Murder Lo Mein

by Vivien Chien

  “I didn’t know that Ian had picked someone for the job already.”

  “He made the decision yesterday. I guess him and Frederick go way back or something. I think he said they went to school together.”

  I watched him as he worked. He talked and laughed with the others as he helped lift one end of the stage. His biceps stretched the material of his shirt, and a sliver of tattoo was exposed.

  “How’s Adam?” Rina asked, breaking my stare.

  “Huh, what?”

  She laughed. “I asked, how’s Adam?”

  “Oh, right. Adam.” I straightened and turned my back to the crew. “He’s okay, I guess.”

  “I haven’t seen him around lately. Is everything all right with you guys?”

  Adam, also known as Detective Trudeau, was my sort-of-maybe boyfriend guy. I say sort of maybe because we have yet to seal the deal on the whole relationship bit. At the present moment, we were dating and not seeing other people—at least I wasn’t. But lately, we had been seeing less of each other. I kept reminding myself that it was his work that kept him away and not secretly his lack of interest. “He’s been busy with a case so he hasn’t had much time to stop by and visit.”

  Rina frowned. “Hopefully things will lighten up for him soon. Starting new relationships can be hard if you don’t put in the time.”

  “Yeah, you’re telling me.” I turned back around to the workers who were now taking a break. They had covered the koi pond with their makeshift stage and lounged on benches nearby. “Well, I better get to the restaurant, my mom and grandma are waiting for me.”

  “I’ll talk to you at the contest tomorrow! I have my fingers crossed that you guys win!”

  As I walked to the restaurant, I kept my eyes on the cobblestone pathway that trails through the plaza. I could feel four sets of eyes fixed on me as I walked by. Just as I was about to reach for the door handle of the noodle shop, someone yelled, “Hey!” and the natural reflex to turn and look kicked in.

  Frederick Yuan was jogging up to me, a dimpled smile on his full lips. “Hey, hi, I’m Freddie,” he said as he halted inches away from me. He extended a hand. “You’re familiar … why is that?”

  I took his hand and he gave me a firm shake. “I’m Lana … Lana Lee. I work here…”

  “Ah, that explains it. I’m the new community director. I’m starting next week.” His chocolate-brown eyes focused intently on mine, and I could feel the heat rising up my neck into my cheeks. “It’s nice to meet a friendly face … I look forward to seeing you around.”

  “Yeah … me too.” I realized he was still holding on to my hand, which was beginning to sweat. I jerked it away and hid it behind my back. “I’m sorry, it’s nice to meet you, but I have to go. My family is waiting for me.”

  “Oh, don’t let me hold you up. Just wanted to introduce myself.” He jerked a thumb at the stage behind him. “Are you going to be at the contest tomorrow? Your restaurant is in the competition, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Cool, I’ll see you then.” He gave me a wink before jogging back to the other guys.

  I turned on my heel and pulled on the door handle. Come Monday, Shanghai Donuts wasn’t going to be my only problem.

  * * *

  I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex a little after six o’clock. Making my way down the sidewalk to the two-bedroom apartment I shared with my best friend, Megan Riley, I spotted her car parked a few spaces away from mine. That was unusual for a Friday night because she worked at a bar.

  When I opened the door, my black pug, Kikkoman, who normally greeted me upon arrival, was nowhere to be found. “Hello?” I scanned the room. “Where is everybody?”

  “In here!” a muffled voice yelled back.

  I locked the front door and headed down the short hallway where I noticed the bathroom door was closed. The water was running and I could hear splashing. “What are you doing in there? Where’s Kikko?”

  “Open the door. You’ll see.”

  I twisted the door handle and poked my head inside. Immediately I burst into laughter.

  Megan twisted around from her kneeling position over the tub. Her long blond hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that whipped around as she shifted to face me. “Today, this little girl decided to roll around in some other dog’s poop. So now we’re having bathtime.”

  I continued to laugh. On my dog’s head was a mini shower cap stretched over her floppy ears. She looked up at me and her mouth dropped open. “Kikko, is this true?”

  Her little pink tongue flopped out and she panted in reply.

  Noting my best friend’s choice of black leggings and racerback tank top, I said, “I hope you’re not missing work because of this.”

  “Nope, I took off tonight so I could get up and go with you to the noodle contest in the morning.”

  “Aw, you did? That’s so nice!” I leaned against the bathroom wall, watching Kikko squirm in the tub.

  “I know how much this means to you. With everything that’s been happening, Asia Village needs a win.”

  “That’s exactly what I said earlier today. Business is still doing pretty well despite everything, but having an award-winning restaurant at the plaza would definitely help.”

  “Is Adam going to be there tomorrow?” she asked, shifting her focus back on the dog. “You haven’t mentioned him in a couple of days.”

  “That’s because there’s nothing to tell. And no, I don’t think he’ll be there tomorrow.”

  Megan pulled Kikko from the tub, carefully covering her in a towel. “He’s still busy with that case?”

  I nodded. “He sent me a few text messages, but nothing exciting. Just checking in and saying hello.”

  “I’m sure once things are wrapped up, he’ll be around again. It’s gotta be tough juggling that type of job and normal life.”

  “Right now my main concern is this noodle contest. We have got to beat the Shen family no matter what.”

  She released Kikko from the towel and the little pug shook the remaining water from her body before zipping out of the bathroom. “Peter is the best cook in town, I’m sure there won’t be any problems.”

  “There better not be. Or my mother won’t let me hear the end of it.”

  CHAPTER

  3

  Saturday morning I trudged out of bed, caffeinated myself heavily, and managed to leave a little earlier than planned with Megan in tow. She handled the early hours better than I did, but neither one of us were what you’d classify as morning people.

  The drive was a short one, and fifteen minutes later we were at Asia Village. The contest wasn’t scheduled to start until noon, but the restaurant managers, owners, and cooks had to begin preparing their stations two hours beforehand. Parts of the plaza were sectioned off with velvet rope to discourage stragglers from wandering into the contest area ahead of time.

  “My mom said to meet everyone at the restaurant,” I told Megan as I steered her toward Ho-Lee Noodle House.

  “Hope we can grab some food before the contest. I’m starving.”

  When we entered the restaurant, there was a commotion in the dining area. My mother was off to the side of the room flapping her arms up and down as she yelled at Esther and my grandmother. My sister was at the hostess station with her head in her hands, her jet-black hair covering her face and spilling onto the lectern. The Mahjong Matrons, our resident gossips and early-morning regulars, were half listening to my mother and half whispering among themselves. And Peter, well, my guess was that he was hiding out in the kitchen.

  I walked up to Anna May at the hostess booth and patted her arm. “Hey…”

  Her head shot up and she jumped up from her seat at the hostess station. When she realized it was me, her eyes narrowed to slits. She held a hand to her chest as if to catch her breath. “Lana! You scared me half to death! Don’t do that!”

  “Didn’t you hear the chimes?” I pointed to the bells hanging above the door. “What t
he heck is going on in here?”

  Anna May removed a hairband from around her wrist, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Mom is freaking out because Penny Cho entered the contest at the last minute.”

  “So?” My eyes traveled back to my mother and I watched as Esther tried to calm her down. She had a hand on my mother’s wrist and was whispering to her. “She has a right to compete in the contest just as much as we do.”

  Penny Cho was the owner of the Bamboo Lounge, a karaoke bar that served a light menu to their singing patrons. I was a little surprised she would enter, considering most of her menu consisted of appetizers. But she did offer a few noodle dishes, and as long as noodles were somewhere on your menu, you were welcome to compete.

  “Well, Mom is freaking anyway,” Anna May said, taking a quick peek over her shoulder. “She doesn’t want there to be any competition within the plaza. She said it will pit people against each other.”

  Megan stepped up from behind me and nodded in agreement. “I can see why your mom is upset. Up until last year, you guys were the only restaurant in the plaza. This has got to be awkward for her. Remember how upset she was when the Bamboo Lounge first opened? I think if Penny had ended up serving more than an appetizer menu, your mother would have had a coronary.”

  “Yeah, I know. She needs to take it down a notch though. Her spazzing out about this isn’t going to help anything.”

  “Do you want to tell her that?” my sister asked. “Because I certainly don’t.”

  “Where’s Dad?” I asked, scanning the room for him. He wasn’t hard to miss. He was six feet and two inches of white guy. In our crowd, he kind of stood out.

  “He had to show a house this morning, but said he’ll be here in time for the actual contest.”

  “I better go talk to Mom…” I turned to Megan. “Want to come with me?”

  “Lead the way.”

  “Good luck to both of you.” Anna May plopped back down on the hostess stool and put her head in her hands. “The yelling is giving me a headache.”

  My grandmother, who appeared uninterested in my mother’s ranting, was the first to notice me. She grinned, exposing her shiny silver teeth. “Laaa-na.” She greeted me with a hug and held my arms as she inspected my face. Reaching up, she patted my cheek.

  She grinned at Megan and gave her a polite nod. “Ni hao.”

  Megan looked at me. “That’s like hello in Mandarin, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Megan turned back to my grandmother and smiled. “Ni hao … A-ma.”

  My grandmother clapped and gave Megan a thumbs-up. “Very good!”

  While this exchange was going on, my mother and Esther had stopped their conversation and turned their attention toward us. “Did you hear what happened?” my mother asked. Her hands were on her hips and the scowl on her face confirmed that she wasn’t going to drop this any time soon.

  “Anna May told me about it … it’s gonna be okay, Mom. Really.”

  “You say it will be okay, and Esther says it will be okay.” My mother turned to acknowledge her friend. “But it is not okay with me.”

  “There’s no way she can compete with Peter’s cooking skills,” I assured her. “Her chef has nothing on us. Where is Peter anyway?”

  She waved an arm toward the back room. “In the kitchen.”

  “Okay, I’m going to talk to him.” I gave Megan the signal. “In the meantime, try to calm down; you’re going to make Peter nervous.”

  She clucked her tongue at me as we walked away.

  In the kitchen, I found Peter busy at the stove. He was dressed in his usual black attire complete with backwards hat. The only thing different were his shoes, which appeared to be a new pair of black Converse instead of the ratty old ones he wore on most days.

  “Hey, dudes,” he said with a nod. “How’s Mama Lee doing out there?”

  “Still the same … freaking out.”

  He smirked. “I told her not to sweat it. But you know your mom.”

  “I do indeed.” I glanced around the kitchen at the things Peter had already packed up. “Do you want help taking anything over to the cooking station?”

  “Um, sure, can you grab some of this stuff?” He pointed to a stack of boxes on the counter by the sinks.

  Megan went for a box of cooking utensils. “Where are we taking this?”

  Peter picked up a box of ingredients. “Follow me, ladies.”

  Like a row of ducks, we marched through the restaurant past my mother and Esther who were still going at it. They observed us as we walked by, but did not offer to help. My grandmother was now up front with my sister.

  “We’re heading over and getting set up. Are you stuck here during the contest or are you going to come and watch?”

  Anna May nodded. “Vanessa is on her way in and she’s going to hostess. Esther is covering the tables so Nancy can watch Peter during the contest, and Lou should be here any minute to take over in the kitchen. We’re all covered.”

  “Great.” I hoisted up the box I was carrying. “We’ll be back.”

  Peter led us through the maze of velvet ropes and up the steps onto the stage we had watched them build the day before. The area was busy with activity as the other restaurant owners set up their individual workstations.

  The chef stations were set up in a square formation with bleacher-style seats surrounding the stage on three sides. The fourth side was equipped with a table for the judges and a red curtain hung behind their stage. Hanging from the top of the curtain was a banner listing the five competitors.

  Our booth was directly across from the judges’ table which accommodated three chairs. A shiny silver name plaque was placed in front of each chair.

  The first one read: NORMAN PAN. It should have read Norman Pain because the man was a severe pain in the you-know-what. As a local food critic, he had made a lot of enemies along the way. To put it politely, he was fussy, and his reviews could be scathing. He was not afraid to get down and dirty, completely annihilating a restaurant with a few short paragraphs.

  The second nameplate read: STELLA CHUNG. I had heard the name several times as she was a Cleveland success story. After all, who didn’t love a good underdog anecdote? Stella had come from a poor family, found a passion for cooking, and struggled to get into culinary school. By the skin of her financial teeth, she’d made it into the Loretta Paganini School of Cooking where she excelled beyond everyone’s expectations. Shortly after completing school, she began working as a chef at a world-renowned Asian restaurant in Chicago.

  And the final nameplate read RAY JIN, owner and head chef of Taste of the Orient, a restaurant on the east side of Cleveland in an area referred to as Asia Town. Despite Ray’s suffering a few bad reviews from Norman Pan, he surprisingly took first prize in last year’s contest. A lot of controversy surrounded the news of his win after the results were publicly announced, and many suspected that he’d bribed Norman to take home the trophy. Like Peter had pointed out, it was never proven, and after a while the gossip had died down. I suspected now that he was a judge, it would get brought up again. The Mahjong Matrons would see to it, I was sure.

  The three of us began prepping the workstation, Peter mumbling to himself about placement as he went along. After two more trips back to the restaurant, we finally had everything set up and stepped back to admire our handiwork.

  “Looks like a mini-kitchen to me,” Megan said with satisfaction. “Now can we get something to eat? My stomach is growling and I’m actually enticed by these raw noodles.”

  “Agreed, let’s grab something quick from the restaurant. We still have a half hour before it starts.”

  We began to walk away, but I stopped when I noticed Peter wasn’t following. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked him.

  He shook his head. “Nah, you guys go on. I’m going to stay here and find my chi or whatever.”

  “Okay, we’ll be back in a little bit. Want us to bring you anything?”

  “No, I coo
k better on an empty stomach.”

  “What’s up with him?” Megan asked as we re-entered the restaurant.

  “I’m not sure. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s actually nervous about something.”

  CHAPTER

  4

  When we returned to the noodle-contest area with our to-go bags of food, a line of onlookers had started to form at the main entrance of the seating area. Freddie Yuan was helping Ian direct people through the maze of ropes to their seats.

  “There’s the new guy,” I whispered to Megan. “Frederick … Freddie Yuan…”

  “That’s the community director guy?” Megan asked, following my gaze. “He’s pretty cute.”

  “He’s okay,” I mumbled.

  Megan glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Uh-huh.”

  We took our places in the seats behind Peter’s workstation. My family was on their way over from the restaurant, but Kimmy and her parents were already seated in the row behind us.

  Kimmy leaned over my shoulder while I chomped on a spring roll. “Did you see the Shens over there? Looking all arrogant. That daughter of theirs … Jackie … I’d like five minutes alone with her in an alley.”

  Nearly choking on my spring roll, I whipped around. “Kimmy!”

  “What? She called you a half-breed. I don’t like it.” Kimmy sneered in the direction of their cooking station.

  Megan gasped, craning her neck to see who Kimmy was talking about. “What? Who said that?”

  “That girl, right there.” Kimmy pointed across the room to my archnemesis, Jackie Shen.

  “It’s no big deal.” I nudged Kimmy’s knee with my elbow. “And please, don’t bring it up in front of my mother. She hates them enough as it is.”

  “When did this happen?” Megan asked. “How come I never heard about it?”

  “It was at last year’s competition. Really, it’s no big deal. I forgot it happened actually.”

  Okay, that was a lie, I hadn’t forgotten. Truth was, being mixed has not always been the easiest thing to live with. According to who you were talking to, it could be a great thing or it could be viewed as a negative attribute. In the particular case of Jackie Shen, she looked down on me for it.