by Vivien Chien
He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “No … I don’t know if that’s what it was or not. Like I said, she probably wasn’t anybody important.”
I pulled out one of my restaurant business cards. “If you happen to think of anything else, or remember this other person’s name, would you mind giving me a call?”
He took the card and skimmed it over before sticking it in his back pocket. “Sure. I’m being serious, though, you really are like a private detective. You ever think about doing this professionally?”
“No, and I think if I did, my mother would kill me.”
* * *
Bryce left shortly after finishing his beer. Since I was already at the bar, I texted Adam and asked if he just wanted to meet me at the Zodiac for some food and drinks. I didn’t feel like going anywhere else. He agreed and said he’d see me in half an hour.
In the meantime, I filled Megan in on what I’d learned from Bryce. The bar was starting to fill up, and her opportunities to talk to me became few and far between. Before I realized it, half an hour had passed and Adam walked in.
He greeted me with a kiss and sat down in the same stool as Bryce. “And how’s my little troublemaker?”
“Flustered.”
He waved to Megan. “And why’s that?”
I told him the same story I had told Megan about Bryce. I could tell he was genuinely listening and calculating the information as if he were on duty. He took a minute to consider what I’d said before answering.
“It’s odd he’s not open to talk about their relationship, almost as if he wants to distance himself from what actually went on with them.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” I said.
Megan came by and dropped off a bottle of beer with Adam, eyeballed my drink, and scurried off to tend to the other patrons.
“But,” he added after sipping his beer, “that can be a lot of men. Other than that fact, I don’t know if there’s anything that makes this guy a suspect. It’s pretty flimsy.”
As we talked about the situation and various angles, I took a moment to appreciate the fact that this conversation was even happening at all. A few months ago, Adam’s main objective was to keep me out of anything of this nature. We’d come a long way in the short time we’d been together.
It also made me contemplate my own situation concerning Warren and whether or not it actually mattered to me to let him speak his piece. Or how important it was for me to even speak my own. That time of my life was gone, and it truly needed to be laid to rest.
On the other hand, as I was learning from Donna’s situation, if you don’t deal with your past, it’s gonna come back and bite you in the bupkiss.
CHAPTER
17
It was hard to believe that it was already Friday morning. Any other Friday, I would be busy preparing myself for an evening at the night market, but with everything that had happened the previous week, I’d canceled our booth until I had more time to focus. I’d been partially concerned that my mother would pitch a fit over me canceling a moneymaking opportunity, but with what had been going on with Donna, I think it was the furthest thing from her mind. I kept my fingers crossed that she wouldn’t suddenly notice.
As I readied myself for work, I reflected on the past week and wondered where the time had gone—and reminded myself of everything that still needed to be done.
I made a quick list of what I wanted to accomplish by the end of the day before I left for work. By the time I made it to Asia Village, I had already tired myself out just from thinking of all I had on my plate.
One of the first things I needed to do was check in with Donna and see if she had any news to relay. I had yet to meet with Ms. Chang’s maid, Susan Han, and wondered if Donna could help coordinate that. And hopefully, she could connect me with this Evie person as well. Aside from that, I’d been so busy, I hadn’t even gotten the chance to use my earring story on any of the other starred women from Donna’s list. Then there was still the business of talking with whoever L. Shepard was at Price Investigations.
I would never admit it to her, but the lack of my sister being present at the restaurant really screwed things up. I decided it was time to call in my last resort. Vanessa Wen.
Vanessa Wen is our entirely too bubbly teenage helper. Her parents had asked my mother a while back if Vanessa could help out around the restaurant to learn the value of money and earning your keep. And of course, my mother had said yes, because what better lesson is there for a teenager to learn?
Meanwhile, I was stuck dealing with her most of the time.
I think once you’ve left your teen years, you always find yourself saying things like, “Man, I didn’t act like that at their age.” Or “Wow, don’t they have it easy?” So really, could my judgments on what Vanessa was actually like be accurate? Probably not, but she still annoyed me.
Megan had told me on several occasions that I needed to practice patience and that Vanessa was a good outlet for that. But what did she know? She worked in a bar, and teenagers weren’t allowed in.
But alas, I needed the help and it was summer, so she was available if I needed her. To my surprise, she’d even offered to work any extra hours I threw her way. Once I got in my office, I made a note to call Vanessa around ten a.m. and see if she was available. If I could leave a little after lunch, I could get a lot done with that extra couple of hours.
The morning passed per usual. The Matrons came in and gossiped, my mother called to make sure that everything was running smoothly, and Nancy showed up around eleven.
Vanessa had agreed to come in at one p.m. She strolled through the door at exactly one, chomping on her gum, her head bopping back and forth to whatever she had playing in her earbuds. I thanked her for being a lifesaver.
She removed one earbud as she approached the hostess station. “Hey, Lana! Thanks again for calling me in. There’s a concert I want to go to and I could really use the extra money to buy a ticket. They’re not cheap and my mom said if I want to go, I have to pay for it myself.”
I could hear the noise coming from her earbud. “How loud do you have those on?”
“Pretty loud,” she replied. “I basically can’t hear anything when I have them in. I feel like that makes things more Zen, you know? Like I’m just moving to the soundtrack of my life and whatever.”
“Uh-huh, just don’t get hit by a car while you’re at it,” I warned her.
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you sound just like my mom. She’s always like, Pay attention to where you’re walking, Vanessa … or like, You’re gonna blow out your eardrums, Vanessa. But like, whatever, that’s totally not gonna happen. I’m super aware of my surroundings, you know?”
I stifled a groan and shimmied from behind the counter to let her squeeze in and put her things away. “I have a lot of errands to run today, but I’ll have my cell phone on, so just call me if anything comes up, okay?”
“Totally. But no worries, you know? Me and Nancy got this. We gel so well when we work together.” A bubble of laugher escaped. “Gel so well. Ha!”
There was a moment I thought my eyes might roll of their own accord. But I remembered Megan telling me to practice patience. I said my goodbyes to the noodle shop team and headed out to see what I could find out about L. Shepard.
CHAPTER
18
Price Investigations was part of an underwhelming building on Euclid Avenue that housed several small businesses. The directory in the tiny lobby told me that I could find the detective agency in suite 102.
The door to the office had a frosted-glass window with a fading decal of the business name and the words LICENSED DETECTIVES below it. I tried the handle, and the door was unlocked. I stepped into the small reception area to find a middle-aged woman with bright auburn hair sitting behind a shabby desk that might have originated in the 1970s. She didn’t bother acknowledging me as I walked in. I let the door shut behind me and took a step farther in. The nameplate read: MEREDITH WALKER.
&nbs
p; “Hello,” I said, bending my head down to get her attention.
“What can I do for you, dearie?” she asked without taking her eyes off the computer screen.
“I was wondering if there is an L. Shepard that works here?”
Her eyes flitted upward at me so fast I wasn’t sure it happened. “Yeah, who’s askin’?”
“My name is Lana Lee. I had some questions I wanted to ask … them.”
“We charge by the hour, sweetie.”
“Damnit, Meredith!” a booming voice shouted from one of the closed office doors. “Who’s there?”
“Lana Lee!” she yelled back. “I told her she’s gotta pay.”
There was some rustling behind the door, and then it swung open abruptly. A tall, skinny man in a baby-blue wrinkled dress shirt and khaki pants stepped out and gave me a car salesman sort of smile. “Well, hello there, young lady. You’ll have to forgive my receptionist’s lack of enthusiasm. I keep her around because my wife makes me.”
“Watch it, Eddie,” Meredith replied.
He rolled his eyes and stepped around Meredith’s desk to shake my hand. “I’m Eddie Price, pleasure to make your acquaintance. What can I do for you? Have a cheating boyfriend you need us to follow?”
I shook the hand he offered. “If only you’d asked me that a year ago,” I joked. “Actually I’m here to speak to an L. Shepard. They worked on a case a few months back and I wanted to inquire about it.”
“Oh sure, that’s Lydia. She’s my best gal. Well, she’s my only gal, really.” His eyes slid toward Meredith.
She groaned in return.
Lydia? It was a woman? I hadn’t expected that. “Is she here? I’d really like to talk with her, if that’s possible.”
“Sure thing, that’s her office right there,” he said, pointing to the door next to his own. “She should be hiding in there.” He turned to knock on the door. “Lydia! You in there?”
A muffled “Yeah, hang on” came from the other side.
He turned back and smiled, showing all his teeth. “You can have a seat if you’d like. Want some coffee? Meredith should be the one to ask you that question, but she’s involved in an extremely important game of solitaire.”
Meredith finally glanced up. Her mauve lipstick clashed with her hair, and her mascara was a bit on the chunky side. “Do you want some coffee, dearie?”
“No, thank you,” I responded politely.
She swiveled in her chair to face Eddie and crossed her arms. “See? She didn’t want any coffee.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Every day! Every day with you, woman.”
The door behind him opened and a young woman, maybe in her early thirties, with jet-black hair and olive skin stepped out. She was dressed in a loose-fitting black T-shirt, gray skinny jeans, and black dress boots. “What’s all the yellin’ about out here? I’m trying to do some paperwork.”
“This young lady would like to talk to you,” Eddie said, jerking his head in my direction.
She seemed to just notice that I was standing there, looked me up and down, and said, “Boyfriend trouble?”
“Actually no,” I said. I assumed that was a frequent occurrence around here. “I’m here to talk to you about a case you worked on several months ago.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to make an appointment.” She pointed to Meredith. “Our receptionist can help you.”
“It’s about Donna Feng,” I told her. “Well … Thomas Feng was actually the one that hired you, but—”
“Feng, you say?” She gave me another once-over. “You the other woman?”
“What?” I gawked at her. “No! I’m a friend of the family.”
“Come into my office.” She spun on her heel and walked back through the door she’d come out of.
I smiled politely at Eddie and followed Lydia into her office.
“Shut the door,” she said, shimmying behind her desk.
Her office was similar to mine in that there was absolutely no room to move around and truly resembled something more fitting for a utility closet. There were no frills to be found. Her desk was black metal, covered in papers, a landline phone, and a laptop. She had some filing cabinets on top of which were various reference books. There were two black leather chairs that looked like they might have been around since before both of us were born.
“Have a seat. Did they offer you coffee?”
“Yeah, they did, thank you.”
“Best you don’t drink any. It’s kinda crappy.” She smirked. “Anyways, sorry about trying to send you away, I thought you might be a dissatisfied customer or something. I’ve had to deal with that a time or two and it’s not a pleasant ordeal.”
I laughed. “No, nothing like that. I was hoping you could enlighten me on the Feng case. Do you remember it?”
“How couldn’t I? The guy was murdered shortly afterward. I assumed his wife figured out what he was up to and took matters into her own hands. Surprised to hear it was an old friend. Wait a minute,” she said, eyeballing me. “Are you the girl that was in the paper? The guy who killed Thomas Feng held you at gunpoint or something like that, right?”
“Yup, that’s me.” I blushed.
“You got lucky, chickadee.” She leaned back in her chair and gently rocked back and forth. “He’s not out of jail, is he?”
“No, he’s still in. As far as I know, he’ll be in there for life.”
“Good,” she said. “Watch your back if he ever gets parole. You never know with these people. Everyone’s always looking for revenge.”
I didn’t want to think about it. Every now and again, the thought would cross my mind. Would they let him out for good behavior? He was older, so maybe someone down the line would show him sympathy. Either way, though, I knew he had years ahead of him before that option would even be considered. The court case hadn’t gone well for him.
“So, you said you had some questions?”
“Yeah, I was wondering … how were you able to find this information on Donna Feng? From what she told me, there shouldn’t be anybody who can get access to it. Her mother sacrificed quite a bit to make sure it all stayed hidden.”
Lydia nodded in understanding. “Well, all I can tell you is that it pays to have friends in weird places. I know some interesting people. There’s a local guy who knows another guy who handles falsifying international documents—birth certificates and so on. He was the one who led me on the path to figuring out that her current documents were fake to begin with. Once I managed that, it just took a little bit of digging to figure out the rest.”
“But a regular person wouldn’t be able to find this stuff out, right?” I asked.
“Someone like you?” Lydia shook her head. “No, you’d have to have a lot of connections.”
“Like mob connections?”
“Do you have mob connections?” She leaned forward.
“No,” I replied. “I’m just trying to figure out how someone could find this stuff out.” I told her the story of what had happened with Donna and Alice, the thumb drive of information, and how I was the only one alive—other than Megan—who knew Donna’s secret.
Lydia listened to everything I had to say, nodding at the appropriate intervals, and making “hmm” sounds every few minutes. When I finished, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
“Look, you seem like a nice girl and all,” she said. “But this really isn’t in your pay grade, you know?”
I felt my ego’s feathers getting ruffled, and I straightened in my chair. “I’m capable of handling it. This isn’t the first time I’ve … assisted on something like this.”
“Miss Lee—”
“Lana,” I corrected her.
“Lana … that’s all well and fine. I’ve known a few armchair detectives in my day, but if the Chinese mob is somehow involved in this, you’re not prepared to handle it. Trust me on that one.”
“Well, we’re not sure,” I said. “It’s a possibility, but it could a
lso be one of the people that I mentioned.”
“There’s no way any of those people could get that information. A couple of housewives, a DJ, and a nanny? Not a chance.”
I sighed. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was out of my league. “Okay, well, what do you think about the whole Alice thing? Do you think she was involved? Do you think Donna could be guilty? Do you think she was the one with the thumb drive?” The questions came out of my mouth as rapid as gunfire. I could feel everything I’d been contemplating starting to bubble up in a panic.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lydia said, holding up her hands. “Calm down, sister.”
“Right, sorry,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“I can’t answer any of those questions. It’s not my case,” she said. “But if you want to hire me to help you … we can talk payment. It’s not cheap, but if you wanted me to look into matters, then I’d be willing to give it a shot.”
I knew I didn’t have the kind of money it took to hire a private investigator. I was still shoveling my way out of credit card debt. But I knew someone who did have plenty of money. I just didn’t know if she’d be willing to spend it. “It’s a possibility,” I told Lydia. “Could you put together something and I can show Ms. Feng? She may be willing to pay for this.”
“Sure, I can type up a contract and have it to you by tomorrow,” she said. “I don’t know that this woman will go for it considering my past relationship with her now deceased husband. But if you think she’s an open-minded sort of person, I’m not opposed to the whole thing.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. I’m here to help.” She smiled reassuringly. “But I will give you this one piece of advice. You need to stay out of it. If the mafia is involved, you’re not going to be the only one in danger.”
“I know,” I told her as I stood up to leave.
“No, I don’t think you do, Lana.” She stood up with me and shimmied around her desk. “If they’re involved, then your family, friends, and anybody you’re close with would be in danger, too.”
