by Vivien Chien
“Now,” my mother lectured, interrupting my daydream. “Do not forget to lock the money in the safe all the time. When Anna May comes to work, you take the money to the bank. Make sure to write everything down every day, and save the receipts for Mommy to see when I come home. Do not go to the bank at nighttime because then Mommy will worry about you every day.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand at her. “I know what to do.”
I could feel my mother staring at me out of the corner of my eye. “Why are you so crabby this morning? Are you not sleeping good again?”
“I slept fine; I just haven’t had enough coffee.” Early morning is not my most graceful time. “I’ll be fine once I get to Starbucks.”
My mother huffed. “You drink too much coffee. This is no good for you and will make you very nervous.”
“She probably gets that from me, Betty,” my dad said from the backseat. I could hear the smile in his voice. “There’s nothing better than a morning cup of joe.”
In front of their airline’s drop-off entrance, I double-parked next to a family of four all saying their goodbyes. No matter what city you’re in, the story is the same. Get in and get out. Unload and go. The goal is to beat the airport monitors before they can make it to your car to signal you off.
The three of us hustled out of the car, and I helped unload their bags from the trunk. We quickly hugged and I scooted back into the car, taking off with a cheery honk before the family of four had finished their send-off.
The time display on the radio told me there was still time to get coffee and beat Peter to the plaza … if I didn’t get stuck in traffic. It must have been my lucky morning because the roads were clear of snow and traffic was light. I made record time, pulling into the plaza parking lot thirty minutes later. It was still dark out, and only a few cars speckled the employee parking section. I noticed that Isabelle’s car was there and covered with a thick layer of snow. Strange. It hadn’t snowed since last night.
I parked next to her car, and just as I was getting out, Peter came whipping through the parking lot in his beat-up Chevy Malibu. He slid carelessly into the spot next to mine—a little too closely—and turned off the engine.
“Whoa … there’s still ice everywhere,” he said, getting out of the car and testing the pavement with his combat boot.
“Yeah.” I scowled at him and hugged the warm cup against my chest. “Be careful, you almost hit my car … and I almost dropped my coffee.”
“Nah, don’t sweat it, I’m an expert in the snow.”
We crunched through the parking lot and made our way inside. The short time we’d spent outside had turned our cheeks and noses red.
“So,” Peter said, with an amused grin on his face. “Are you ready to be the boss lady or what?”
I groaned. “I don’t really have a choice…”
“You’re gonna do great. I’m totally excited for you to be the boss of me.”
“Uh-huh.”
In front of City Charm Souvenirs stood a petite Asian woman with big curls and a long trench coat. She looked as if she was waiting for the store to open.
“Wonder who she sneaked in behind,” I mumbled to Peter.
“Probably didn’t want her to stand outside in the cold or something. It is way frigid out there.”
As we passed, she turned to face us, her wide, inquisitive eyes looking between me and Peter. To say that the woman was beautiful would be a severe understatement. She was striking. The only time I’ve ever seen cheekbones that well defined, they had been on a model.
Next to me, I think I even heard Peter gasp.
“Excuse me,” she said, stopping us in our path. Her pouty, fuchsia-tinted lips formed a brilliant smile showing perfect white teeth. “Could you tell me when this store opens? I see the light is on, but there doesn’t seem to be anybody around.”
I looked past her at the well-lit store, expecting Isabelle to be there, standing at her usual spot behind the register. But the woman was right: No one was around. “Um, the plaza doesn’t open until nine. You still have some time left, but there’s a bench you could wait on.” I pointed past her to the bench that sat against the koi pond’s fence.
“I was hoping to catch the owner before the store opened.” Her eyes fixed back on the store and she craned her neck to get a better look toward the back. “I was sure that he’d be here.”
“Usually his wife opens the store,” I told her. “Brandon isn’t much of a morning person.”
She laughed to herself and then turned back around to face me. “Of course he isn’t.” She removed a pair of knit gloves from her jacket pocket. “I’ll stop by another time then. Thank you.”
She tipped her head, giving Peter a more prominent smile, and then walked back toward the entrance.
“Hm, what the heck was that about?” I asked, watching her leave the plaza.
Peter whistled. “She is hot. Like … super hot.”
“Better not let Kimmy hear you say that.”
He blushed. “Huh?”
“Never mind,” I said, stifling a laugh. Kimmy Tran, who worked at China Cinema and Song, was a childhood friend of mine. And, she was also maybe Peter’s new girlfriend. They were keeping things quiet at the moment.
My eyes fell back on the store. Hadn’t Brandon promised to open this morning? Where was he? And where was Isabelle?
Peter nudged me. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing, I guess…”
“You have ‘something’ face.”
I turned to him. “It’s just that Isabelle’s car was already here, and she made a deal with Brandon that she could sleep in today if she closed up for him last night.”
“Maybe his car broke down and he took her car this morning.”
“But there was snow on the car … it hasn’t snowed since last night,” I reminded him.
“Or her car broke down and he took her home, you know? And they’re not here yet.”
“But the lights are on…” I pointed at the window.
“She probably just forgot,” Peter said, shrugging it off. “I don’t think it’s a big deal.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s it.” Convincing myself that Peter had to be right, I pushed down the uneasiness that I felt and we continued on to Ho-Lee Noodle House.
The restaurant was cold, and I cranked up the heat knowing the Mahjong Matrons, our first customers every morning, would complain about the cooler temperatures. I went about my morning duties while Peter banged around in the kitchen.
At nine o’clock, I unlocked the front doors in anticipation of the four elderly women’s arrival. They did not disappoint.
The four women marched in, single-file, bundled in their oversized jackets and hats. They never bothered with waiting to be seated. Instead, they headed straight for their designated booth near the front window that looked out into the plaza. Pearl and Opal, who were sisters—and the oldest of the bunch—took their places nearest the window while Helen and Wendy filed in after them.
I greeted the women as a formality. I already knew what they were going to order because it was the same thing every day: rice porridge, pickled cucumbers, century eggs, and Chinese omelets with chives. Nothing more, nothing less.
For a few months, I’d anticipated some type of change, but they hadn’t surprised me yet. I didn’t even bother with menus anymore. Not that what they ordered was on the menu.
“And how are you ladies doing this morning?”
“Cold,” Pearl, the eldest of the bunch, replied. She removed her hat, smoothing down her graying hair. “We are very much excited to have our tea this morning.”
That was my cue. I headed back into the kitchen, grabbed the ladies’ tea, and placed their order with Peter.
When I came back out, Opal, Pearl’s younger sister, looked up at me. She was the quieter of the two, and a slip of a woman. Sometimes I had to strain just to hear her. “Did your mommy and daddy leave for Taiwan today?”
“Yeah, I too
k them to the airport this morning.” I placed the teapot in the center of the table.
Helen, the mother hen of the group, reached for the pot and poured a cup for each of the women. “I will pray that they have safe travels,” she said with a curt nod.
An elderly couple walked in and I excused myself from their table. Usually I tried to seat people a reasonable distance from them. They were prone to gossiping, and sometimes they would try to get other tables involved. Even though it was harmless, a lot of people didn’t like to be disturbed during their meal.
I went back into the kitchen to grab more tea. Peter was busy on the grill, bobbing his head to the heavy metal humming from his kitchen radio. “The food is just about done.”
I gave him a thumbs-up and took my tea service out into the dining room.
Within five minutes, I was back with the new table’s order and ready to pick up the food for the Matrons. As I started to place the food on the tray, a loud bang came from the back room behind the kitchen. I jumped, nearly dropping a plate of pickled cucumbers.
Peter looked at me with confusion, turning down the volume dial on the radio. “Is someone at the service door?”
The banging continued.
“Must be,” I said, wiping my hands on my apron. “Do we have a delivery coming this morning?”
He shook his head. “No … no deliveries before ten. It’s a Mama Lee rule.”
I scurried to the back room behind Peter to see what all the commotion was about. When he opened the door, it flew back in his face. Kimmy Tran barreled into the restaurant from the service hallway; her already messy hair, piled in a bun, was teetering to the side of her head. Her face was flushed and her chubby cheeks looked like two beets.
“There is blood everywhere!” she screamed. “Everywhere! Call the police!” She waved her hands in a frantic circle around her head.
“Kimmy … calm down, what are you talking about?”
She started to hyperventilate. “I was taking out the trash…” She looked behind her at the door.
“Okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “And then what?”
“I was walking past City Charm and the door was open a crack,” Kimmy said, turning back to me. “And I thought maybe Isabelle forgot to close the door or something. But when I went to stick my head inside, they were both lying on the floor … blood everywhere!” She started to panic again, and looked at Peter. “Call the police!”
Peter stared at me, his eyes wide.
“Call the police,” I instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”
“I don’t think you—”
But I was gone before he could finish his sentence. I was out in the hallway, not thinking about anything except that my friend was in trouble and I had to get to her.
The door was still nudged open from when Kimmy poked her head inside. Afraid to touch the handle, I stood at the threshold and took a deep breath. Slowly, I stuck my head in the opening. I took one look and let out an involuntary scream. There they were, husband and wife lying next to each other on the floor. All my eyes saw were flashes of red and blank stares before they squeezed themselves shut.
In that moment, I wished I’d never left the restaurant.
CHAPTER
5
I’m not sure how I made it back to the restaurant. I want to say that Peter came and walked me back into the sanctity of Ho-Lee Noodle House, but I’m not sure.
While I had been next door seeing what couldn’t be unseen, Peter had called the police and remembered to rush the food out to the Mahjong Matrons. In my state of panic, I had left the restaurant completely unattended. My only hope was that they wouldn’t suspect something was going on when I didn’t show up with their food.
Kimmy and I sat in the back room, side by side, on the small couch my parents had failed to replace since my childhood. The couch was worn from years of use; when you sat down, the cushions sank to an uncomfortable level. I stared at my knees trying to stop myself from thinking about the bloody scene I’d witnessed next door.
Two uniformed police officers from the Fairview Park Police Department had shown up and informed us that Detective Trudeau—Adam—was on his way. The first officer to arrive was a young guy with sandy-blond hair, freshly buzzed. Given his youth and demeanor, I had the distinct impression that he’d just graduated from the academy. With the precision that came from being new, he asked us a series of questions from a list in his notebook, checking things off as we commented on this or that. After he was finished, he instructed us to wait for Trudeau. I didn’t think that’d be a problem. Kimmy, for once in her life, was speechless.
Peter poked his head in the doorway. “I called Mrs. Feng and Ian,” he informed us. “They’re on their way.”
“Oh good.” I took a breath. Mrs. Donna Feng was the widow of Mr. Feng, who had been the Asia Village property owner. Since her husband’s untimely demise, Donna had taken a backseat and given herself the position of “silent partner” while Ian Sung took the reins. Previous to Mr. Feng’s murder, Ian had been his partner and handled various other smaller properties owned by the Feng family.
“I also put up the CLOSED sign and cleared out the old couple, but the Matrons won’t budge. They want to know what’s going on back here.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m not surprised.”
“What do you want me to tell them?”
“Maybe tell them there was an accident and the police have ordered us to clear everyone out. Make it sound like we don’t know anything, either. That might get them to leave easier.”
“You got it.”
“Oh, and Peter,” I said as he started to disappear. “Thank you for taking care of everything.”
He poked his head back in the room. “No problem, boss. Holler if you need me.” And his disembodied head disappeared back into the kitchen.
Kimmy scrunched her face. “Boss? Where are your parents?”
“They’re on their way to Taiwan,” I told her. “Your parents didn’t tell you?” Nearly everything that happened in the plaza was common knowledge. Trying to keep a secret in this place was like trying to keep a millennial off social media.
She shook her head. “No, they didn’t mention it. When did they leave?”
“This morning.”
“And you’re in charge?”
“Yup.”
“Did Anna May crap her pants?”
“Yup.”
She blew out a deep breath. “Man, they are going to freak when they find out about this.”
I put my head down. I hadn’t even thought of that. My parents were definitely going to flip out. How was I going to tell them two people were found dead right next to their restaurant as soon as they left town?
“Go figure, Asia Village is a crime scene again!” She sank deeper into the couch, her face filled with disgust.
The young police officer showed up in the doorway with Detective Trudeau standing behind him. “They’re both in here, sir.” He gestured to us and then stepped out of the way.
Adam stepped through the threshold, giving us both a pensive look. “Ladies, are you all right?”
Kimmy looked up at him. “I could use a smoke.”
He nodded with understanding. “Miss Tran, why don’t you step outside and I’ll speak to Miss Lee until you get back.”
Kimmy turned to me, raising her eyebrows. “Your boyfriend calls you Miss Lee? Now, that’s some discipline.” She smirked and hoisted herself up from the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
I blushed. When she left the room, I snuck a glimpse at Adam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with an amused smirk. “I know how these things work with women.” Just as fast as the smirk appeared, it faded and he was back in detective mode with the grim expression I’d come to recognize as his no-nonsense face. “What can you tell me?”
I shook my head. “Not much really. Kimmy came pounding on our back door and
Peter and I let her in. She wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, and all she told us was that there was lots of blood. I rushed over there thinking maybe…” I looked down at my hands. “I probably shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I thought maybe there was something I could do.”
He exhaled. “The scene in there is hard to take in, that’s for sure. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. “What happened? Do you think they were robbed?”
“The coroner is on his way, but from what we can tell so far, it looks on the domestic side. Looks like they argued, maybe he pushed her and she fell wrong, hitting her head pretty hard on that cement floor. His gunshot wound is self-inflicted.”
My eyes widened. “That’s impossible.”
He cocked his head at me. “Why would you say that?”
“Because they were in love…” I whispered. “They just got married … they were happy.”
He sat down next to me, making the couch feel even smaller than it already did. Our knees touched and even though it was the slightest contact, it was comforting. “Lana.” His voice softened, and he sounded more like Adam and less like Detective Trudeau.
A tear trickled down my cheek, dangling on my chin. “And … she was my friend.” I sucked in my lower lip, trying to hold back the waterfall that was threatening to come pouring out. “We were all going to get dinner, and everything was going to be great…” I trailed off, knowing a full-blown babble was about to occur.
Adam must have sensed the breakdown was coming on because he rushed to shut the back door to give me some privacy. When he returned to the couch, he wrapped an arm around me and nudged me closer to him. I sank into his chest and let it all out.
* * *
Anna May showed up a little after Adam had gone back to the crime scene and I’d put myself back together. She had offered to skip her next class to help close up the restaurant while I went to the police station with Kimmy to fill out an official statement.
On a regular day, Anna May gave me a hard time on just about everything, but today my older sister was rife with compassion, knowing that I had formed a bond with Isabelle. “You going to be okay, little sister? I can rush through things here and meet you there.”
