Her face was clear of the mask, but the damage was undeniable. The crowd murmured angrily. Dina said, far more loudly than necessary, to the woman next to her, “That’s the trouble with some of these homemade organizations. No quality control. No consistency. That’s how lawsuits happen.”
Some of the more expensive suits assumed disinterested expressions and melted away at the magic “L” word.
Ji-huen looked at the bowl, and sniffed it. Then she scowled, and stood up to get the tea tree oil bottle. She opened it, sniffed it, and turned on Dina like an avenging Fury. “What did you put in this bottle?”
Nari gasped from her platform perch, and waved at me frantically, mouthing, “Told you so.”
Dina’s eyes went wide and her mouth opened and then shut, before she said. “What are you talking about?” Her expression sharpened as she realized everyone was now staring at her.
“This isn’t the tea tree oil I pressed myself. The color is wrong, there is no odor! You switched the bottles to ruin my demo!”
Dina glared at Ji-huen. “That’s cute. You’re just trying to cover your own mistake. We all saw what you did to that woman’s face with your unscientific hoodoo!”
“How dare you slur our traditional medicine as unscientific?” Ji-huen towered like a goddess of righteous anger on the stage. “My products are made in carefully controlled small batches, while yours are made in giant vats by unskilled people paid with pennies. My ingredients, home grown in my garden, organic, free of pesticides or other chemicals. But you, you hired this woman to come and knock over my products so you could sabotage my demonstration. Everyone saw you touch that bottle. You must have switched them.” She pointed an accusing finger at Dina Chang, who tried to take a step back, bumping against the crowd behind her.
Hwuen and Sumi stepped forward and flanked their mother, arms crossed over their chests as they glared down at Dina.
Dina Chang turned with a confident smile toward the crowd, starting to say, “Can you be…believe this,” but the words and smile both faltered as she realized there were no friendly faces looking back. Her face turned back to stare up at Ji-huen, shock and realization warring in her expression.
“That—that’s slander,” Dina Chang managed to say, “You can’t say that. You have no proof! How dare you.” She pushed her way through the crowd and fled back to her booth.
Ji-huen took a deep breath, and smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will be redoing this demonstration with the correct ingredients in one hour. Thank you all for your interest in Salanghada!” She, Hwuen, and Sumi began cleaning up the stage.
Nari came floating over to me. “Rosa! Rosa, did you see it?”
I looked at her. Her face was so open, so hopeful. “Yeah, Nari. But we should talk about it later—”
Nari grabbed me by the hand, and was dragging me toward her aunt with surprising strength for a fifty-kilo vegan.
“Imo Ji, Rosa saw what happened!”
The expression that Ji-huen turned on both of us, surprise and fear in her eyes, made us both stop.
She looked from one of us to the other, and managed a wobbly smile. “What did Miss Park see, Nari?”
Nari looked at me. “I don’t…she didn’t say yet.” Her expression grew uncertain as she looked at my face.
“I saw a great performance,” I said. “I hope you paid that woman well.”
Ji-huen’s chin lifted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Paid who? Nari?”
“Louise,” I said.
“What? What are you talking about?” said Nari, “Rosa, you mean Dina paid Louise, right?”
“No.” My eyes never left Ji-huen. “I mean your aunt set the whole thing up, to smear Dina. Now if Dina tries to claim that Salanghada has quality control issues, or brings this incident up, she’ll ruin herself. Her word’s been ruined.”
Nari stared. “How? You can’t know that, Rosa. Imo would never do such a thing.” She turned to her aunt, reaching a hand toward her, but the words died on her lips at the defiant and embarrassed look on Ji-huen’s face.
“Dina was causing many problems, Nari.” Ji-huen whispered, glancing nervously around. “This way, no one got hurt but Louise, and she’ll be better very soon. No one will listen to Dina, and after everyone sees our demonstrations go perfectly this afternoon, we will get the big contracts!”
Nari’s hands dropped to her sides, and she said, confused, “I don’t understand. I thought Dina…”
I said gently, “There’s no way that Dina could have made a duplicate bottle in time that would fool someone who used these bottles every day. She also didn’t put anything in it. I was watching her, and she used the same hand to pick up the bottle and hand it back to your aunt. She looked at the label, but otherwise she did nothing to it. Whatever made Louise react was already in that bottle. Add that to the fact that your aunt told her not to scratch, saying, ‘I told you.’ They had supposedly just met. When did she tell her not to scratch?”
“Maybe Dina switched it before the show!”
“When? Are you trying to tell me that none of the four of you would have seen her approaching the booth during set up? And the convention security cameras could disprove that in a minute.”
Nari turned to her aunt. Her lips trembled. “But imo, that poor woman.”
Ji-huen stared at the melting face of her campaign, and whispered desperately, “Nari, I paid Louise, all right? But please, calm down. It was just, just a play.”
“Except for the fact that you’ve discredited an innocent woman,” I said. “And you risked Louise’s life.”
“I am hanui! I would never risk her life. It is just an irritant. And that woman is not innocent,” Ji-huen hissed. “She’s been trying to destroy my business for months with her lies. I had to protect our livelihood, our traditions, our family.”
“Yeah, that makes it okay for you to destroy hers,” I said. “Nari, I’m going to go. We’ll do lunch another time.”
Nari nodded, still looking stricken. “Oh. Okay, Rosa. Thanks for staying. I-I’m so sorry!” She turned and ran for the bathroom, silk skirts trailing like the tail of a comet.
Hwuen scowled at me. “You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut? You don’t understand the business of beauty culture.”
Ji-huen said, “What are you going to do?”
I looked at all three of them, the fear, and the resentment in their faces. “I’m going home.”
Relief warred with suspicion. Sumi said, “That’s it?”
“Confucius says if one’s actions are motivated by profit, one will have many enemies. You all deliberately injured someone, caused her pain in a way that would make your ancestors sick, using the traditional recipes that are the treasure of your family in order to strike at an enemy in a cowardly way. I hope the woman you injured is a reliable, honorable sort, because she can now blackmail you into eternity.”
Ji-huen paled, her lips thinning.
I nodded. “Normally, I consider blackmailers the scum of the earth, but in this case, I think Louise is owed a little justice for injury. Better hope you don’t make it big, because nothing makes leeches fat like another’s good fortune.” I started to turn away, and then I stopped and looked back.
“Oh. And if something unfortunate happens to Louise or whatever her name really is, better believe I’ll find out, and I’ll make a point of letting the officials know the truth of this incident.”
“You are a horrible person” said Aunt Ji, her eyes stricken and her lips trembling. “I would, I would never…”
I turned back toward the door and kept walking. At the door, the gate guard looked at my special wrist band. “Leaving already? You know this is a one-time-only band, right?”
“Realized I didn’t need any help looking in the mirror,” I said.
He squinted back at the room as he cut my bracelet off. “Bet a lot of them in there would kill to say that.”
“I wouldn’t take that bet.”
“Me neither.
Have a nice day.”
Back to TOC
Dead Man’s Hand
Karen McCullough
Caroline’s hand shook as she stuck the key in the door of her home. She hadn’t been inside since that hideous night a week ago, when she’d found her husband’s body on the floor of his office. The police had kept her out while they investigated his death.
Emptiness echoed through the place as she walked in, the silence louder than her footsteps on the hardwood floor of the hall.
She stopped for a moment in the kitchen. She’d have to clean out the refrigerator, replace all the staples, sort through the accumulated mail, do laundry. The white board over the desk caught her eye. It bore a note from George reminding her to pick up his gray suit from the dry cleaner. He must’ve written that between the time she’d left to go shopping and his death a few hours later. A tidal wave of grief washed over her, blotting out everything else. What was the point of doing anything with George gone? She dropped into a chair and cried, letting the tears flow in a way she hadn’t been able to while staying with her sister-in-law.
When the spasm wore out, she blew her nose, and sat up straight. Before anything else, she needed to face the hardest test, to go back into George’s office.
She steeled herself and opened the door. The strange aroma that she’d smelled in her dreams since that night lingered—gunpowder, blood, excrement—and there was something new, a chemical tang. Nausea surged through her. She covered her mouth and made herself survey the dark stains on floor and wall.
When she’d had all she could take, she backed out quickly. Everything else could wait until the cleaners who specialized in crime scenes had done their job.
She retreated to the living room and sank into the couch. George had handled all the financial things, not just because he didn’t want to talk about the cost of his gambling, but because he was also a control freak and it made him nervous to leave it to anyone else. Before his death, she’d lived with the stress of his gambling addiction. When he locked himself in the office for hours, when he refused to discuss their finances, she’d tried to convince herself it was all right. He gave her a generous allowance and the credit cards were never refused; no bill collectors ever called. Now, not only did she have to grieve for the man she still loved, she had to come to grips with how he died.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. The caller ID said it was Jeff Campbell, her lawyer.
“Caroline?” Jeff said. “I hear the police are closing the case. Calling it suicide.”
“They are. I still don’t believe it.”
“Even without a suicide note it sounds like the coroner was convinced he shot himself.”
“I know. But I’m not. We need to talk.”
“Of course. This afternoon?”
She agreed to be there at two. As she hung up, the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of the cleaning crew.
While they worked, she retreated to a corner of the dining room and booted up George’s computer. The police had found nothing incriminating on it, but they didn’t know all the things she did.
There were several emails to and from his nephew on the day of George’s death. The last one made her gasp and read it through twice.
Dave—
This can’t go on. It’s starting to drain my resources and you and I both know it’s not healthy. One way or another, it’s got to stop. I can’t support this anymore. Let me know when you can come by to talk about it.
George
George had always treated Dave as the son he never had. Dave’s mother, Margaret, was divorced and George was the only father figure Dave had. George enjoyed the role. He’d even loaned Dave the money to start his own engineering business. George told Caroline that Dave was repaying the loan on a regular basis and he was proud of him.
So, what did this mean? What couldn’t go on?
She read through the other emails to and from Dave, but they were all mundane business issues, setting up times to meet for lunch or a baseball game, questions about relatives, or discussions of sporting events and the fantasy football league they were involved in. Not even a hint of what had to stop.
The cleaning service continued its work. Their equipment was loud. The workers wore overalls and masks. She wondered when she could call her life her own again, then dug deeper into George’s computer files. She hoped that somewhere in the laptop, she’d find the key to understanding his death.
Jeff Campbell was the family lawyer and a long-time friend of George’s. When she was shown into his office, he stood and came to hug her. “How are you, Caroline? I’m so sorry about George. What a shock.”
“Yes, it was. Is. I’m not sure how to go on. But I have to. George would expect it.” And, she thought, I’ll have to be strong if I want to figure out who killed him.
Jeff took her arm and escorted her to the client chair at the desk. Then he took his seat opposite her. “You already know how George’s will was set up. Fifty thousand to his nephew, plus forgiveness of the rest of the loan. The balance of payments from their parents’ trust go to Margaret for her lifetime, then the principal passes to her son. The rest of his estate goes to you. Most of his accounts and investments are already held jointly with you, so they pass to you automatically. One of his partners in the accounting firm has already approached me about buying out his share of the business.”
“Can you manage that for me? I trust you’ll get a fair price.”
“I can. And there are papers to sign, of course.” They spent the next thirty minutes dealing with the details of the estate. Once that was done, he said, “This wasn’t the only thing you wanted to talk about.”
“No. I still don’t believe George killed himself.”
“I get that. But there’s not much you can do about it.”
“But protect myself,” Caroline said.
Jeff’s eyebrows rose. “You think you’re in danger, too?”
“I think it’s entirely possible I’ll find out why George was killed and that may well lead me to who did it. The police said there was no evidence of forced entry. The implications are pretty obvious. Plus, I found this in George’s email.” She handed the printout of George’s message to Dave to Jeff. “So, I plan to change the locks, have a security system installed, and learn to use George’s gun. I also want to leave a couple of things with you.” She pulled out a sealed letter and handed it to him. “I put a copy of the email in here and some other things, too. This is to be opened only if something happens to me that isn’t clearly natural causes. I have another copy that I’m giving to the police detective as well.”
“You really think Dave could be involved?”
“I don’t like to think so, but it’s hard to see what else this message could mean.
His expression suggested he took her fears seriously as he pulled out a file folder, slipped the letter in, and then put it in his bottom desk drawer. “I very much hope you’re wrong about this.”
“I do, too. And it’s still possible it was an accident, though I find that hard to believe. But I can’t afford to take the chance.”
Jeff nodded.
“One more thing. I need to know about George’s gambling debts. Am I obligated to pay them?”
“It depends on who he owes and what kind of agreements he signed. Certainly the lines of credit from the casinos have to be paid. Have you any idea how much it is?”
“No. It will take some work to find out.”
“Why don’t you let me do that for you? If you want to just box up all his papers and bring them to me, I’ll be glad to sort it out for you. In fact, since he was a friend, I can just come by and pick up everything. We might be able to pay the debts out of what you get for the sale of his share of the company.”
Caroline hesitated. “Let me sleep on that.”
“In the meantime, if anyone presses you about anything, refer them to me.”
“Will do.”
He stood when she did. “Take care,” he said. H
is tone made the words more than just a social nicety.
Caroline’s head buzzed and warning bells rang loudly in her brain. She just wasn’t sure what they tried to tell her. The minute she got home, she called around until she found someone willing to come out that evening to change the locks. The security company promised to be there the next day.
Her first dinner alone in her house wasn’t as traumatic as she feared since she’d often been on her own when George went on the gambling jaunts he called business trips. But he almost always phoned in the evening to talk. Never again. She let herself have another good cry, but refused to indulge the depression it brought.
The locksmith arrived as she finished her meal, and she did feel more secure, though lonely, once he’d handed her the new keys and left.
She knew she wouldn’t sleep, so decided to face the office now and go through George’s desk and files. The room smelled of carpet cleaner but she thought she could still detect a hint of the coppery scent of blood.
The desk’s center drawer was full of paper clips, pens, pencils, a checkbook, and a few envelopes containing current bills. She glanced through them, noting totals and that none of the bills showed back charges or past-due notices. A second drawer held boxes of writing paper, a stack of legal pads, and a few smaller notepads. The third housed his collection of pipes, along with cleaning equipment and a humidor for the tobacco. The aroma brought back memories of their nights together. She shoved it closed.
The final two drawers held stacks of old computer printouts, newspapers, and printed booklets, relating to football, baseball, and basketball games going back several years. Most showed betting odds on various teams and events.
Caroline sighed and crossed to the filing cabinets. The top drawer held folders of paid bills, one each for the electricity, water, phone, cable, car payments, mortgage, and credit cards. None gave any indication of financial problems. Even the credit card balances were paid in full each month.
Carolina Crimes Page 18
