Milkshakes and Murder

by Christy Murphy

  The three of us sat down at the dining room table. An open laptop with a bunch of catalogs scattered around took up most of the space. Mrs. Cryer pushed the laptop aside without closing it and stacked the catalogs as the three of us sat down. "I've been buying a few things to get ready for Katie. Her plane comes tomorrow, but her stuff arrived today."

  "Your sister is moving in," Wenling said. "You're not leaving town?"

  "No need to leave town now," Mrs. Cryer answered. "The wicked jerk is dead. And I have you two thank for it. Be right back." Mrs. Cryer stood up and practically danced into the kitchen just off the dining room. It was like ours, no door.

  Mom called after her. "Actually, we didn't kill your husband, Nancy. We're here to try to figure out how he really died."

  Mrs. Cryer came back in with a pitcher of tea, a small stack of paper cups, and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. She set the stuff on the table and poured drinks without asking us if we wanted any. "Well if you didn't kill him, tell whoever did thank you for me," she said. "Saved me the trouble. I’ll be right back with the paper plates. Pardon the disposables, but I don’t want to do dishes. Too much to do."

  She left and returned with small plates and dealt them out like cards. "Now that he’s dead I can have people over. It’s only been a day or two and already visitors! So many people hated that man, and by extension, I’m sure didn’t want to even get to know me."

  Mom and Wenling traded excited looks. "Do you think there's a lot of people who wanted him dead?" Mom asked.

  "Have you met my husband?"

  Wenling laughed.

  "He might have been murdered," Mom said.

  "Will that interfere with me getting the insurance money?" Mrs. Cryer asked.

  "No, that’s suicide," Wenling answered. "And that’s only in the first two years."

  "It’s so great to have friends to give me this kind of information. We can be friends now, right?" Nancy asked, her eyes eager. It occurred to me that Nancy Cryer might be a very lonely woman. I related to being lonely and in a bad marriage. My last year with Robert, I'd never felt lonelier in my life. My heart went out to Nancy, even if she was dealing with her husband's death in a bit of an abnormal way. People grieve differently.

  "Of course," Mom said.

  "He isolated us so much," Nancy continued. "I must seem like a ghoul being so happy, but living with him got so hard. He controlled everything. I couldn’t say what I thought. Talk to who I wanted. Do anything without his approval. It was so…" she searched for the word.

  "Oppressive," Wenling said, her voice sad.

  "Exactly," Nancy beamed.

  Wenling perked up, but the flash of sadness and the word "oppressive" stuck with me. I’d never heard Wenling talk about her life in China. I’d known from my mother, that when somebody avoids talk of her past, there’s usually a lot of pain there. I didn’t know too much about certain aspects of my mother’s childhood. Or about what happened to her sister. My mind flashed back to the case filled with papers in the closet. I needed to talk to Mom about that.

  Distracted, I missed chunks of the conversation and hadn't noticed until I heard the doorbell.

  "That's going to be the ceiling fan installers," Nancy said as she got up. "You can look up the address on my computer."

  "Kid," Mom said. "It's right next to you. Ask googles for the address to Brent's old business in San Fernando."

  "I like her," Wenling said. "I don't think she killed him

  "What's the name of it again?" I asked.

  "Howard's Housewares," Wenling said. "Stop daydreaming."

  "Sorry," I said as went to the computer. But as soon as I typed in the letters "Ho" The predictive text on the search engine popped up a bunch of choices including "How to poison your husband" "how to kill" and a bunch of others that didn't look good for Nancy Cryer.

  "What's wrong, kid?" Mom whispered. My face must've revealed my concern.

  I shushed Mom and waited until Nancy led the contractor into one of the bedrooms, and then showed Mom and Wenling.

  "I guess I was wrong," Wenling said.

  "Not necessarily," Mom said.

  We heard Nancy coming back into the room. Mom and Wenling quickly returned to their seats. Mom instructed me to get the address like nothing happened.

  "I can't wait for you to meet my sister," Nancy said. "I hope we all can be such good friends."

  "You should come by the restaurant when it reopens," Wenling said, digging into the bag of cookies like nothing had changed.

  "We're there every afternoon," Mom said.

  All I could do was nod. Mom and Wenling were much better at acting natural in the company of a possible murderess than I was.

  Meatloaf and Mayhem

  "So that's it?" Wenling said as we walked down the sidewalk to our catering van. "We drink cold tea, eat store-bought cookies from a bag, and find out she poisoned her husband. This doesn’t make up for you closing my restaurant."

  "We can't be sure she did it," Mom said.

  "I'm hungry," Wenling said. "You buy me dinner." Wenling opened the passenger door so Mom could slide in first. Mom glared at Wenling. Mom didn’t want to sit on the hump. Wenling raised an eyebrow, and Mom gave in and slid into the van.

  "It's only two in the afternoon," Mom said once she was inside. "We ought to check out his partner. These things can get complicated."

  "I knew this detective work might not be fun so I called the diner to find out the special today. It’s meatloaf," Wenling said.

  "You mean at the Fletcher Diner?" I asked as I hopped up into the driver’s seat. I hadn't had meatloaf in ages. It sounded good.

  Wenling nodded, shutting her door and clicking her seatbelt.

  "We can visit the partner after lunch," I suggested as I started the van.

  "We should just tell DC and have her arrested. Save the gas," Wenling said.

  "It's only the City of San Fernando," Mom said. "It's two towns over. Some investigator you are."

  Then I remembered. "I was supposed to get that list to DC today," I said, but the truth was I was more heartbroken that we wouldn't have a shot at having lunch together.

  Mom must've remembered the lunch part too, because now she was on board for meatloaf. She whipped out her phone. "I'll tell him to meet us at the diner."

  I put the van into first and headed back to "downtown."

  I hadn't eaten at the Fletcher Diner since I was a teenager in high school. It always felt like we'd be cheating on The Lucky Dragon to eat some place else. As silly as it seemed, I was excited about having lunch some place new, and okay, the possibility of having lunch with DC.

  The small parking lot for the diner was full. I had to park on the street. The place looked busier than normal. We all got out and walked down the tree-lined sidewalk.

  "It's not like people can have ice cream for lunch," Wenling said, noticing the crowd. "I wish you had closed this restaurant instead. Then my Dragon would be this busy."

  "I didn't close your restaurant. The city did, and who called them anyway?" Mom asked.

  Wenling stopped walking. "What you mean?"

  "Usually the city closes restaurants when there are multiple complaints of food poisoning, not just one," Mom said.

  "Everyone said he died of food poisoning, so I guess the city listened. Besides, he did die of food poisoning, it was just from his wife and not your milkshake," Wenling said.

  "But even DC seemed to be looking at other reasons for his death," I said remembering the conversation we had yesterday. "He asked if he’d fought with anyone first."

  "And the only person who even got sick, died. He wouldn’t have called in to complain," Mom said.

  "Maybe it was Al," Wenling said.

  "Maybe," Mom answered.

  "There's DC!" Mom said pointing down the street. "Wenling and I will go inside to get us all a table, and you go and work on the list with him outside. It looks hectic in there."

  DC spotted us and waved. Mom and Wenling h
eaded into the diner.

  I approached DC and smiled. For once, my hair wasn't a total disaster. I wish I remembered I was seeing him today and put on some makeup, but he'd already seen me in my pajamas so I guess it didn't matter.

  "Where'd they go?" he asked.

  "They went inside to get us a table," I said. "It's busy today."

  "I worried I was on my own for lunch this afternoon when I saw the sign at the Lucky Dragon," he said.

  "You didn't know?"

  He nodded his head no. "I guess we better get inside and join them."

  "Mom thinks it'll be awhile before there's a table, and I didn't have time to make the list. We can just work on it out here."

  "Right," he said. "The list."

  For a second there I thought I caught him staring at me. And not in that way that made me feel awkward, but in that way they gave me a little zing.

  "We can sit on the bench across the street by the barbershop," I suggested.

  He led the way across the street without going to the crosswalk at the corner.

  "We're jaywalking, officer," I said.

  "Sometimes I like to rebel just a little. You won't turn me in, will you?"

  I stepped up onto the sidewalk and turned to him behind me. "You'll have to be nice to me or else," I said, trying to flirt but worried I was being weird.

  "I think I can handle that," he said stepping closer. Holy smokes! His smile up close made me melt. Those dimples! That cleft chin. Those blue eyes. I didn’t even think they made men with that cleft in their chin anymore.

  "What are you staring at?"

  "Your chin."

  "I met Kirk Douglas at a book signing once, and he said we must be related because of the chin. Some people think it's becoming."

  I laughed and stared up at him. My brain blanked on all words. It had been a long time since I flirted. Since before I got married. Then, it hit me. I’m still married. What the heck was I doing?

  "We better make that list," I said turning away and heading for the bench. In that moment, I wasn’t so mad that Mom had hired Eddie to investigate my soon-to-be-ex husband. I needed to tie that up. From now on, I would confront things that made me uncomfortable––things like death and divorce. Missing out on life because of fear was too much of a price to pay. As soon as we wrapped up this case, which may be already finished, I’d settle with Robert and talk to Mom about her sister.

  DC opened the door for me, and I stepped inside the Fletcher Diner. The place was packed. I’d never seen it this busy.

  "Let’s see if your mom and Wenling got a table," he said.

  As we negotiated the crowded restaurant, DC put his hand on my back and guided me through the group. It was such a gentlemanly gesture, one I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Robert wasn't big on traditional manners. He was the kind of guy that would walk in before I did without even realizing that perhaps I’d been left behind. And it wasn't like Mom, being too excited to wait. It was him not thinking of anyone but himself.

  We spotted Mom and Wenling at a table by the window. They saw us and waved. Just before we reached the table, Wenling got up and slid onto the other side of the booth so that DC and I would have to sit next to each other. I peeked over at DC, and he didn’t seem to mind. My resolve to settle things with Robert strengthened. A pang of guilt struck me, but I reasoned that this was only lunch–lunch with my mom and her best friend. Perfectly respectable behavior.

  Deep down, I suspected Robert had moved on in the romance arena, but for me, it wouldn't be right to pursue anything with DC yet. It wouldn't be fair to DC either. Besides, I was getting ahead of myself. A man smiles at me, opens a door, and agrees to a group lunch, and my brain decides its romance. Wow. I must be very lonely.

  What I needed to do was help Mom solve this case so our catering business could regain our reputation, and then go about getting my divorce and helping Mom find out what happened to her sister. No more avoiding difficult situations. If I’d been more assertive in my marriage, things might have been different. Or at least I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.

  The people in the booth behind us complained to Shelia, the waitress, about the wait for the food. She apologized and said they weren’t used to such big crowds. Mom elbowed Wenling with a smile. Wenling nodded back. It looked like all was forgiven.

  "They still haven’t taken our drink order yet, and we’ve been here 15 minutes!" Wenling said with a smile. "Nobody ever waits that long at The Lucky Dragon."

  Ah! Now I suspected the real reason Wenling wanted to come here. She wanted to check out the competition.

  "Did you see the waiting area?" Wenling continued. "Half those people are waiting for takeout. They’ll miss my restaurant like crazy by next week."

  "I heard the health department would be done today," DC said. "There’s no sign of contamination. It’s one of the cleanest kitchens they’ve ever seen."

  "We’re still closed for the week. Jennifer is taking the kids to Disneyland and Chef Li left this morning to visit his relatives in Arizona. I cancelled our grocery order and everything."

  "I’m sorry," Mom said.

  Wenling said, "We needed an excuse for a vacation, and besides, the rumors were killing us. But now we know his wife killed him, so it’ll be okay.

  DC's ears perked up. "What do you mean you know his wife killed him?"

  "We suspect his wife killed him," Mom said, glaring at Wenling.

  "We visited his widow today to offer our condolences," Mom lied. "And Christy borrowed Nancy's computer. When she typed in a couple of letters, the what-you-call-it, when the things pop up when you type in Googles?"

  "Predictive text," I said.

  "Aye! Yes, predict text. And googles said things like 'how to poison someone' and stuff like that."

  "So she killed him," Wenling said. "You should go arrest her and get her computer."

  The detective chuckled. "I'm not sure it's that easy."

  "Why?" Mom asked.

  "I can't comment on an ongoing investigation," DC said.

  Wenling rolled her eyes.

  "He didn't die because he fell after poisoning, did he?" Mom asked.

  "I'm not saying. We'll follow up on your lead though," DC said.

  "He must've been hit by something before he fell," Mom said. "The injuries aren't consistent with a fall. Otherwise, you'd have to wait for a tox screen, and the last time it took a month to get that report. That's why you don't think she did it."

  "I didn't say that," DC said.

  "Kid, did googles predict text say anything about hitting someone?"

  "Nothing like that."

  "He was hit by something else, but who and why?" Mom asked herself.

  "You know, this amateur sleuth thing has to stop," DC said.

  Mom smiled. "I'm just looking for the gossip and to let everyone know my milkshake didn't kill anybody."

  Sheila came to take orders. "I don't know about you guys," DC said, eager for the opportunity to steer the conversation somewhere else. "But I'm excited about that meatloaf special."

  "Me, too," Wenling said.

  We all ordered the special, but I could tell Mom's mind was somewhere else, and I knew we'd be going to Howard's Housewares after lunch.

  I watched DC as he walked to his white Ford pickup truck parked across the street. Boy, did he look good just walking. I'd given up fighting my hardcore crush on him.

  "What do you mean you don't want to go?" Mom asked Wenling as we stood on the sidewalk outside of the Fletcher Diner.

  "His wife killed him," Wenling said. "I don't want to go to the City of San Fernando to see the business partner."

  Across the street, DC unlocked his truck, turned, and waved to me. I waved back and didn't even care he'd caught me staring after him.

  "Didn't you hear what DC said?" Mom asked.

  "A bunch of nothing," Wenling said. "I ate too much meatloaf, and now I'm tired. Not that it was that good."

  "The service was slow," Mom said, w
hich I knew was her way of not commenting on the food. Mom doesn't like to put down other people's cooking, and I could tell she'd liked the meatloaf. "You'll have to call Solomon to drive you home. We don't have time."

  Wenling waved off Mom's suggestion and whipped out her phone. "I'll go to the restaurant and watch TV and have Jennifer come get me."

  "What are you two doing here?" an angry voice said. Mom, Wenling, and me turned to see Al standing in the doorway of the diner.

  "Us two or them two?" Wenling asked pointing to her and Mom and Mom and me.

  "You two!" he yelled, but he didn't point so his answer didn't clarify much.

  "Al, why are you yelling?" Mom asked.

  "You're trying to destroy my business, and now you expect to eat here?" he yelled.

  "We already ate," Wenling said, holding up her takeout container of her leftover meatloaf.

  A lady standing near Al laughed. He was blocking the doorway so no one could enter or exit the diner.

  "Well don't come back!" he yelled.

  "Al, let's settle this like adults," Mom said. "Is this about the milkshake?"

  "Ha!" he yelled. "Don't play innocent with me. Karma is gonna get you!" Then he stormed back inside.

  A crowd had gathered on the street, and they all stared at us and whispered.

  "We'll drive you home," Mom said to Wenling.

  "Jennifer just texted me and said she'd meet me at the restaurant."

  "Then we'll give you a ride to the restaurant," Mom said.

  Even though Wenling could walk to the restaurant, she agreed. Main Street in Fletcher Canyon didn't feel like its welcoming small-town self.

  Leads and Lunch

  We dropped Wenling off at the backdoor entrance to The Lucky Dragon. Once she was safe inside, we headed for Maclay Street, bound for the City of San Fernando.

  "He can't be that mad over the milkshake, can he?" I asked Mom.

  "I think he's the one who called the health department on The Lucky Dragon."