Egg Drop Dead

by Vivien Chien

  We wrapped up our conversation, and she gave me a couple of names I could start looking into before she walked me out to the front door. “Oh, Lana, I am so relieved that you’re going to help me with this. I just knew that you’d believe me and come through. You’ve always been loyal to the Feng family, and it will be greatly rewarded.” She gently squeezed my arm.

  “Like I said, I’ll help however I can,” I said, stepping onto the front steps. As she shut the door behind me, I let out a deep sigh. I really hoped that Donna was as innocent as she claimed to be.

  CHAPTER

  7

  When I got home from Donna’s, I felt that my brain had been overstimulated for the day. She had given me info on a woman named Denise Jung and said they’d had a falling-out at a charity event when Donna told the woman that she’d done a terrible job on the planning committee. Donna was not ashamed to admit that she’d told the woman her choices for catering and room setup were some of the worst she’d ever seen in her life. Apparently Denise had a chip on her shoulder ever since.

  Though it was petty, I’d told Donna to provide me with anything she could think of.

  The other name she gave me was that of Anastasia Wong. The two women had a screaming match when Donna insulted Anastasia’s children’s behavior at the Cleveland Asian Festival back in May. Once Donna made the comment that Anastasia’s children acted much like barn animals, Anastasia took a jab at Donna’s parenting and how Jill and Jessica behaved in public forums. Ms. Chang had broken up the verbal warfare and Donna hadn’t spoken to Anastasia in person since, but she had extended a party invite to her as an olive branch. She was almost certain that Anastasia hadn’t been at the party that evening, but couldn’t be completely positive. She gave me the contact information for this woman, and it was my job to call her and ask if she’d attended.

  Megan was home and greeted me with a somber smile. “How’d it go?” She was sprawled on the couch flipping through a fashion magazine.

  Kikko wiggled her tail at my arrival and hopped off the couch to greet me.

  “Not well,” I told her. “You’re never going to believe what I’m about to tell you.”

  Before hunkering down to give Megan the full scoop, I went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. I needed something to calm my nerves. Once I situated myself on the couch, I went into full detail about my conversation with Donna and the particulars of her childhood.

  “Wow,” Megan said, her mouth hanging open. “So that’s the full story?”

  “The fullest story we’re going to get,” I said. “Her mother has kept the rest from her, and from the way Donna tells it, she’ll take it to the grave if it’s the last thing she does.”

  “Do you think her mother is in danger, too?”

  “It’s hard to say. I mean, we need the proof that this is the actual situation happening. Right now, we know next to nothing.”

  “How are we going to find out?”

  I shrugged. “Donna gave me two names of people that might be suspicious. She said she’d need more time to think on it, so she’s going to get back to me tomorrow.”

  “Who would have thought any of this was real? I mean, did you ever think in your wildest dreams that we’d know someone who had a secret identity and had to hide from gangsters?”

  I shook my head and chugged my beer. “Not on my most creative day.”

  CHAPTER

  8

  Asia Village is not what you’d expect to find in the suburbs of Cleveland. Nestled in the city of Fairview Park is a group of buildings designed to look like pagodas. As you come through the red entry gate with its twin golden dragons, and enter the plaza doors, you’re greeted by beautiful skylights shining on a lantern-covered ceiling, a koi pond filled with healthy fish ready to be fed, and cobblestone walkways that lead to an Asian shopping paradise. There’s a wide selection of themed stores carrying clothing, trinkets, cosmetics, books, and much more. Aside from that, the plaza houses our family’s restaurant, a karaoke bar—that I absolutely refuse to sing in—a grocery store, and a hair salon.

  On my way into the shopping plaza, Kimmy caught up with me from the parking lot. “So, I’ve been thinking…” She took one last drag from her cigarette and put it out in the ashtray outside the front doors. “What if the other maid did it?”

  Clearly Kimmy was skipping the pleasantries this morning. I opened the doors, and as we stepped into the air-conditioned plaza I could feel the hair on my neck stand up from the contrast in temperature. “Huh?”

  “That lady … Rosemary or whatever her name is … maybe she’s the one who killed Alice. You know, to get rid of the competition.”

  “Shhhh.” I did a quick check to see if anyone was nearby, but thankfully it was just the two of us. Kimmy was the type of person that didn’t need a microphone to be heard from far distances. “I doubt it was Rosemary,” I told her. “From what I understand, they weren’t in competition with each other for anything. Rosemary handled completely different functions.”

  “Yeah, but if she was willing to live there and take care of the girls, don’t you think that Alice could have easily replaced Rosemary in the long run?”

  I hadn’t thought of that. And now that Kimmy brought it up, it sure seemed like a good angle. I would have to remember to add it to my list. “We shouldn’t be talking about this. The police have it covered.”

  Kimmy let out a curt laugh. “Okay, Lee, whatever you say. Let’s not pretend you don’t try to channel your inner Veronica Mars when something goes sideways around here.”

  “I do not,” I lied—with a straight face, I might add. Bully for me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Kimmy; I just never liked to let on to others that I was investigating anything, ever. The fewer people who knew what I was getting into, the better.

  “Like I said, you’re not fooling anyone. If you don’t want my help, that’s fine. I’ve got things to do anyway, but I’m telling you, look into Rosemary.” She turned to unlock the gate to her family’s store, China Cinema and Song, and I said goodbye before continuing on to Ho-Lee Noodle House.

  Our restaurant sat next to my new favorite shop, Shanghai Donuts. The sweet smell of baking dough filled my nostrils as I passed by. The storefront it resided in had held a variety of businesses that never seemed to last long. My mother and her friends regarded the space as cursed beyond repair, but so far, Shanghai Donuts was going strong.

  I caught sight of Ruth Wu, one of the owners, in the window and gave her a bright smile before I unlocked the double doors to the restaurant. Since the doughnut shop had moved in, I’d been indulging a little too frequently in my favorite pastry of choice. To make myself feel better, I took Kikko on extra-long walks.

  Walking through the darkened dining area, I maneuvered myself through the rows of black lacquered tables to the back of the room where the panel of light switches hung on the wall next to the kitchen’s swinging doors. Slowly the room came to life. I continued on through the kitchen and headed through another swinging door to the back room that served as a break area. The room was small and held a couch that was most likely older than myself, a TV set from my youth, and a beat-up wooden coffee table. In one corner there was a small kitchenette-style table, and opposite that corner was my office—really, something reminiscent of a broom closet.

  The desk and chair seemed oversized for the room, but just managed to fit with space on one side for me to shimmy around and sit down. There were a few filing cabinets and two guest chairs should I need to reprimand anyone in private. That never happened; usually the only visitor I had was when Megan would stop by. Occasionally my sister would corner me in the office and nearly nag me to death, but since she’d taken this internship at the law firm, I’d received fewer lectures from her.

  I reviewed my Monday morning list of to-do items before heading back out into the dining area to straighten up before our first customers of the day arrived. As I was entering the room, Peter showed up at the door and waved for me to let him in. />
  “Morning,” he mumbled as he slunk past me. Peter wasn’t much of a morning person, either, so we worked well together. “Dude, I already know today is going to be annoying.” He groaned.

  I followed him to the kitchen. “I’m sure it won’t be all that bad,” I said, attempting some optimism.

  He wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, right. The Matrons are going to be all over this Donna thing. And mark my words, Ian will probably come in here at some point today to complain to you. Everyone in the plaza knows that we were catering the party Saturday night, and as soon as they have the chance to question you, you’d better believe there will be a string of people marching in.”

  “Well, I guess you’re going to be busy in the kitchen cooking up all this delicious food for everyone.”

  Peter snorted in return as he turned on the cooking equipment. “Yeah, man.”

  “You’re extra grumpy today. What’s your deal?” I asked, leaning against the stainless-steel sink bins.

  “Nothing, it’s just I had to listen to Kimmy talk about her theories on Donna all night. She wants me to try to get close to the twins to see if they know anything.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and I’m not doin’ it. They may be half blood and stuff, but there’s no way I’m going to try to make friends with that family. They haven’t exactly been the best to me or my mother.”

  “It’s the situation. It’s awkward for everybody,” I said.

  “And I totally get that. I’m fine with the way things are. I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “I wonder why Kimmy is so interested in this situation?”

  “Gee, I wonder,” he said, giving me a pointed look.

  “This has something to do with me?” I asked.

  “That’s what I think.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that other than, “I’ll try to talk with her.”

  “Yeah, well, do it quick, because a man can only take so much speculation.”

  * * *

  The Mahjong Matrons filed in precisely at nine a.m. as they did every morning. The four widowed women were our most loyal customers and also the Asia Village authorities on gossiping. If something was going on, they knew about it.

  Helen, Wendy, Opal, and Pearl stuck to their usual seating arrangements. Opal liked to sit by the window because she was keen on observing what went on in the plaza. Her sister, Pearl, sat opposite her, and the other two liked to sit on the end because they enjoyed the freedom of being able to get up if something dire was happening. They also felt those were the best eavesdropping spots.

  I smiled pleasantly at the ladies and noted how sometimes my life felt a little like an episode of Mr. Rogers. That same cardigan … every day.

  Once they were situated, I went into the kitchen and placed their order with Peter. Really all I had to say was that they had arrived. They ordered the same thing every morning without fail. I prepared their tea and hurried back out into the dining area.

  All four of them were sitting gingerly on the edge of their seats. I swear Helen was kind of bouncing when I returned.

  “So,” Helen started as I set down the teapot. “Can you tell us what happened at the party?”

  The others nodded eagerly.

  I hugged the tray to my chest and studied the four sets of eyes that stared back at me in anticipation fit for a Christmas morning. “I don’t think there’s much to tell other than what everyone already knows. Alice Kam was found in the pool, the police are accusing Donna, and Donna is adamant that she did not do it. They’re investigating … blah blah.” I tried my best to act nonchalant about the whole thing, but I didn’t think it was working. If you get the Matrons too riled up, they tend to go into hyperdrive and rumors fly faster than a 747.

  Pearl leaned toward me and whispered, “Yes, but do you think she did it?”

  Truth be told, I hadn’t decided on that yet. And I felt really guilty about it. I could hardly explain my thought process to anyone outside of Megan, because no one knew the details of Donna’s former life but me … and, well, whoever had left Donna that thumb drive. My reply to them was, “I’m sure that it will all get straightened out soon.”

  The two sisters eyed each other and nodded as if I had confirmed their suspicions.

  Wendy spoke up next. “I have heard many things while at the beauty shop. Ms. Chang’s housekeeper said that she heard from some girl who is friends with Alice that things were getting very bad at the Feng house.”

  “Bad in what way?” Opal asked, barely above a whisper.

  Wendy made a gesture with her hand to insinuate that Donna was hitting the bottle pretty heavy.

  The other three looked down at the table and shook their heads.

  “Do you happen to know what this girl’s name is?” I asked Wendy.

  “Not at the moment, but I am sure I can find out for you.”

  “Thanks, I’d really appreciate it.” I started to back away from the table before they could ask me any other questions.

  But before I could walk away, Helen said, “You be careful, Lana, Donna could be a very dangerous woman.”

  I thought about that statement for most of the morning as I went about my duties on autopilot. When Nancy came in at eleven for the split shift she often worked, I retired to my office to handle some paperwork before the lunch rush officially started.

  With a few minutes to spare, I pulled from my purse the sheet of paper that had Anastasia Wong’s phone number on it. I kept my fingers crossed and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” a woman barked into the phone.

  “Hi, is this Anastasia Wong?” I asked using my customer service voice.

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “My name is Lana Lee, I’m a friend of Donna Feng’s.”

  Silence.

  “I was calling some of the guests from her birthday party to—”

  “Well, you called the wrong person!” she yelled into the phone. “You tell that foul good-for-nothing woman that I ripped up her invitation and let my cat use it as kitty litter. I would never think of going to her party after the way she insulted me.”

  Even though she couldn’t see me, my face was turning red. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Ms. Wong.”

  “As you should be. You shouldn’t be doing her any favors. That miserable woman … I heard about what happened on the news and I am doubly relieved that I wasn’t there. Now if you’ll excuse me, you interrupted a very important meeting.”

  She hung up without giving me the chance to say goodbye. I let out the breath that I was holding. Talk about intense.

  I scribbled a note next to her name that she was not present at the party and went back to totaling receipts from the night before. When I was halfway through my stack, Donna called my cell phone.

  “Hi, Lana, I have that list prepared for you. I’ve also taken the liberty of jotting down a few notes on why I think specific people might be guilty. I thought that would help steer you in the right direction. But truly, I think this is a waste of time. You know my feelings on this subject.”

  “I know, and thank you for entertaining this, Donna, I appreciate that. I’ll swing by after work and pick it up.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I sat for a moment staring at my blank phone screen. Yeah, steer me in the right direction … any direction away from her.

  * * *

  After work, I stopped by China Cinema and Song to visit with Kimmy and advise her to lay off the whole Feng case. She protested a little, as I suspected she would, but when I told her that Peter was concerned about her safety, she mellowed and agreed to stop speculating. Of course, that wasn’t his real reasoning—well, maybe partially, but I didn’t want to say that she was actually just getting on his nerves. Kimmy tends to fight fire with fire. And I knew if I told her the truth, she’d dig deeper into what had happened to Alice Kam just to spite Peter.

  When I got home that evening, Megan had already left for work, so I leisurely walked Kikko around t
he apartment complex while I contemplated what steps I needed to take. By the time we got back to the apartment, I had come up with a list of starting points, and I now had Donna’s list of guests and suspects as well.

  However, I was disappointed to find that she had hardly helped after all. She had starred and highlighted the names of the two women she had already mentioned to me the previous day. The only difference was that she had added their husbands’ names in parentheses. There was also a note about Brenda Choi’s husband. She’d written down that the husbands had not been fans of Thomas and might like to see her suffer now that she was a widow. I didn’t know if that was valid reasoning, but I’ve heard of people killing for less, so I wasn’t going to exclude them.

  The fact that Donna had told me she would take my request seriously, yet didn’t, really perturbed me. Here I had thought she’d provide me with juicy tidbits on the society women she hung around with. But this list she’d given me was almost no help at all. I found it also slightly suspicious and didn’t know if I should take that into account. In the event that Donna believed her own story, it was possible that she was going to have a one-track mind about this.

  Regardless of her reasoning or what I thought was her reasoning, I had to keep pushing forward as best I could. Next to the list of guests, I had my trusty investigation notebook opened to a fresh page. The five-subject spiral notebook was kept hidden under my mattress, and I only brought it out for occasions such as these. Writing down my thoughts as I went along helped keep me organized and on point. I tend to drift and spiral otherwise.

  In the notebook, I jotted down the names Brenda Choi, Anastasia Wong, and Denise Jung and made notes that their husbands hadn’t exactly gotten along with Thomas Feng. I tried to mentally match the names with faces, but I really didn’t recognize who any of these people might be. In parentheses, I put a note next to Anastasia’s name saying that I had already spoken with her and she hadn’t even come to the party. Donna hadn’t mentioned being suspicious of Brenda since they were friendly, and had only suggested her husband. But I was leery of Brenda considering it had been her idea for Donna to employ Alice. So she went on the list.