by Vivien Chien
I gave him a little smirk, but winced with the gesture. My mouth felt swollen and stiff.
My mother brushed a strand of hair away from my forehead. “No more trouble, young lady. Next time, Mommy asks you to go shopping, you go. Okay?”
I forced a smile and attempted to nod my head.
A half hour later, a doctor came in to check on my status and told me that I was cleared to go home as long as I wasn’t alone. Megan was in the waiting room, and told my parents she would take me home.
The nurse who helped me gather myself put me in a wheelchair and pushed me out to the waiting area where Megan sprang out of her seat to greet me. “Don’t do this to me, Lana. I’m a mess.” She bent down and hugged me, her body shaking as she wrapped her arms around me.
“Don’t squeeze so hard,” I whispered.
“Oh, right,” she stood up, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
When we got home, we were surprised to see Kimmy and Peter waiting outside our apartment with a bouquet of flowers.
As we approached, Kimmy thrust them forward at me. “You know I don’t do the mushy thing that good, but I wanted to say thank you for putting yourself in danger to save me. Someone else might have saved themself first.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” I took the bouquet, smelling the fragrant mixture of stargazers sprinkled with roses, and waited for Megan to open the door.
Kimmy and Peter followed behind us, and when we were all inside, Peter gave me a once-over. “Man, you’re pretty beat up, Lana.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, Peter,” I replied sarcastically. “A woman always loves to hear she looks like crap.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is … thanks for what you did. It let Kimmy get away, otherwise she might have been in the hospital too. So yeah … you don’t owe me anymore.” He ended the sentence with a crooked grin.
I laughed. “I guess you’re not that bad of a guy after all.”
EPILOGUE
It took me a few days to recover and gather my bearings. Adam stayed by my side as much as he possibly could while I healed from the injuries I’d sustained from the accident. The doctor had told me I was lucky I hadn’t broken my collarbone in the process.
Bridget had sustained injuries as well, and once she was deemed fit to leave the hospital, the cops took her in to a policed medical ward to await the next steps in her arrest. Officer Weismann, the young police officer who had taken my statement the night of Margo’s murder, had come to see me in place of Detective Bishop. Weismann didn’t come out and say it, but he did hint—with a smirk—that it was because Bishop didn’t want to face me knowing that he’d clearly been wrong about my and Larkin’s guilt. The young officer updated me on what happened after Bridget and I had separated that day. He assured me that she was considered a flight risk and would mostly like not be released on bail.
Aside from not visiting me himself, Detective Bishop avoided me to the best of his ability on any matters in regard to the case, and all further communication was handled by Henry, who was still acting as my lawyer. He’d managed to also get me out of trouble somehow, but told me if Bridget didn’t plead guilty, I’d have to go to trial and testify. Kimmy too.
For now, I was safe, and no one was going to come after me for withholding evidence. Sabrina, for all it was worth, took on the brunt of the blame. She did agree to fully cooperate with the police, and since she was an otherwise upstanding citizen, they were going to go easy on her.
A few days after Bridget’s arrest had been made public, Joyce Han reached out to thank me for my part in finding the person who really killed her sister. She told me that her family, though still working through the emotions they felt, could now find some peace knowing the truth.
Out of everything that happened, that knowledge is what made me feel like the whole ordeal had been worth it.
The following Friday, Megan had gotten herself excused from working the entire weekend, so we could have some fun. After showing her boss the story that had graced the Plain Dealer, listing my name more times than I would have liked, he readily agreed to let her have the time off.
Megan and I primped in the bathroom, and I hogged the mirror while I tried to expertly apply concealer on some of the bruises that were starting to yellow on my face.
“So where are we going?” Megan asked, running the makeup brush over her cheekbones.
“Wok and Roll,” I said.
She met my eyes in the mirror. “Why the heck are we going there again?”
“I told you, I owe Stanley Gao a favor. I can’t go back on my word.”
“Ugh, fine. But tomorrow night, let’s do something else. I feel like dancing.”
“You can dance tonight. Put them heels on, girlfriend,” I said, bumping Megan’s hip with my own.
She giggled. “Why are you making me get so dolled up just to go to Wok and Roll?”
“No reason. I just wanna get dressed up.”
“Uh-huh. Come on, Lana, who do you think you’re lying to?” she asked, pointing the makeup brush accusingly in my direction.
I held up my hands. “Okay, fine. Truth is … Stanley thinks you’re hot stuff. And getting you to come with me was part of our deal.”
Mean gasped. “I can’t believe you, Lana Lee. Are you putting me on display?”
Placing my hand over my heart, I did my best to look taken aback. “I am both shocked and appalled that you would even suggest such a thing.”
“Right. My little angel.” She rolled her eyes and exited the bathroom.
I followed behind her and we both searched for our shoes. “Don’t worry, I’d never let him near you with a ten-foot pole—he’s kind of a playboy. It’s just for show. I can’t have him telling Asia Village I was in his cooking class. It hasn’t come up yet and I’d rather he didn’t remind anyone.”
“But you’re not going back, right? You’re done with this whole cooking class scheme?”
I found the shoes I wanted to wear in the hallway closet. “Yup, I give up on trying to learn how to cook Chinese food … for now. If I really want to learn, I’ll save us all a bunch of trouble and just ask Peter.”
Megan was digging under the couch, and pulled out a red stiletto. “Good. Well, I hope you know that you’re going to owe me for this little shenanigan.”
I spread my arms out. “Thus is the cycle of life.”
We heard a car horn sound in the parking lot right outside of our apartment. Adam was picking us up and we planned to meet Kimmy and Peter at the Asian fusion restaurant to check out some 80s cover band making their debut performance.
Megan dug out the other shoe and slipped it on, adjusting her skirt. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I already have something in mind.” She sashayed over to the dining room table, grabbed her handbag, and tucked it under her arm. “You ready?”
I nodded, grabbing my own purse off the couch, giving Kikko a pat before following Megan out the door. “Well are you going to tell me?”
“I’d like to use Ho-Lee Noodle House for an entire evening … privately.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
She twisted the knob, and glanced over her shoulder, giving me a sly smile. “I have two words for you, my friend: Speed. Dating.”
St. Martin’s Paperbacks Titles by Vivien Chien
DEATH BY DUMPLING
DIM SUM OF ALL FEARS
MURDER LO MEIN
WONTON TERROR
EGG DROP DEAD
KILLER KUNG PAO
FATAL FRIED RICE
Praise for the Noodle Shop mystery series
“Will appeal to fans of Chris Cavender’s Pizza Lovers mysteries.”
—Booklist
“Funny, warm, and terrifying at times, Wonton Terror adds yet another delicious dish to Vivien Chien’s growing menu of enticing, cozy mysteries.”
—Suspense magazine
“Prov
ides plenty of twists and turns and a perky, albeit conflicted, sleuth.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Dim Sum of All Fears
“Vivien Chien serves up a delicious mystery with a side order of soy sauce and sass.”
—Kylie Logan, bestselling author of Gone with the Twins
“Thoroughly entertaining … fun and delicious.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Death by Dumpling is a fun and sassy debut with unique flavor, local flair, and heart.”
—Amanda Flower, Agatha Award–winning author of Lethal Licorice
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Vivien Chien was born and raised in an ethnically diverse household in Cleveland, Ohio. She found her love of books and the written word at an early age while writing short stories about her classmates in elementary school. Currently, she writes side-by-side with her toy fox terrier who refuses to sit anywhere else. When she’s not writing or frolicking in bookstores, Vivien enjoys frequenting local Asian restaurants and searching for her next donut. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
St. Martin’s Paperbacks Titles by Vivien Chien
Praise for the Noodle Shop mystery series
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First published in the United States by St. Martin’s Paperbacks, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.
FATAL FRIED RICE
Copyright © 2021 by Vivien Chien.
Cover illustration © Mary Ann Lasher / Bernstein & Andriulli.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN: 9781250782601
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.