Brenda Choi and how she seemed to be putting the idea in my head. Not to mention the fact that Alice had suggested she wanted to work for Donna.

  “Well, here’s something more interesting. I hit some pay dirt on Alice’s social media.”

  “You did?”

  “Yup, I’ve been sifting through her junk since I woke up today,” she said. “Does the name Bryce Blackwell mean anything to you?

  She was being coy about it, but I wasn’t following. “No, should it?”

  “Yes. He was the DJ at Donna’s party. Do you remember him at all?”

  “Not really. He stopped me on his way out to ask where Donna was because he needed to be paid, but that was about all the interaction we had. Why, what’s the big deal with him?”

  “Apparently he was Alice’s boyfriend for a while.”

  “What? But I checked her social media, and I didn’t find anything like that.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, I was sifting through her junk for a while. I went way back. It was at least seven months ago. Then all of a sudden their posts stopped being about each other.”

  “It kind of fits together now. I think Donna told me that Alice recommended him, too.”

  “Okay, call me crazy, but would you recommend your ex-boyfriend to work your current employer’s party?”

  I snorted. “No ex-boyfriend of mine, I can tell you that.”

  “So maybe he couldn’t let go or something. She tried to be friends with him, does nice things for him like get him jobs, he mistakes her kindness for wanting to get back together, and when she says no, he takes her for a swim.”

  I sighed. “You’ve been watching too many dramas again.”

  “It’s totally plausible and you know it. This might not have anything to do with the thumb drive at all.”

  “Yeah, but then where did it come from?”

  She shrugged. “That might be a bad coincidence. Given Donna’s history, I think we both already know that someone might be coming for revenge. If anyone from Donna’s father’s past found out who she was, it could put the whole Feng family in danger.”

  “This is true.” I weighed the likelihood of these two instances happening at the same time and not being connected.

  “If it all tied together, I hate to say it out loud, but I think one of our suspects might end up being a hit man.”

  * * *

  The term hit man stayed with me long after Megan left the restaurant. It followed me through taking care of customers, totaling out receipts, and finalizing the bank deposit. I didn’t even want to consider it as an option. Like Megan said, it had been in the back of my mind this entire time, but I wanted it to stay there. Far away from any other thoughts I had about what really happened that night.

  It seemed to make more sense the more it crept to the forefront of my mind. The only person who had this information on Donna was already dead. Thomas Feng had hired a private investigator to obtain the information, and that was the only open trail as far as I knew, other than myself. And since we had destroyed everything Thomas had acquired from the PI in fear of someone else finding it, I couldn’t see how this thumb drive could exist.

  So because it did, in fact, exist, where else could this unknown person have gotten the information? All that I could come up with was that they were connected to the original situation with Donna and her mother. An angry relative, or maybe a mob associate of Donna’s father looking for revenge. Here’s Donna Feng in her nice, new shiny life, living it up without a care in the world. Sure, her husband was murdered, but had it stopped her from having a cushioned life? I didn’t like to admit it, but it had barely slowed her down. Suppose this person had found out who Donna really was and had been spying on her, watching her almost flawless life
unfold while they suffered painful memories of Donna’s father “accidentally” being killed. Revenge could be a powerful motivator, and if Donna’s theory was correct, it would make sense that this person would want to take out those around her first—that was usually the best way to hurt people.

  My mind spiraled out of control with these thoughts as I left Asia Village for the day. The only thing that made sense to me was that on top of talking to the people already on my list, I needed to find the PI that Thomas hired and confront them. Maybe they could lead me in the right direction.

  CHAPTER

  14

  My original plan was to go home and relax until it was time to leave for bingo, but that didn’t happen. After walking Kikko around the apartment complex, I called Donna and asked if she could check the thumb drive for the name of the investigation company that Thomas had used to dig up her checkered past. She told me it was called Price Investigations, and the documents had been signed with L. Shepard. We hung up and I did a search online. They were located downtown on Euclid Avenue. I jotted down the address, and then began a search for Bryce Blackwell.

  He had his own website and it appeared that he worked solo. That made things easier. I wouldn’t have to go through a company or receptionist to talk with him. I filled out the contact page and said that I was interested in hiring him for a party, asking for an in-person meeting.

  Then I sat down with my notebook and quickly wrote down everything I had learned throughout the day and what my plan of action should be.

  My first order of business was to get a better grasp on Rosemary and if she was really someone to consider. Right now, there were some factors leading me that way, but I didn’t feel 100 percent committed to it. Just because she came off as a cold woman didn’t necessarily mean she had it in her to drown someone. But I would be a fool not to dig a little deeper.

  I also needed to understand why Alice would specifically ask for Donna. Was it a coincidence? Had she only asked because she knew that Donna was in need of extra help around the house? Brenda did mention that Alice knew all about her circle of friends. Maybe she had heard Brenda talking about Donna in passing. I made a note to get clarification on that fact.

  And who was Alice anyway? Would I be able to find out anything new about her through this Bryce person?

  I spent a few moments speculating that Alice was some type of undercover, stealthy ninja sent from China to expose Donna for who she really was. And then began a manhunt that would inevitably end in Donna’s death. But Donna, being vigilant in protecting her family, got rid of Alice before anything further could come of it. However, if that was the case, then Alice’s death might also mean that someone else would come to take her place in getting revenge on Donna.

  I grumbled. And here I was, accusing Megan of watching too many dramas.

  I scribbled out the idea and started anew with the consideration that Bryce might have actually killed Alice as Megan had suggested earlier. But maybe for different reasons. Maybe Bryce and Alice were the ones working together to blackmail Donna. But that would also lead me back to Donna being the killer to protect herself.

  While I considered that fact, I also came to the realization that it might not be the best idea to have an in-person meeting with Bryce if he were, in the fact, the killer, but talking over the phone wasn’t going to cut it. I would just have to be careful.

  I stared at my page of scribbles and hated every word. I didn’t like any of my options, yet there they were.

  Anna May texted to let me know she was heading to the bingo hall and provided the address. I shut off my laptop, stuffed my notebook back under my mattress, and put on my “Lana the daughter” hat. It was going to be an interesting evening.

  * * *

  If there were such a thing as professional bingo, my mother would definitely be the best player there ever was. I found her, A-ma, and Anna May sitting at a folding banquet table toward the back of the narrow room. Several rows of tables and plastic chairs filled the hall and faced a small stage where an announcer stood with a microphone to call the numbers.

  The seat between my mother and my grandmother was empty and I silently scolded my sister for leaving it open. She knew that sitting next to my mother would mean scrutiny over how you played. Betty Lee did not mess around when it came to stamping numbers.

  I greeted my family with a mumble of hellos and sat down in the vacant chair. Sprawled out in front of my mother were nine jumbo sheets with four cards on each page of randomly placed numbers. To the left of her were three different bingo daubers—she liked to coordinate with the colored border of the pages.

  My sister reached her arm over my grandmother and handed me two sheets and a purple dauber. “Here, I got these for you. I thought you might like three because I know how you are about numbers, but Mom said you’re too slow.”

  I inhaled a calming breath and thanked my sister for the pages, organizing them in front of me.

  My mother handed me a can of Coke and held out a bag of chips. “Do you want this?”

  “I’ll get my hands all greasy,” I said.

  She took them back and put them on the opposite side of her. “You are right, and you are already slow.”

  A-ma grinned at me and pointed to her own bingo sheets. “A-ma feels lucky!”

  I laughed and wished her luck.

  The announcer alerted the crowd that we would begin in a few minutes and that anyone walking around should return their seats. The sounds of shuffling and chairs scraping on the linoleum echoed through the hall.

  As the announcer began to call the numbers, I started to think this would be a good distraction for me. Lately it seemed all I did was work or solve murders. I needed a break from the seriousness of everyday life. I stamped the numbers I had with renewed enthusiasm. Maybe I would get lucky and win some money tonight.

  But as I continued on, my mind—like it tends to do—began to wander back to the mystery of what was really happening. Could I trust Donna? Was she playing me to her advantage? She knew that I was a loyal family friend, and I had already been keeping her secret. And if she were taking advantage of me, what would I need to uncover to find out? Did I want to uncover it?

  Because I had become lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize that my hand was frozen in midair and I had been staring into nothingness.

  You’d better believe my mother noticed, though. She lightly smacked my arm. “Ai-ya, why are you dreaming? You missed many numbers.” My mother quickly stamped my pages for me as I brought myself back to the present moment.

  She gasped. “You have bingo, you have bingo.” She grabbed my arm and shot it up in the air. “Bingo!”

  I stared at the diagonal row on my paper. Hey, look at that. At least I was winning with something.

  * * *

  When I got home that night, I was two hundred dollars richer. Though my mother wanted to celebrate with a late-night dinner, I politely declined and told her that I was tired from the long day. Reluctantly, she let me go home, knowing that I had to open the restaurant in the morning. To celebrate, I pulled some pizza out of the fridge and shared my crust with Kikko. I continued to flesh out scenarios one after the other until it was time for bed. Unfortunately most of them revolved around ways that Donna could be lying to me in order to protect herself. How far would she go to keep her family safe?

  Once I’d officially exhausted myself, I crawled into my queen-sized bed while Kikko burrowed herself underneath the blankets. I went to sleep wishing that some type of answer would come to me in my dreams.

  CHAPTER

  15

  I woke up five minutes before my alarm went off. I lay there anyway, wondering what this day would bring to me. When the buzzer sounded, I forced myself out of bed, shuffled out to the coffeemaker, and pressed the START button.

  Kikko came padding out to see what I was doing. Her curly tail wagged as she waited patiently for me to let her out for morning tinkle time.

  After I finished my morni
ng routine, I set off for work feeling hopeful that I would learn something extremely beneficial to Donna’s predicament.

  I sped through the regular duties of preparing the restaurant for opening. I always made it a point to check each table’s place setting, straighten chairs, wipe down the menus if they needed it, and make sure that there was no shortage of silverware or chopsticks.

  The hands on the clock had barely moved and with time to spare, I went back to my office to check my email and social media until Peter arrived. To my surprise, I had an email response from Bryce Blackwell. I hadn’t expected him to get back to me quite so fast. He said he could meet with me during early-evening hours any day between Monday and Thursday. I responded asking if he was available later this evening. Why not get it out of the way as quick as possible?

  Peter sent a text message letting me know he was at the front door, and I hurried through the restaurant to let him in.

  “Oh good, I thought you fell asleep back there,” he joked as he walked in.

  “Just catching up on some emails.” I locked the door behind him and followed him into the kitchen. “How are things with Kimmy?”

  “Better. She’s calmed down about the whole thing mostly. In a way, I think she lost interest in it.”

  “Good.” And I meant it. The less she tried to get involved, the better. Just because I had a habit of sticking my nose where it didn’t belong didn’t mean it wasn’t better if others stayed out of it.

  The time began to fly by after he arrived and before I knew it, I was unlocking the doors and waiting for the Mahjong Matrons to march in. Without fail, they came in and greeted me with a polite nod as they headed to their usual booth.

  I headed for the kitchen to prep their tea, and when I came back, I had a line of questioning prepped for them.

  “So, ladies,” I said as I set their teapot down. “What can you tell me about Brenda Choi?”