I introduced Marshmallow to her, and she scooped him up. He didn’t unleash his claws as she cuddled him. Instead, he sniffed the air.
“Pumpkin spice,” I whispered.
Marshmallow snuggled in Pixie’s arms. “No, I think it’s the comforting essence of unbridled wealth.”
I choked a little, and Pixie looked at me with concern. “You must be parched. How about a drink?” She put down Marshmallow and walked through her enormous house with her typical graceful stroll.
Marshmallow’s head turned this way and that. I wondered if I’d exhibited the same awestruck manner the first time I’d visited. The multiple columned hallways leading to hidden spaces and the sleek travertine floors had overwhelmed my senses back then.
With its amazing flourishes and fabulous decorations, Pixie’s house reminded me of a museum. Everything in it seemed like an invaluable piece of art.
When we arrived at the kitchen, I wondered for a moment if I should stand instead of sitting down at her inlaid mother-of-pearl breakfast bar. But the fancy bar stools with their ergonomic cushions looked so comfortable. I sank down into one of them.
Pixie offered me a refreshing iced tea, infused with hand-picked herbs from her garden. Hexagonal ice cubes floated in the glass she gave me. Marshmallow even got something to drink: a bowl of volcanic filtered water.
I tried to remember if I’d seen any signs of her cute shih tzu prancing about in this labyrinth of a home. “Where’s Gelato?” I asked Pixie.
No sooner had I said his name than a fluffball came springing through a doggie door leading into the back garden. He slid a little on the smooth floor in his excitement.
I crouched down to his level and greeted him. In return, he jumped up and began licking my face. “You sure are a sweet treat.”
Marshmallow grumbled. “A literal kiss-up, you mean.”
After a prolonged patting session, Gelato seemed satisfied with my affection. The shih tzu moved on to Marshmallow.
Scrutinizing my cat, Gelato circled him several times. Then the dog wagged his tail with abandon before settling down a few inches from Marshmallow to watch him drink.
Pixie and I were finally free to chat.
“Thanks for letting me come,” I said. “Knowing your full schedule, I hate bothering you.”
Pixie placed her drink, a frothy pink concoction with a raspberry on the rim of the glass, on the counter and sat down beside me. “It’s my pleasure,” she said. “I wish we could see each other in person more often, actually. Plus, I’ve been meaning to check in with you about Hollywoof. Did you make some good connections at Lauren’s yoga class?”
“Sure did.” I swiveled my stool to face her. “I even went to a doggie pool party recently. Maybe I’ll get some leads from that, too.” After all, I had placed my cards on the side table.
“Pool playdates,” Pixie said. She ran her finger down the stem of her glass. “We don’t go to those anymore. Gelato feels too intimidated by the big dogs. Plus, after the Catalina Island mishap, he’s still hesitant about being near any body of water.”
I scooted off the stool and petted Gelato on his head. “You know, I’d rescue you again in a heartbeat.”
He pushed his nose into my palm, and I stroked his fluffy ears.
Returning to Pixie at the counter, I said, “Even though you two aren’t into pool parties anymore, you know about that crowd, right?”
She plucked the raspberry from her glass and held it poised in the air. “I keep tabs. Why?”
“For the pool party, I went to the house of Indira Patel—”
“Her name sounds familiar. Ah, I know. She designs those luxury fanny packs.”
“Yes, that’s her. While at her house, I saw the pool man, a Kevin Walker. Have you heard of him?”
“Walker . . .” She popped the raspberry into her mouth.
“He’s really tan. Wears a straw hat about this big.” I used my hands to indicate its dimensions. “Owns a rattling truck. And I heard he ran out in the middle of a pool job to check on his rental property.”
Pixie snapped her fingers. “Ah, yes. Heard about that through the grapevine. People love to go on about their domestic dramas. He almost got fired on the spot, but the pool owner forgave him after he returned to finish his work and apologized.”
I took a big gulp of tea and let its coolness clear my head. “When did he show up again?”
She twirled the pink liquid in her glass. “That same evening, in fact. He wound up having to clean the pool in the moonlight. The pool owner admired his tenacity. Plus, he gave her a month of free pool services. That helped his cause.”
My heart sank. So Kevin hadn’t been lying. He had gone to Russ Nolan’s and come back quickly.
Pixie squeezed my hand. “What’s all this about, anyway?”
Did she really need to know about my run-in with the law? She’d invested in Hollywoof, essentially entrusting me with a huge chunk of money. Would she find me less trustworthy if she knew the trouble I’d gotten myself into? “It’s nothing,” I said, draining my glass.
Pixie gave me a quizzical look.
“I’d better get going,” I said.
Peeking over at Marshmallow, I no longer found him by his water bowl. Instead, he lay a few feet away, asleep on a soft mat, which seemed to be vibrating.
I nodded at my snoozing cat. “What’s he napping on?”
She flicked her wrist toward him. “That’s the doggie massage mat. But I guess it works on cats, too.”
I tiptoed over to Marshmallow and picked him up from the luxury mat. It turned off after I retrieved him. Must be triggered by weight.
I said goodbye to Pixie and trudged over to the front door carrying Marshmallow. Wow. He really could stand to lose a few pounds.
She wedged an envelope into my cat-filled hands. “Whatever you’re dealing with,” she said, “it sounds like you might need a break. A night out. Here are two tickets to a local fundraiser for a nonprofit that’s right up your alley.”
Pixie opened the front door but paused on the threshold. “Mimi, we’re friends, not just business partners. You know you can tell me anything.”
I gave her a tight smile. “Maybe in the future. I think I need to deal with this on my own for now.”
Pixie’s concern was sweet, but I couldn’t involve her. I mean, I hadn’t even mentioned a word to my own family.
Which reminded me. Family night was fast approaching. I shuddered.
It was easy to tell my loved ones about good news, like my relationship with Josh, but I didn’t want to let slip anything negative. They all counted on me to be the eldest, the model daughter and sister. I couldn’t let them down.
As I dragged a comatose Marshmallow into the car, I pondered over the info I’d gotten from Pixie. Kevin Walker hadn’t lied about returning to work on that same evening. Had he also been speaking the truth about Russ Nolan’s love life?
The breeder had been expecting company, waiting for a lady visitor. Who might it have been? Could that woman have seen something important—or even have been the killer herself? I knew one nosy neighbor who might have the scoop.
CHAPTER
eighteen
DRIVING ON THE 405 the next day after work, I grumbled to Marshmallow about the traffic. “If only you qualified as a passenger, I could use the HOV lane.”
In the rearview mirror, I saw him stick his nose in the air. “Yeah, cats are worth at least two humans.”
“Be grateful that at least you’re relaxing in the back.” My hand hovered near the horn. Should I honk at the guy trying to cut in front of me?
“I’m in a caged box,” Marshmallow said. “It’s no spa, sister.”
“I have to be your chauffeur.”
He swiped at the bars of his carrier. “Drivers take you where you want to go. I didn’t sign up for this jaunt.”
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“Aw, Shirl isn’t so bad.”
He didn’t comment during the rest of the drive to her house.
Shirl, on the other hand, seemed enthused to see us. She led us to her sitting nook, where she’d already positioned a laptop on the doily-covered table. “You caught me in the middle of my YouTube marathon, but I can take a break to see Emperor do some live tricks.”
The video was on pause, and I could hear a loud buzzing noise coming from the kitchen. “What’s that sound?”
“The popcorn machine warming up. It takes a while before it gets to popping.” She sat down in one of the plush chairs.
I perched on the edge of the armchair opposite her. “We won’t keep you long, Shirl. Actually, I wanted to ask you again about Russ Nolan, whether you saw a lady visiting him the night he died . . .”
She crossed and uncrossed her legs. “I told you I didn’t see a thing. No one visited him.”
“Really? Kevin Walker told me otherwise.”
She looked over her shoulder toward her neighbor’s house.
“You can tell me, Shirl,” I said. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to the police, but I’m your friend.”
Her face scrunched up. She looked like she was on the brink of deciding to confide in me. Then a series of pops burst from the kitchen. She scrambled off her seat and disappeared.
When she returned, she was carrying a giant bowl of buttered popcorn, and her face looked shuttered. “There’s nothing to tell,” she said.
“He didn’t have a girlfriend?” She didn’t respond, and I wondered if I might butter her up. Leaning toward the bowl, I took a big whiff. “That smells heavenly.”
She pulled away the bowl of popcorn and crossed her arms over it in a protective motion. “Russ Nolan didn’t have a lady friend.”
That was a far cry from the statements she’d made when I first met her. “What about all those women you saw visiting his house? You even accused me of being his girlfriend before. Surely one of them could have actually taken a shine to him.”
She scoffed. “Not with his cheap taste in wine.”
Marshmallow spoke up. “How would she know about his drinking habits?”
If she’d seen the label on his wine bottle, it meant she’d had the opportunity for close-up observation.
Shirl watched me exchange a look with Marshmallow.
“Are you sure you don’t have more to tell me?” I asked her.
She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and munched. “I’ve told you all I know.”
Shirl unpaused the video, and the cat onscreen started tiptoeing on its hind legs.
Marshmallow shook his head. “What a joke. Cats belong on the ground. That’s why we have four paws.”
“Are you sure you have nothing to add?” I asked Shirl, but her eyes remained glued on the screen.
I sighed and gathered Marshmallow. “Guess we’ll be on our way.”
As we exited the house, I heard my phone chime out a reminder. I opened up my calendar app. Time for Family Game Night.
* * *
• • •
Ma and Dad had loaded the dining table with snacks. I spied bowls of dried squid, roasted broad beans, and, my personal favorite, peanut candy. Those square-shaped treats melted like sugar in my mouth, depositing peanutty goodness on my tongue. Inevitably, the delicate layers of the pastry left crumbs everywhere.
Ma fanned her hand in front of my face. “Your boyfriend is where?”
Um. I’d lost myself in dreams of peanut candy. Why hadn’t he shown up yet?
“Maybe he got caught up at work,” I said, grabbing a few pieces of peanut delight.
Ma traced the outline of a silver rose on her dark blue qipao. I’d noticed she was wearing the traditional figure-hugging dress tonight. She’d even put on makeup and opted for false eyelashes.
Dad pulled at the collar of his shiny polyester dress shirt. No doubt he’d worn it at Ma’s bidding. “What’s your man do again?”
“He’s a lawyer,” I said.
Ma squeezed Dad’s hand. “Wah! Must make good money.”
“A steady income,” Dad added.
Alice popped her head out of the closet and said hello.
“Ooh, my favorite Lee,” Marshmallow said, sprinting her way. Gee, thanks, I thought as he did a figure eight around her legs.
My sister grinned and patted him. Then she turned to me and said, “What kind of games does Josh like?”
“Let me ask him.” When I looked at my phone, though, I realized I’d already missed a text from him. It read, Sorry. Something came up.
I blinked at my cell. Had he bailed on me in four words? Was this like a breakup text? I hadn’t said so, but he must’ve known meeting my family would be a huge milestone. Or was that the real reason he’d failed to show up?
I pulled an Alice and locked myself in the bathroom to get some privacy, just like she had during the egg tart sympathy party we’d thrown her. Pacing around the cramped space, from sink to shower and back again, I dialed Josh’s cell. No answer.
I called his office. Voice mail. Was he avoiding me on purpose? Had I pressured him too much by extending an invitation to meet my family so early in the relationship?
I sat down on the toilet and placed my head between my hands. This dating thing was harder than it looked.
A soft knock sounded at the door. “Mimi?” my sister asked.
I let her in.
Seeing my crestfallen face, Alice gave me a long hug. “What happened?”
“Josh can’t make it, and he told me over text. Now he’s avoiding my calls.”
She placed an arm around my shoulder and led me back to the dining room. “There could be a million reasons why he couldn’t come.”
My parents, seated at the table, looked up at me with puzzled faces.
“Did he run into traffic?” my dad asked.
Alice tossed a sweet smile their way. “Josh is busy tonight, so we’ll meet him during the next family get-together.”
Ma harrumphed.
I sat down as Alice went to search the hall closet to select a game. She picked out a four-player option: Scrabble.
After we set up the board, Ma clucked as she selected her tiles from the bag. “Not show. Such a nerve.”
Dad’s head bent near Alice’s, and I leaned in to listen. “Have you actually met this Josh fellow?” he whispered to her.
For a moment, his forehead crinkled up with worry. Maybe he was recalling the time I’d made up a pretend classmate in kindergarten. He’d learned about my immense imagination at Back to School Night when he’d talked to the teacher.
“I grew out of make-believe, Dad,” I said.
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just asking Alice a simple question.” But his forehead unfurrowed.
After we organized the letters on our racks to our hearts’ content, Ma patted my arm. “What about library date? College student nice, eh?”
“Ma, he came for career advice, not to improve his social life. And he was a teen. That’s so wrong.”
“Let’s get started,” Alice said as she tapped her finger on the star in the center of the board. We began to play.
Mired in misery, I could only create words related to the dismal state of my mind: “alone” and “cancel.” Even Marshmallow could sense my sadness, and he sat in my lap, nudging my hand to pet him. Stroking his soft fur did calm me down.
About five minutes into the game, Marshmallow asked, “Is something up with Alice?”
Huh? I looked at my sister’s face, but it only held intense concentration. She seemed focused on completing her latest word, “school.”
I clapped for her. “Ooh, double word score.”
She shrugged. Always so humble.
Marshmallow’s gaz
e seemed intent on following all the letters crisscrossing one another on the board. “Did you check out her other words?”
I examined the board and tried to sort the various words by player. Dad had put down “golf” and “pal.” His plays were also easy to pick out because he never made words beyond five letters. Ma had gained valuable points by using the word “family” and had even scored a proper bingo by disposing all her tiles to make “weddings.” Alice must have put down “principal” and “worry.”
Everyone waited for me to take my turn, but I paused the game. “Is everything okay at school, Alice?” I gestured to her words. “Did Principal Hallis threaten you again?”
Her eyes started glistening, and she sniffed. “They’re not just empty threats anymore.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a pink slip.
I gasped while she leaned her head against Dad’s shoulder.
“How dare she?” I said.
“She is the boss.” Alice folded the paper. “I thought the principal might be more understanding. She has a hedgehog. Aren’t pet owners supposed to have a strong sense of empathy?”
“Not all animals are the same,” I said.
She sighed and returned the piece of paper to its hiding place. “It hurt being the only one singled out. Not even the teacher who got hired three months ago received a slip.”
Dad put his hand on her shoulder. “Princess Two, how are you holding up?”
Alice tucked her hair behind her ears. “The principal didn’t give me a specific date that I need to leave by. I’m hoping to make it through the end of the school year. In the meantime, I’m just trying to love on the kids every single day I get.”
I saw Ma scoot down in her chair. Soon, I felt a sharp kick to my shin. Ow. She glared at me. “Big sis boleh.”
I shook my head. “Not this time, Ma. Big sis no boleh. I no can do.”
She raised her overpowdered eyebrow at me. “Give up? Not Lee way.”
So I added another task to my growing mental checklist: “Help Sister.” It would rank a little below my top two priorities: “Find Killer” and “Confront Boyfriend.”
We finished up Scrabble, persevering to the end, with the family drive Ma had instilled in us. Of course, Alice won the game. She usually did. But maybe this time we unconsciously let her.
Mimi Lee Gets a Clue Page 14