Rice, Beans, and Revenge

by Holly Plum

  “That's funny seeing as she never came back to visit.” Mari shrugged. “Sorry if that sounded insensitive. It's just a fact.”

  “True,” Rex said. “Maybe this is why? Although I sure hope not. Man, my students are going to be crushed by this.”

  “Too bad she didn't stop by to see you.”

  “Yeah,” Rex responded. Mari saw the regret in his eyes. “Too late now.”

  Mari nodded sadly. She heard a scuffling sound on the other side of the aisle, and she saw the manager walking toward her with a clenched jaw.

  “I have to run,” Mari blurted out, reaching down and grabbing Tabasco with both hands. “Listen, how about I come to the school later, and we’ll talk about this memorial service thing?”

  “Sounds good,” Rex said. “As long as you sign-in at the front office. They're really cracking down on letting visitors wander the halls this year.”

  “Okay,” Mari agreed. She grabbed Tabasco and ran for the nearest checkout counter.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lito Bueno’s Mexican restaurant was still closed when Mari finally pulled into the parking lot. She used her key to unlock the front door and made her way to the dining room where she found Detective Price and his assistant Officer Penny dusting for fingerprints and examining the booth where Karlie had been sitting. Mari crept past them on her way to her dad’s office.

  In her father's office, she found Chrissy and her two brothers, Alex and David, huddled together watching the news on a portable TV. David poured himself a cup of coffee from a freshly made pot, while Chrissy clutched a steaming mug full of tea. Her hair was messy and her eyes a were bloodshot like she hadn't slept last night.

  “How can they be accusing us like this?” Mr. Ramirez stated indignantly. The way he raised his voice sounded like he hoped the reporter might hear him through the television. “They ought to have learned by now that we would be crazy to do a thing like this. This is the work of Mr. Chun and the folks at the Lucky Noodle.”

  “Tell that to the town,” said David pointed out. “Even though none of us have been charged with a crime, people seem to believe everything they see on TV.” When his father shot him a furious look, he added, “I’m just telling you I've heard whispers. We'll see what kind of turnout we get for lunch today.”

  “I don’t care what everyone else thinks,” Mr. Ramirez replied. “I already know what they think.”

  Chrissy took a sip of her tea. “I wish there was some way we could raise our standing within the community. We need to go on the offensive, publicity-wise. If only we had a marketing strategist who could help us with that.”

  “Publicists cost money,” Mr. Ramirez said with a wave of his hand. He dismissed the idea as he would a cloud of stench. “And right now money is the one thing we don’t have. If you want to pay for it out of your own pocket, be my guest. I don’t need to hire a guy to tell me how to treat my customers.”

  “But if we could find some way to reach out to the community,” Chrissy determinedly responded, “and show them we’re not monsters that might go a long way toward recouping our losses.”

  “I think she has a point,” David said in Chrissy's defense. “Even some of my friends are afraid to come around here because, as they put it, they don’t want to end up on the menu.”

  “What do they think we are, cannibals?” Mr. Ramirez shouted.

  “I just think it would be a good idea if we could do something to reset the public’s image of us,” Chrissy said faintly. “Something unexpected that would get them thinking about something besides murder when they see our sign on the street.”

  “Here's something unexpected,” Mr. Ramirez said, setting his coffee mug down on the table with a clang. “Coming to work, doing your job, and making good food. Very underrated, in my opinion. Not many people are willing to try it these days.”

  David and Alex both groaned at Mr. Ramirez’s nostalgia-tinged musings. They had spent so many years hearing about how much harder people worked when he was a young boy growing up in Mexico that by now they tuned him out automatically.

  “I have an idea,” Mari chimed in. She strode into the center of the room with Tabasco at her side. “I was just talking with Rex Jones who works at the high school. We were thinking about putting together some kind of memorial service for Karlie as a way of letting the community come together and grieve. Especially the students at the high school—they love her. I think it would be a nice gesture if we catered or contributed to it in some way.”

  Alex and David’s faces brightened considerably after hearing their sister's suggestion, and Chrissy positively glowed.

  “That’s a fantastic idea,” Chrissy said. “See, now that is the sort of thing I'm talking about. Who could still talk bad about the restaurant after that?”

  “Chun will find a way,” Mr. Ramirez muttered. “He doesn't stop.”

  “I still think it’s a good idea,” Alex added. “My only question is, where would we host it? Here or at the high school?”

  “That’s what I’ve still got to figure out,” Mari replied, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “I’m going to drive by there in a couple of hours to meet with Rex and Principal Wells. I should have an answer for you by the end of the day.”

  Alex extended his hand and gave her a high-five. “You’re on the ball, girl."

  Mari grinned, happy to have thought of a way to help her family's restaurant.

  “Well, I think it’s a terrible idea,” Mr. Ramirez said with a frown. “Where are we going to pay for this? We're talking food for hundreds of people, not to mention the extra people who will show up just for the free food. No, I won't do it.”

  “Whatever money we spend,” Mari retorted, “we’ll earn it all back if we manage to get them eating here again. Good publicity is worth its weight in gold. People like eating where they feel safe and comfortable. Murders don’t help them to feel that way, but a small ceremony to honor a fallen idol might do the trick.”

  “It’s unwise and impractical,” he continued to argue, clutching at his neck where a single vein bulged. “You might as well take all our earnings and throw them into the fish tank. You’re asking me to throw away money with no guarantee of a return.”

  David grimaced as if wanting to reply but knowing that there was little he could do to change his father's mind. Mari, however, felt undaunted.

  “Look, a woman died in our restaurant last night, and half the town thinks we had something to do with it. The least we can do is offer some display of respect to let everyone know we’re thinking about her. I know Karlie wasn’t a great person. We all know that. But no one deserves to drop dead like she did. At least, I think so.”

  Surprisingly, her argument seemed to have had some effect on her father. “I’ll consider it,” he said gruffly, raising his mug to his lips with a brooding look.

  “Good,” Mari said in reply. “I'm going to pitch our offer to the high school's Principal today.”

  “Good luck,” David said.

  “Don’t accidentally confess to the murder, whatever you do,” Alex joked.

  Mari laughed. “Thanks. That is very encouraging of you, Alex."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mari spent the afternoon up at the high school trying to sell Principal Wells on the idea of commemorating Karlie Lam. Principal Wells was reluctant until she and Rex managed to persuade him that Karlie was kind of a symbol of success among the student body.

  “Right now a lot of your students are grieving,” Mari told him. “What would help is if they had some constructive way to channel their grief. Otherwise, they’ll continue to grieve, but in ways that you can’t control.”

  “You’ve almost convinced me,” Principal Wells replied, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard. “I have just one question. Who’s going to pay for this?”

  “My family's restaurant,” Mari said with unblinking confidence.

  “Really?” he repeated.

  “Yes." Mari nodded. "As I’m sure you know, my family
runs the only Mexican restaurant in town. We will be happy to cater the food for the service at our own expense.” After I convince my dad, she resisted adding.

  “And as I’m sure you know,” he replied, “your restaurant is currently embroiled in a murder investigation. A significant number of people in town believe Karlie Lam was killed by someone working in your restaurant. Now, whether that’s true or not doesn’t interest me. I don’t think you killed anyone. But I’m concerned that my students aren’t going to want to eat food that was prepared in the very restaurant where Karlie lost her life.”

  Mari was momentarily taken aback, but Rex seemed to have already thought of this.

  “If I may, sir,” Rex said. “Most of the students aren’t going to be paying very close attention to where their food came from. If you set up a table full of food in an auditorium full of kids, they’re just going to eat it. That’s what they do. They’re not going to ask questions.”

  To Mari’s relief and surprise, this was all it took to convince Principal Wells to say yes. By the time they finished their meeting, he had agreed to open up the auditorium for them the following afternoon and let Lito Bueno’s Mexican restaurant cater the food for the event. Exhilarated by her success, Mari gave Rex a quick hug as she walked him back to his classroom.

  “I can’t believe we really did it,” Mari said as hundreds of students surged around them.

  Rex held out his palm for a high-five. “Principal Wells is a pretty nice guy, once you get to know him. Though, hates change. But sometimes all it takes is a little convincing to get what you want out of him.”

  “Well, now we have our memorial service,” Mari responded. “If only Karlie were here to see it, she would be so happy.”

  “That’s the thing about death, though,” Rex commented. “You can’t attend your own service.”

  “Not usually,” Mari added. “Not unless you believe in ghosts. Anyway, I’ll meet you back here tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Yeah, just come through the back door of the gym. I think we’re going to set up a couple of tables. One for the food and one where the kids can place cards, flowers, that kind of thing. If we’re going to start at one, we’ll need about an hour to set up. Believe me that the students are going to be thrilled when they find out they’re getting out of class an hour early.”

  Mari continued to feel blissful as she walked back toward the parking lot outside the gym and Tabasco barked at a squirrel that ran across their paths. Not only because of what she had accomplished but because of what she hoped might transpire tomorrow at the service. If someone had really hated Karlie enough to want her dead, then it was possible they might show up at the service too if the killer was still nearby. In that case, it would be her best opportunity to listen, watch, and gather clues.

  One way or another I’m going to find you, Mari thought. Whoever and wherever you are.

  ***

  Before she returned to work, Mari stopped by the pharmacy and the furniture store to let Robin and Hazel know about the service. Robin had a long line full of customers and didn’t have much time to talk, though she said she would call in her assistant and take the afternoon off. Hazel questioned why a memorial was needed and wondered what good it would do. She also seemed taken back when Mari mentioned that Rex Jones had thought it might be a good idea.

  “When did you meet with him?” Hazel asked.

  “This morning,” Mari answered.

  There was a curious look of unease in Hazel’s eyes that Mari didn’t quite understand. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Mari asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Hazel responded. Mari continued to stare at her skeptically. “It’s just… you know I don’t get out much. I spend most of my time here at the furniture store. Last night was the first night I’ve dressed up and gone out in months. So of course what happened—it was a little bit traumatizing. It’s the kind of thing that makes you want to stay indoors and not go anywhere ever again.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” Mari said with a sympathetic look. “Have you thought about seeing a therapist?”

  Hazel shook her head. Mari could tell from the look on her face that she wasn’t keen on the idea.

  "I don't think so," Hazel answered.

  “I mean, it’s up to you,” Mari added. “It was just a suggestion.”

  “Is that how you’re able to cope?” Hazel asked.

  “You could say that.” Mari glanced down at Tabasco, the dog in which she told all of her problems to. She had been doing it for years, and it had really seemed to help. That and Tabasco never divulged her secrets to anyone.

  Hazel assured her that she would look into it. “But I don’t know how I feel about going to a public gathering, especially just two days after she died. And another thing I’ve been thinking about…” She glanced across the store to make sure no one else was in earshot, then leaned forward and whispered, “What if Karlie wasn’t the killer’s real target?”

  “Excuse me?” Mari whispered.

  “Please don’t think I’m crazy,” Hazel said nervously. “But if the culprit wanted to poison someone else at the table, and they poisoned Karlie's food by accident, then that would mean none of us are safe. The memorial would be the perfect place to finish the job, don't you think so?”

  Mari placed a hand on her chest. None of this had occurred to her until Hazel brought it up, and inwardly she reprimanded herself for her lack of foresight.

  “I’m sorry,” she told Hazel. “I guess I just hadn’t thought about it.”

  “I know you meant well,” Hazel replied. “You were just trying to honor an old friend. Even if…well, I don’t need to go into her faults. You know them well.”

  Mari nodded.

  “Yeah, and more than that,” Mari stated. “I was hoping to draw the killer out into the open. If he, or she, really hates Karlie as much as I think he does, then he won’t be able to stay away from the memorial service.”

  “You are probably right,” Hazel said. “Murderers are supposed to love attention, right? The thing that worries me is that we might have unknowingly left ourselves vulnerable.”

  "Only time will tell," Mari responded. "But we can't live in fear of something that might not even be true. Maybe the police will have answers by then."

  "Yeah." Hazel gulped. "Maybe."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When Mari returned to the restaurant for her evening shift, every spot in the parking lot was filled. As she usually did in these situations, she parked her car in the alley to the left of the restaurant behind a green dumpster.

  What’s going on?” Mari asked David and Alex over the noise as she entered the kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting the place to be so crowded.”

  “It turns out your little publicity idea might not even be necessary after all,” Alex said. “We're the most popular restaurant in town right now. We forget how nosey people around here can be.”

  “Real nosey,” David added. He was balancing three plates full of rice and beans in two hands.

  Mari looked closely at the three plates he was carrying. Something about them piqued her curiosity, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was only after David walked out of the kitchen, the red door swinging behind him, that it hit her.

  “He just walked out of here carrying three plates of just rice and beans,” she said to Alex.

  “Yeah,” Alex replied, who, she noticed, was stirring an entire skillet full of plain white rice. The warm smell of sautéing onions filled the room. “What about it?”

  “Well, that’s the meal Karlie was eating just before she died. She’s a vegetarian, and she refused to eat anything else on the menu because nothing else looked appetizing.”

  “Yeah, funny story,” Alex said. “Customers started coming in this evening wanting to know what Karlie Lam was eating when she… you know…bit the dust. Now we’re about to run out of beans because it’s all anyone wants to order. Honestly, if I’d known it would be this popular, I’d have told
them she had eaten the chicken frittatas. They are more expensive.”

  “Wait, so we have more customers than before, and they all want to eat her death food?” Mari shook her head. “Honestly, sometimes I don’t understand this town.”

  At that moment, Mr. Ramirez strode into the kitchen, wringing his hands and looking distinctly disgruntled.

  “I have to stop that man,” he said to no one in particular. “I have to find a way to stop him.”

  “What man?” Alex asked, reaching for a couple of spices.

  “Who do you think?” their father replied, gesturing in the direction of the Lucky Noodle across the street. “He just hung up a sign in the parking lot of my restaurant promoting his new vegetarian menu.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?” Alex said.

  “I don’t think it is,” Mari answered. Turning back to her dad, she added, “Since when does Mr. Chun have an entire vegetarian menu?”

  Mr. Ramirez tugged at his thinning hair. “Since Karlie Lam died. Since he found out what she was eating, he’s gone all in on being vegetarian. The entire buffet this evening is mushrooms, tofu, white and brown rice, and assorted greens. Can you imagine how tasteless it must all be?"

  The door opened, and David peeked his head in. “We’re going to need five more plates of white rice.” He yelled and then disappeared again.

  “I’m working on it,” Alex called after him.

  “I took down the sign, but not before we lost customers,” said Mr. Ramirez said. Given how many were currently seated in the dining room or waiting in line, Mari thought this wasn't too great a loss. “I think I might need to go over there and have a chat with him.”

  “Dad, no,” Mari insisted. She reached out to grab his arm as if hoping it might restrain him. “Do you remember what happened last time you and Mr. Chun got into a fight? You almost got arrested.”