Fatal Fried Rice

by Vivien Chien

  “Are you going to do what your sister’s boyfriend said and keep a low profile?” she asked.

  “We tend to try and do that anyways,” I reminded her. “It’s not like we broadcast our movements for everyone to know about.”

  “True.” She nodded. “So, what’s next on our agenda?”

  “Clearly I need to talk with Robert Larkin.”

  “And we also need to get to Margo’s sister. See if there’s anything she can help us figure out. Maybe she’ll know if Margo had any enemies … or who the flower guy might be.”

  “Why don’t you let me approach her alone?” I asked. “You can come with me to talk with Robert Larkin?”

  “How come? Are you worried she won’t talk while I’m there because I’m not Asian?”

  Megan was referring to the possibility that Margo’s family wasn’t into her mixed-race associations.

  “No, nothing like that. I’m more concerned she’ll view it as a two-against-one type of thing. I want to make sure she feels comfortable with me and that she can speak candidly.”

  “Good point.” She sipped her beer. “Well what should we get started on?”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, right now, I am taking the longest bath known to man. After that, I say we pig out and update the notebook. Maybe do some digging online and see what we’re getting ourselves into as far as Robert Larkin goes. If we can find anything, that is.”

  “Okay, sounds good to me. Anything to keep me in leggings for the rest of the night. What do you want to eat?”

  “Dealer’s choice,” I said, getting up from the couch. I could hear the bathtub calling my name.

  “Mexican food!” Megan reached for her cell phone on the coffee table. “I could really go for an enchilada.”

  CHAPTER 13

  After my bath and the large amount of Mexican food I consumed with Megan, I found my eyes starting to close involuntarily. Though Megan had cracked open her laptop and started working her magic to find something interesting about Margo, within fifteen minutes we both ran out of steam. Deciding to skip our investigative session, we promised each other to hunker down and focus more during the weekend.

  When I woke up on Friday morning, it was hard to believe that so much time had passed and I felt as if I’d gotten nowhere. As I prepped for work, I tried my best to motivate myself into thinking that all of this would be no problem. I’d done it before, and I could do it again. I just needed to be patient with myself and take everything one day at a time. Each piece of new information would bring me one step closer to my objective.

  Before I hopped in the car, I checked my phone for a text message from Adam. He was working on a new case, and I had barely been able to see him much in the past two weeks. It was tricky dating a detective at times. I admired the dedication he had for the work he did, but sometimes I felt like I would always be on the back burner. I tried not to have selfish thoughts like those because I knew that what he did for a living was really important, but sometimes I just missed him.

  With no text messages to review, I left the parking lot of my apartment complex and headed east.

  I didn’t see today being the best day for Megan and me to try to track down Robert Larkin. Since the only place I knew to find him was at the school, we’d have to wait until at least Monday. For today, I’d try my luck with a quick visit to Lucky Lotus Cleaners and perhaps get the chance to meet with Margo’s sister, Joyce.

  I felt a little weird about approaching her, considering her sister had just been murdered and she didn’t know me whatsoever. Aside from it being intrusive, it was also a little on the odd side to someone who wasn’t familiar with me. What would she think about some random stranger getting mixed up in their family affairs? And I couldn’t help but wonder if it would make me look like I was guilty.

  As I pulled into the plaza’s parking lot, I realized I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about it. If I wanted answers, and wanted them on my own terms, then I’d just have to do whatever it took.

  I went through the motions of any typical morning at the restaurant. When Peter arrived, I noticed that I wasn’t feeling very social. We mumbled a few attempts at “hello” and “how are you” before he headed into the kitchen.

  This wasn’t totally unprecedented because neither one of us were morning people, but I had to admit that I was not feeling entirely myself this particular morning.

  The Mahjong Matrons arrived at nine o’clock, and when I returned with their tea, the four women looked at me with expectation.

  “Lana,” Helen began, “I cannot believe you didn’t tell us about what happened with Margo Han.”

  Wendy tsked and shook her head in disappointment. “We have been through a lot together. Is it that you don’t trust us?”

  Pearl and Opal did not chime in, but both ladies appeared to be saddened.

  I directed my confusion at all four of them. “What do you mean?”

  Helen wagged her finger at me. “Lana, do not take us for fools. We know that you were taking Margo’s class and found her body.”

  My face reddened. “Oh, that.” I hugged the round tray I’d just emptied. “It’s not that I don’t trust the four of you. But I really didn’t want anyone to know that I was taking a cooking class. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  Opal, who’d been gazing out the window into the plaza, turned to face me. “Lana, this is nothing to be ashamed of. We understand why you would do this. Sometimes family can be difficult.”

  Pearl gaped at her younger sister. “I hope you are not talking about me.”

  Opal blushed. “Of course not, dear sister. How could I ever think such a thing?”

  Helen looked up at me and rolled her eyes. “Listen to us. Do not worry about these small things or feel bashful. The Mahjong Matrons will help you find information about who killed poor Margo Han.”

  The four women nodded in unison, determination set on their faces.

  “How did all of you find out anyway?” I asked.

  Wendy laughed. “Do not worry about this, young lady. The Mahjong Matrons always find out.”

  * * *

  After the Matrons left for the day, I tended to a couple of odds and ends around the restaurant. When I was finished tinkering around with soy sauce containers and place settings, I headed to the front to lounge on the hostess stool. Whenever I had free time, I’d hop on Pinterest and check out ideas for remodeling the dining area. I still had no idea what I could do that both my mother and I would agree on.

  I didn’t get too far into my search before the bells above the door tinkled. I closed out the app and shoved my phone under the counter, giving the new customer my full attention. But when I looked up, I realized that I was staring into a familiar face, though I couldn’t place the young woman standing in front of me right away.

  She smiled brightly, showing a perfect row of teeth, and I experienced a moment of déjà vu. It was Bridget, the girl from my class who had befriended me on our break.

  “Hi, Lana,” she said, her eyes scanning the dining room behind me. “Wow, this place is a lot more beautiful than I remember. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

  I couldn’t wipe the stupor off my face. She wasn’t someone I had expected to see walk into Ho-Lee Noodle House. But perhaps I could use it to my advantage.

  Noticing my surprise, she let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry to show up like this. I came by to check out that salon you were telling me about.”

  I’d completely forgotten all about our Asian Accents conversation, and after she mentioned it, I nodded in recognition. “Oh that’s right, the salon. Decided to brave the unknown, huh?”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I thought I’d go in for a consultation and see what the stylist had to say. Then I figured since I was already here, I’d might as well kill two birds with one stone and stop in to see you. I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about what happened to Margo Han. Crazy, right?”

&nb
sp; With a frown, I said, “Yeah, completely crazy.” I didn’t know what else to say about it other than it was a tragedy, so I left it at that.

  Bridget, however, didn’t seem to pick up on my discomfort. She continued: “I could hardly believe it when I first saw it on the news. I mean, just think, we were there right before it happened.”

  “I know,” I replied. “What are the chances of that?”

  Thankfully details of how the body was found were not released by the police. A general statement was given saying that a student and school employee found the body and called 911. As long as Robert Larkin kept his mouth shut, no one would be the wiser.

  “And the chances that’d you be in that specific class. Am I right?” She shook her head in bewilderment.

  My breath caught in my throat. “What do you mean by that?”

  She hesitated. “Oh, all I meant by that was you like to investigate things and have experience with this sort of stuff. I mean, this has really got to have your wheels turnin’. For me, well, this is a first-time deal. I don’t even know what to make of it.”

  It felt like I visibly gulped just like they do in cartoons. “I can see why you’d think that, but I haven’t really thought about it.”

  She tilted her head. “Really? You aren’t the teeniest bit curious about what happened to Ms. Han?”

  I tried to keep my facial expressions in check, and the tone of my voice. Even though Bridget was a friendly person, and her general curiosity was normal, I didn’t want to divulge my secrets to a stranger. Who knows who she might tell? But I did need to try and see if she knew anything useful. I cautioned myself to tread lightly. “No, really I’m not.”

  She did not appear convinced by my answer.

  “Honestly,” I said, attempting to sound very matter of fact and not at all defensive. “The only reason I got involved in those other cases is because they affected people I knew directly. They were more personal situations. I didn’t know Margo Han outside of that class or even that day.”

  “Hm.” Bridget pursed her lips. “Well, I can’t say the same for myself. I’m dying to know what happened to her. How strange that someone would just kill a person like that in a classroom. And with potential witnesses around, no less!”

  The conversation was making me a tad anxious because, of course, I also wanted to know what happened to Margo. “You know, Bridget … didn’t you mention that you took the Mexican food class that she taught last quarter?”

  She nodded. “I did, and I am proud to say that I can make a fajita with the best of ’em. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I was only wondering if you knew Margo on a more personal level, and that’s why you’re curious about what happened to her. I mean, like I said, that’s what happens with me. If you’re somehow invested, it’s hard to help yourself.”

  “No, I can’t say that I did,” Bridget replied slowly, shaking her head. “Do you find it odd that I’m being inquisitive about what happened?”

  I couldn’t tell if she had taken offense by my question or was in the process of questioning herself. “I just wondered is all.”

  “I’m sure this is probably old hat for you, Lana. But this is … well, this is something you see on TV for people like me, you know?”

  I took her reply as a signifier that she might be offended. “I’m sorry if you took that the wrong way—”

  She waved at me with a dismissive hand. “Oh no, nothing like that. I just didn’t know her is what I’m saying.”

  “I heard that she had a secret admirer. Were you there the night she received flowers from someone?”

  She laughed. “See? You are interested in this! I knew it!”

  “Oh no no,” I said, shaking my head. “I was only thinking about what a shame it was for that person to have lost her. She must have meant something to whomever that person was.”

  Bridget smirked. “Whoever gave them to her must have done her wrong because I saw her throw them out after the class was over. You know,” she said, leaning forward, “what if the person who gave her the flowers is the killer? Wouldn’t that be something?”

  I didn’t want to admit to her that I was worried about the same thing. She appeared to be a little hyped up about this situation, and I didn’t want to make it worse. If we got too into this conversation, I might slip and say something that I shouldn’t.

  She seemed to notice the tension I felt, and shifted to a more casual body language. Her shoulders slouched a little bit and she repositioned herself against the podium in a more conversational manner, as if we were just two buddies discussing the weather. “So, anyways, enough of that awfulness. What are you planning on doing about your cooking dilemma? Are you going to sign up for a new class?”

  “Um, not right now,” I admitted. “The head chef here offered to give me a few lessons when I feel up for it. So, I’ll probably just do that.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I guess the cat is out of the bag about you taking the class then?”

  “Yeah, you could say something like that.”

  “Well, if he’s giving out free lessons, I’d be happy to sign up.” The enthusiasm in her statement was followed by a blush in her cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s incredibly forward of me. We don’t even know each other.”

  I gave her an encouraging smile. It was obvious that her nerves were rattled. She was probably embarrassed about her morbid curiosity and was trying to overcompensate. “I’ll ask him about it and see what he says.”

  “Great. I mean, I would also pay for him to teach me, of course,” Bridget replied. She began digging around in her purse, found a loose piece of paper, which turned out to be a receipt, tore it in half, and grabbed a pen off my counter. “Here’s my cell phone number. Even if he decides he doesn’t want to give out lessons to a perfect stranger, we should keep in touch anyways.” She handed the paper over with a grin.

  “Yeah, we should,” I said, taking it from her. Reaching for the business card holder on the counter, I grabbed a card and flipped it over, writing my cell phone number on the back. “Here’s my cell, and of course, the restaurant is a good place to reach me if you need to. I’m here more often than I’m not.”

  She skimmed it over and nodded. “Cool. We’ll talk soon. Maybe we can grab a drink or something?”

  “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

  “Well, I better get going. I’ve got some errands I have to run.” She held up the business card and smiled before putting it in her back pocket. “See you around, Lana.”

  After she walked out the door, I grabbed my cell phone from under the counter and was ready to hop back on Pinterest, but before I could even get started, Megan called.

  CHAPTER 14

  When Megan asked how my day had been so far, I told her about my unexpected visit with Bridget. And I was surprised to find that my best friend did not approve of the situation. She solidified her distaste for Bridget’s random appearance at the restaurant with a hearty “Something smells fishy to me.”

  “It’s totally possible that she’s just one of these people who’s fascinated by murder,” I said. “I think it only comes off weird because of who I am and the situations I’ve been involved in.”

  “Yeah, but doesn’t she have her own friends to speculate with?” she asked.

  “I’m sure she does, but it’s different when someone is closer to the situation. Her telling a friend who had no involvement in the class at all doesn’t have the same impact. They’re too far removed.”

  “I have no involvement with the class,” Megan stated plainly.

  I cringed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know that.”

  Megan didn’t reply, and I thought the phone had cut out.

  “I just meant for someone who’s never been through this before, they’d want to talk to someone who knew the deceased party.”

  “I’m putting her on our suspect list,” Megan said, dismissing my roundabout apology. “It’s weird and I don’t like it, but it’s also co
nvenient.”

  “How so?”

  “You may have to get close to this girl, Lana. This could be your way in to finding things out.”

  “I don’t see how. She knew Margo Han about as much as I did.” I took a moment to think about whether that statement was actually true. Bridget had said to me that she’d taken a few cooking courses at the learning center. Maybe she did know Margo more than I thought.

  “Do you think she’s capable of killing your teacher?” Megan asked.

  “I mean, I guess. Bridget is pretty tall … and somewhat muscular, I suppose. Margo was a small woman and could probably be easily overpowered. But I don’t see a logical motive to her doing something like that.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Right now, I’m just concerned with possibilities. We can weed people out later.” I could hear Megan scribbling on a pad of paper. “Do you know this girl’s last name?”

  “No. It’s never come up. I know Margo said it out loud at the beginning of the class when she was taking roll, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “If we can’t get any leads from Margo’s sister or find out anything from Robert Larkin on Monday, you might have to chat up your new friend Bridget to see if there’s anything worth looking into.”

  I grunted in agreement. I wasn’t taking much stock in this conversation, but I didn’t want to argue with Megan about something so trivial.

  “Don’t forget, Lana, everyone is a suspect until we prove otherwise.”

  We hung up after I promised to check in with her once I’d completed my adventure out to Lucky Lotus Cleaners. I was planning another bank deposit cover story for when Nancy came in for the day.

  An hour later, she strolled in the door. Her gentle smile always put me at ease.

  Friday at lunchtime is usually pretty busy. With people getting hyped up for the weekend, more office workers seemed to come in with anticipation of their workweek ending. Almost as if it were a precursor to their upcoming freedom from desk life.