Fortune Cookie (Culinary Mystery)

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Her earlier thoughts about Ji leaving while she was at lunch came to mind, and what had seemed worrisome then, suddenly felt suspect. “Ji was sorting through this box while I was at lunch with Rodger—the sort piles were different when I got back—and he left suddenly.”

  Pete pulled his eyebrows together as he considered the implications.

  Sadie hurried to further explain where her thoughts were taking her. “Maybe I’m looking too much for a connection, but what if he found something”—she shook the side of the box closest to her for emphasis—“that proved what we just discovered—that Wendy and one of his daughters had a relationship? It might explain why he left.”

  “That could certainly explain why he left unexpectedly,” Pete said. They both were silent for a few moments. “But he could have found any number of things that might be upsetting enough for him to call it quits. He puts on a good front, but I think he’s quite fragile where his mother is concerned.”

  Sadie told Pete about Rodger not knowing Ji existed, and Pete shook his head with the same disappointment Sadie had felt when she’d learned it. “So what do we do about this?” Sadie asked. “Do we ask Ji? Talk to his daughters?”

  “I would like to talk to the neighbors first and see if anyone else saw the girl. The more details and confirmations we have, the better. I’m leaning toward it being the oldest daughter, though. The other two are pretty young, aren’t they?”

  “Thirteen and eleven,” Sadie confirmed. “Min is twenty, and I’m guessing she has a bit of a rebellious streak.”

  “Really? Ji made it sound like he and his wife run a pretty tight ship.”

  “She has a piercing,” Sadie said, then pointed to the top of her own ear to show him where. “No earring, but when I glanced at it, she hid it behind her hair. I know it’s not much—lots of kids have piercings—but if her parents are that controlling—and they seem to be just that—it might be an indicator that there’s more going on under the surface with her.”

  Pete nodded his agreement. “It would take a certain level of rebellion for Min to have a relationship with Wendy behind her parents’ backs, so you’re probably right. Either way, we need to find out for sure who it was and what they might know.”

  Sadie agreed but feared talking to all the tenants could take a long time. “What if I called Ji and just asked him if everything was okay in the meantime? Maybe he’ll tell me why he left.”

  “Just be careful about leading him too much, or forcing an answer. It’s better for him to think we know something than for us to accuse him of anything.”

  “I understand,” Sadie said.

  Pete smiled and clapped his hands together. “Ji mentioned that the landlord said there was a dolly around here for the tenants to use. I bet Ji’s friends would find it helpful, and I can use looking for it as an excuse to chat with some neighbors.”

  “I need to finish sorting this box,” Sadie said, feeling the urgency, “but I really want to talk to Ji.”

  “We’ve got at least an hour before Ji’s friend shows up. There’s time to do both.”

  Sadie appreciated the vote of confidence. Pete left to find the dolly, and Sadie decided to call Ji and see what she could learn from him before she turned her attention to the box. Ji didn’t answer his phone so she looked up the number to his restaurant.

  “Choy’s, is this for take-out?” It was a woman’s voice on the phone, but it didn’t sound like Lin Yang. Younger, perhaps, with a more American cadence. Could it be the daughter who’d been seen visiting Wendy?

  “Um, I’m calling for Ji Doang,” Sadie said, maintaining her focus.

  “One moment.” The woman or girl moved the phone away, but Sadie heard her call out “Ba ba” over the kitchen sounds in the background. Did Ba ba mean “Dad” in Chinese?

  “Ni hao,” Ji said a few seconds later.

  “Ji, it’s Sadie.” She had decided to open with a question about how things would go with the share house in hopes that it would set the stage better than if she launched into what she really wanted to know. She asked her question and then awaited his response. Did he sound relieved that she was only calling in regard to the donations?

  “He’ll park on the street and have a few guys to help him load things,” Ji answered. “He does this all the time so it won’t take long. Pete and I took the bed apart yesterday, so it’s really only the dresser, desk, and couches that will be any kind of challenge.”

  “Will I need to sign any kind of paperwork or anything? Can I do that or do you need to do it as next of kin?”

  “If he needs you to sign anything, you’re fine to do so. It will all go very smooth, I’m sure. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

  Sadie took a breath and then a chance. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “I keep wondering if something happened while I was at lunch with Rodger—you left so suddenly.”

  He was quiet again, but she remembered Pete’s advice about not pushing him and waited for him to speak on his own. “I’m sorry, Sadie, I know you came all the way out here to help me, but I just can’t do this anymore. I have a family, a life, and my mother was never a part of it. I can’t make her a part of it now. With Shots coming for the contents of her apartment, it’s pretty much done anyway, but I can’t help anymore. I need to stay focused on my own family right now.”

  Focused on his family. Did he mean attentive to one of his daughters who had a relationship with Wendy that he didn’t approve of? And was he stepping out of dealing with Wendy’s estate completely?

  Sadie hadn’t missed that amid his explanation there was no answer to her question of what had happened while she was at lunch. “I have great respect for the care you take of your family, Ji, and while I realize that you don’t know me very well, I didn’t come to San Francisco to just go through Wendy’s apartment. I had hoped to connect with you, and something changed while I was at lunch. I noticed you were going through the box of papers I’d found before you left, and I can’t help but wonder if you came across something . . . upsetting. Whatever it is, we can talk about it. I want to—”

  “I really need to get back to work, Sadie, I’m sorry.” The surprising softness in his voice—rather than annoyance, which would have been warranted—was laced with regret. The fact that he’d still sidestepped her question pretty much convinced her that he had discovered something while she was at lunch, but she also realized that she didn’t want to push any harder. Not like this. Not until there was more certainty.

  “I understand. I’m sorry to have interrupted,” she said with the same level of humility he’d shown in his tone. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Thank you, too,” Ji responded.

  She wanted some kind of commitment that they would speak again or see each other before she left, but it felt out of place for her to ask. She also thought about the funeral arrangements they had never discussed, but that felt even more out of place to bring up in light of him stepping away.

  “Bye,” Ji said a moment before the line went dead.

  She hung up and looked at Pete, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. She hadn’t noticed him come in, but saw past him to a dolly now parked just outside the office doorway.

  “No luck?” Pete asked.

  “No,” Sadie said, putting the phone on the desk. “But I’m more certain than ever that something other than the restaurant is what motivated Ji to leave. Maybe it was something in this box or maybe it was something else, but I asked him about it twice and he didn’t admit or deny anything, just ignored the questions.”

  “Not quite a confession,” Pete reminded her.

  “No, but an indication,” Sadie replied. “I see you found the dolly.”

  Pete glanced over his shoulder as though to confirm the dolly was still there. “Jason in apartment two let me into a supply closet on the second floor. He also saw an Asian girl a few times between Christmas and April but never spoke to her; he’d assumed she was from one of the ser
vices Wendy had hired. She carried a black messenger bag and wore well-worn black Converse sneakers. Do you remember the shoes Ji’s daughters were wearing yesterday?”

  Sadie shook her head a split-second before a knock on the apartment door interrupted them. Pete pushed off from the wall to answer it. Sadie assumed that Shots and his crew must have arrived early but then realized Ji’s friends would need to be buzzed in.

  “Well, hello again,” Pete said.

  Sadie sat up a little straighter, then stood and headed into the common area.

  A woman with pink hair and an equally pink kimono breezed past him in the doorway, giving him a coy smile in the process. This must be Shasta Winterberg, the pink lady of the 22nd Street condos.

  “Hello there, Mr. Wonderful.”

  Sadie stepped more fully into the kitchen area so she could get a better look at this tenant she’d heard so much about. Her position gave her a clear view of the long wink the woman gave Pete before seeing Sadie and crossing to her. She held a pink poodle in her arms—pink! Even though Pete had told Sadie about the dog, it was startling all the same. How did you turn a dog pink? Were there such things as dog colorists? Sadie looked from the dog to the woman’s heavily made-up face that did not disguise her years and smiled politely.

  “Um, hi,” Sadie said, putting out her hand. “I’m Sadie.”

  “Wendy’s sister, right?” the woman said, putting out her hand—complete with bright pink nails—and barely squeezing Sadie’s before petting her dog, which looked around the room with the same casual attitude this woman had. “I’m Shasta Winterberg.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Shasta said, still scoping out the apartment. Her eyes settled on the saw in the middle of the floor before moving on to the boxes and bags stacked against the wall. “I met this boy toy of yours yesterday, ” she said to Sadie while waving toward Pete, who lifted his eyebrows in pleased surprise. “I’ve decided, out of respect for your sister’s passing, not to try to steal him away, though I’m quite sure I could.” She gave Pete another wink.

  Pete smiled back, then, when she looked away, he sent Sadie a look that seemed to ask whether he should play this up or not—but clearly he was having fun.

  Sadie wasn’t sure how to answer. “Oh, well, thanks for not taking him away from me,” she said to Shasta, uncertain if this woman was joking or not.

  Without asking permission, Shasta walked into the bedroom. Sadie and Pete exchanged a look before following her. Shasta stood in the doorway of the bathroom, surveying the unfinished room—though it was coming along nicely—while petting her dog, then looked at Sadie. “Do you know when Mario plans to be finished with this?”

  “We have until the tenth to have the apartment cleared,” Sadie said, trying not to sound defensive. Everyone was in such a hurry to move on.

  Shasta drew her mouth down into a pout, causing her chin to wrinkle in a way that showed why most women refrained from making such a face in the first place. “That long? I was hoping it would be done sooner.”

  “You were hoping?” Sadie repeated. “Why?”

  Shasta turned her frown into a wide smile that showed high quality dentures. “This is the biggest apartment in the building—two bedrooms.” She looked around the bedroom again. “She’s had all this room to herself for far too long.”

  Sadie was confused, but she felt a picture coming together in her mind. “What do you mean ‘far too long’?” If Sadie repeated the phrase too many times in her mind, it sounded like motive.

  Shasta flashed her another Polident smile. “Didn’t Stephen tell you? I’m moving in just as soon as you guys clear out and I can get my painters in to spruce it up.” She stepped past Sadie and Pete, who were standing just outside the bedroom door, and walked to the large bay windows of the living room—the bedroom view was better, but this one was nice too. “Just look at that, Annie,” she said in a wistful tone, petting the dog again. “Can you believe it’s finally ours?” She turned away from the window, the fabric of her kimono swishing with the movement. She gave Pete another flirty smile. “You sure you don’t want to stay here with me, Mr. Wonderful? There’s room enough for two, you know.”

  Chapter 20

  Is this woman seriously hitting on my fiancé right in front of me? Sadie thought before trying to focus on the fact that Shasta was the new tenant moving in.

  Pete laughed, and Sadie turned to him in surprise until realizing that he had likely decided to play along with the flirtation. In terms of the investigation, Sadie could see it was probably the right move, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

  “Careful, Shasta,” Pete said playfully. “I might call your bluff.”

  “Oh, I’m not bluffing.”

  Sadie cleared her throat, casting a reproachful look at Pete, who raised one eyebrow at her as though in challenge. He didn’t have to play along that well.

  “So, um, you’ve wanted this apartment for a while?” Sadie asked, her head tingling for multiple reasons.

  “The first and second floor only have one-bedroom apartments, but the top floor has this one—the only two-bedroom—and number six is a studio.” Shasta waved her hand through the air for what seemed to be no particular reason other than to keep Pete and Sadie’s attention. “I moved in just a year or so after Wendy did, with the promise that as soon as she moved out I would have first dibs on this place. I had no idea I’d have to wait this long. Her type rarely stays in one place very long, you know.”

  “Her type?” Pete asked before Sadie could say it herself.

  Shasta gave another knowing smile. “Bohemian.”

  “What do you mean by that, exactly?” Pete folded his arms across his chest before leaning against the counter. Was it just Sadie’s imagination or was he holding his shoulders a little higher than usual? He cocked his head slightly to the side and had a casual look of curiosity on his face. Sadie looked between him and Shasta, who was walking toward him and looking very pleased by his attention.

  “She was flighty but had lived well enough to want nice things. I know she’d relied on men for her security, but upon losing her looks she was being forced to settle down and stake a claim. I felt sure she’d spend whatever money she’d managed to squirrel away soon enough and, without a new sugar daddy, she’d have to scramble over the bridge to Sausalito for something more affordable.” She said “affordable” under her breath, like it was a dirty word. She twirled her hand through the air again. “But like I said, she surprised all of us. I couldn’t believe Stephen didn’t force her out with increases in rent, but then I learned about the addendum to her contract. What a fool he made himself out to be with that.”

  “A rental addendum?” Pete said. “What kind?”

  “Oh, it is so ridiculous.” Shasta rolled her eyes and scratched her dog’s head again. Sadie felt sure the dog was medicated; it was too tranquil. “He agreed to raise her rent only one-half a percent a year, regardless of how long she stayed in the apartment.” She let out a disgusted sigh and shook her head before eyeing the kitchen with a disapproving expression.

  “But that wasn’t the same agreement the rest of you had?” Pete asked.

  “The rest of us have whatever the allowable increase is from year to year—assessed on the anniversary of our move-in month. From my calculations, Wendy was paying nearly eight hundred dollars less a month for her two-bedroom than I was for my single.” Shasta huffed through her nose and shook her head indignantly. “Ridiculous.”

  Pete stole her attention back. “Why would the landlord make a different agreement with her than with anyone else?”

  “He said it was because the apartment had been hard to rent—housing was in a slump at the time or something like that. However, I’m sure he learned his lesson and will never do that again, seeing as how ungracious Wendy was about his accommodations and how long she stayed.”

  Shasta wandered into the kitchen, running her hand over the tiled countertop. From her frown,
there was something about it she didn’t approve of. Or maybe it was a reaction to the drywall dust covering everything. She rubbed her manicured fingers together.

  “Can I ask how you knew about the rental agreement?” Pete said, confirming to Sadie that he was absolutely playing a role in order to garner new information. Sadie had told him that Jason claimed Shasta and Wendy had been friends at some point. Pete was playing up his ignorance of that in order to build trust and make Shasta feel important. No way Stephen Pilings told Shasta about that deal—though she’d obviously confronted him about it at some point. The only other person who could have told her about the agreement was Wendy herself.

  Shasta didn’t respond right away. Instead, she let her eyes travel up the wall as though measuring its height. “Well, there was a time when you could have said that Wendy and I were friends, but, well, in time I simply couldn’t abide it any longer. We’re of a different class of people, she and I.” She glanced at Sadie. “No offense.”

  Sadie smiled to imply that she wasn’t offended, even though she was.

  “And it was during that time that she told you about the agreement?” Pete asked, keeping them all on track.

  Shasta nodded.

  “What brought your friendship to an end?” Pete asked.

  Shasta shrugged. “I’m sure I can’t remember the final straw. She tended to make petty comments about people and things; she criticized my sense of style and taste in art more than once. Sometimes we’d get lunch or go to a show; other times she’d stand me up for an event and then act put out when I asked her why she hadn’t bothered to tell me. Eventually I came to realize that the root of Wendy’s problems was that she simply hated people. She didn’t care how she made people feel, and she didn’t mind when she inconvenienced them. I was a matter of convenience to her, that’s all. Like everyone else in her life, I suppose.”