by Vivien Chien
She spoke carefully into the phone and the translation came back as, “I like it here very much. I would like to live here.”
“You don’t want to go back to Taiwan?” I asked.
She shook her head. “A-ma is lonely in Taiwan. Everyone is too busy.”
I nodded in understanding. When my parents announced to Anna May and me that they were going to Taiwan because something was wrong with my grandmother, they never specified what the problem actually was. And when I’d questioned my mother about it, she’d told me to mind my own business.
Was my grandmother suffering from loneliness and was that the cause of the trip? The behavior my mother had reported back to me at the time they were away seemed to make sense now. My grandmother’s mood improved extensively once my parents showed up, and she’d begun to act like her old self again. Maybe her staying in the States was the best option for her.
I glanced toward the back room door to see if Joel would magically appear. I couldn’t help but wonder who he was meeting with and what was taking so long.
My grandmother gestured that she was going to the restroom so I decided to entertain myself by checking Facebook while she was gone. As I scrolled past photos of cake doughnuts and bears swimming in pools, an idle thought occurred to me. I could be eating lunch at the restaurant of a killer. And on top of that, I’d brought my grandmother along for the ride.
Had I really made the best decision by coming here and bringing my grandmother with me?
Was I making any sound decisions as of late? It was kind of after the fact to take it back now, but I wondered what an alternate time line of my life would have been like. I imagined that maybe I could have been a receptionist or office manager for a nice company where bad things didn’t happen to decent people. That had been my original plan. While I waited for my grandmother to return, I pondered at what point I went off my scheduled path of life.
The hostess, who was also our waitress, brought our soup and appetizers right as my grandmother was returning from the restroom.
The steaming bowls splattered onto the vinyl tablecloth as she set each one out in front of us. “Oops, sorry about that,” she apologized. “Be careful, it’s extremely hot.” Between our bowls of soup, she set down a wooden bowl of shrimp chips for us to share and two small plates with appetizer rolls on them. “The rest of your food should be out shortly. Just holler if you need anything in the meantime.”
My grandmother bowed her head in thanks, and then smiled down at her food.
I thanked the waitress as well and inspected my soup. If there’s one thing I am when I go to another Chinese restaurant, it’s picky. When your mother cooks the best food possible, it sets the standard for everyone else at an extremely high level. There were few restaurants in the city that I truly loved outside of Ho-Lee Noodle House.
I wondered what my grandmother, as a newcomer, would think of the different Chinese restaurants we had in Cleveland. I watched her as she sampled her soup. When she noticed me observing her, she pointed to the bowl with her spoon and shrugged.
Focusing back on my soup, I noted that it was a lot thinner than I was used to, and the top was covered with reddish slicks of oil. I put a small amount of broth on my spoon for a taste test.
Awful! And spicy! Too spicy. I quickly took a sip of water. So much for mild soup.
My grandmother laughed at my reaction. She dipped her own spoon into my soup, took a taste and puckered her lips.
Next, I tested the spring roll. Spring rolls are basically foolproof, which is part of the reason why I order them as one of my fallbacks. I took a bite and deliberated. Not bad, but slightly cold in the middle. I focused on my spring roll and slid the soup to the side.
My grandmother poked at her egg roll, took a bite, and gave me another shrug. “So-so,” she said.
While we ate in slight dissatisfaction, I gazed out into the parking lot, watching traffic move along Superior Avenue. It was a nice day with lots of sun, and people were taking advantage of a spring day without the threat of rain.
Our food finally came after what felt like an eternity. The waitress set the steaming plate of Mongolian beef in front of me, along with a nice-sized bowl of white rice. In front of my grandmother, she placed the platter of rice noodles topped with shrimp.
I broke the wooden chopsticks apart and went straight for a piece of beef. This was the deal breaker right here. The quality of meat is important to me and I believe it tells a lot about the restaurant and how well the food is cooked. The care they put into their ingredients speaks volumes.
Taking a bite of the beef, I immediately felt the gristly texture between my teeth. The flavor wasn’t bad, but it felt like I was chewing on a piece of fat. The gag reflex in the back of my mouth started to argue with me, and as discreetly as possible, I spat the piece of meat into my napkin and folded it, stuffing it under my dish.
My grandmother caught me and laughed. She poked at her shrimp and frowned. I nabbed a piece from her plate and immediately knew the cause of her unhappiness. The shrimp was overcooked and extremely dry.
She pushed all of her shrimp to one side of the plate and focused on the rice noodles. At least her meal wasn’t completely awful.
I decided to stick to the vegetables on my plate, which were overcooked and kind of mushy. And as long as I’m complaining, the rice was kind of dry.
I could see why someone in Norman Pan’s position would give Joel a bad review. What was worse was that after all of the reviews Norman had given him, he hadn’t changed the quality of his food. Assessing the items I’d ordered, I couldn’t believe that Joel had remained in business all this time.
After we had picked through everything we intended to eat from our plates, Joel still wasn’t done with his meeting. The unsatisfying food had left me grumpy and I didn’t feel like waiting anymore, so I asked the waitress for our check.
“Did you want to-go boxes?” she asked, pointing at our nearly full plates.
“That’s okay,” I told her, trying not to sound nasty while I said it. “We’ll just take the check.”
She returned shortly with the check on a black tray along with two fortune cookies.
The fortune cookies reminded me of Stella and I wondered how she was doing.
And then the weirdest thing happened.
Stella stormed out of the back kitchen, her face flushed with anger. Joel followed closely behind trying to catch up with her.
The absurdity of her showing up right as I was thinking about her made me gasp and the sound caused Stella to turn in my direction. When recognition hit, she also gasped, and guilt washed over her face.
“Lana…” Stella steered herself in the direction of our table. “What are you doing here?” She smiled politely at my grandmother before turning her attention back to me.
Joel stood a booth away, silent and observing our exchange.
“I should ask you the same thing,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “I’m actually here to see Joel.”
She looked back at him, and then at me. “Well, he’s all yours.” And she stomped out, leaving both Joel and me in an awkward silence.
* * *
After Stella left and I paid for our horrible lunch, I explained to my grandmother via the translation app that I was going to talk with Joel and I would be back in a few minutes. I opened up a gaming app and left her with my cell phone.
Joel brought me back to his office. It was similar to my mother’s in that it was cramped and definitely not fit for more than one person. The difference between hers and his was that his was actually tidy. He even had room for a plant on his desk.
“You wanted to see me about something?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the desk in front of him.
“I didn’t realize that you knew Stella,” I replied. “Seems like you know everyone around here.”
His eyes flitted up for a minute. “Is that why you came here, to interrogate me again? I’m kind of busy.”
“No, I ca
me to ask you some questions about Ray.”
“Oh, him.” The relief that washed over him was not lost on me.
“So, what gave you the idea that things with Ray and Norman were not going that well toward the end? Did you see anything that might give you that impression?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t see anything so much as I’ve heard things.”
“Heard what kind of things … where? And from who?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m not getting back any answers.” The sarcasm in my tone was thick, and that was just fine by me.
“What’s it to you anyway? Shouldn’t you let that cop boyfriend of yours figure it out? He’s supposed to be some miracle detective, isn’t he?”
“Because a bad thing has happened at Asia Village—”
“Yeah, and I would think that’d be more Ian Sung’s problem than yours.”
I scowled at him. “It concerns all of us at the plaza. And besides, Norman deserves some justice, don’t you agree?”
“No … I don’t think he does.” His tone was flat and his stare icy.
A chill ran down my spine. “No?”
“Oh, come on, Lana, look who we’re talking about. That man deserves exactly what he got. If he wanted sympathy in death, then he should have treated people with a little more humanity.”
“That’s a pretty bold statement for someone who is on the suspect list.”
He snorted. “On whose suspect list? Yours? I have nothing to fear … I didn’t kill anybody … I didn’t do anything … and I don’t really care what you think.” He stood up from his desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things I should be doing.”
“Just tell me where you heard about Ray and I’ll be on my way.”
Joel took a deep breath. “I said around, okay? Don’t you have a restaurant to run? Maybe you should try worrying about your own matters rather than pestering other people during their workday.”
I hated to admit defeat, but I didn’t feel like Joel was going to give in to me any time soon and I didn’t want to leave my grandmother alone for too long. “Fine.” I clutched my purse and stood up from the rickety chair. “I suppose I should be going.”
“Worry less about where I’ve heard things from and convince your boyfriend to look deeper into Ray Jin. You’ll get your answers … one way or another.”
I left confused and frustrated. I was confused about what connections Joel had with Penny and Stella, and frustrated with him and his unwillingness to tell me where he’d heard about Ray and Norman. What was the big deal?
His caginess on the matter led me to believe that he was either making it all up or he’d heard something he wasn’t supposed to and didn’t want to give himself up. At this point, both scenarios could be a possibility.
Debating between the two, I headed back to the restaurant with my grandmother for some real food.
CHAPTER
15
“Something is weird here,” I said to Megan when I got home that night.
She was at the kitchen table with her laptop. Her eyes didn’t even move from the screen when I walked into the dining area. “About Joel and his associations with Penny?”
Kikko ambled over to greet me, no doubt waking up from a nap. How I envied the leisurely life of a dog.
“Well, add Stella to his list of odd associations. I was just at Joel’s restaurant, and Stella was there meeting with him in private. I don’t understand how they would know each other … any of them. Stella doesn’t even live in this city.”
“Stella Chung, where did you say she lives now … Chicago? It’s possible she knew Joel before she made it as a big-time chef.”
“Yeah, I guess it could be possible. But that doesn’t explain the connection with Penny. What are you looking at?” I couldn’t stand it when I was talking to someone and they weren’t looking at me.
Her eyes finally left the screen. “How to ombre-dye my hair.”
“You’re planning on doing this yourself?” I asked, moving behind her to watch the video.
She shrugged. “Yeah, why not, you know? If it doesn’t work out, I’ll just dye over it.”
“Have Jasmine do it, it’ll be safer that way.”
Megan clucked her tongue. “Anyway, you were saying … Chicago. So, okay … pretend they knew each other from way back when. It doesn’t really make it a big deal now.”
“Then how does that explain Penny? She’s still the odd man out.”
“Where is Penny from?”
“Miami,” I told her. “She only moved here about a year and a half ago.”
Megan was focused back on her laptop. “Huh … weird.”
“Will you pay attention to me?” I asked. “You know, you’re the one who was so gung-ho about diving into this whole mess. And now I’m just going in circles all by myself.”
“Geez, sorry. What’s got you so crabby today?”
I shook my head, attempting to shake away the agitation that I felt. I knew I was on edge, but I hadn’t realized how much. “Joel and his attitude really set me off.”
With an understanding nod she closed the lid of her laptop and folded her hands over the top. “Okay, you have my full attention.”
“This is what I’m thinking … tell me if it sounds crazy.”
“You know I will.”
“What if Joel is who Stella is scared of? Maybe she saw him at the party and knows that it was him. So she goes to confront him at his restaurant and tries to make him turn himself in. Then I caught her in the act and she’s embarrassed because she knows that I know something strange is going on with her.”
“Okay, but what does any of that have to do with Penny?”
“Maybe Joel went to threaten Penny or … or … he went to see if she knows anything just like I did. She’s supposed to have those security cameras running and it’s not like he would know that they’re fakes. He could think she has evidence on tape or something.”
“Possible. It might be a stretch, but it’s not crazy.”
“What do you think happened?” I asked, plopping in the chair adjacent to her.
“Love triangle.”
I rolled my eyes. “Been there, done that.”
She laughed. “Just because it’s happened before, doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen again. The love triangle is a very popular circumstance in the murdering world.”
“Would you be serious?”
“You ask me that at least once a day, Lana Lee,” Megan chided. “And when has that ever worked out for you?”
“Point made.”
“I think you should talk to Penny again, see if she’ll tell you why Joel stopped by.”
“She hasn’t been very socialable with me lately. I don’t know if I’ll get much out of her.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try. You’re at the plaza anyway … hey, wait a minute, what about that Walter guy? Did you scratch him off your list?”
“No, I’ve just been avoiding anything to do with him for the time being.”
“Why, because of his daughter?”
“No, because he gives me the heebies.” I shivered thinking about our last encounter.
Before bed, I pulled the notebook out from under my mattress, and wrote down everything new that occurred since I’d woken up that morning. I put a giant star next to Joel’s name.
While I tried to fall asleep to the sound of Kikko’s snoring, I thought about what Megan had said regarding the love triangle. I found it highly unlikely that this was the case for the three of them. There had to be another connection. There just had to be.
* * *
All of Thursday was a complete bust. The restaurant was overwhelmed with business, and Nancy was running late because of a doctor’s appointment. It was almost time to wrap up for the day and go home when I’d finally finished prepping the bank deposit. I swung by the Bamboo Lounge but found the doors were locked. I had no idea whether or not Penny was inside, so I decided to head to the bank ins
tead.
After I finished up at the bank, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give Tammy at the Tasty Dumpling a quick visit before heading home. The address was in my purse, and I dug it out, typing the location into my GPS.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the Tasty Dumpling. It was a cute stand-alone building with a bright yellow sign that sported a cartoon dumpling with a smiley face. The lot was empty except for one car that I guessed to be Tammy’s. When I approached the door, I noticed on the sign that the restaurant was closed for two hours in the middle of the day. The restaurant was open from eleven A.M. until four P.M. and opened again at six P.M. for dinner. That explained the lack of cars in the parking lot.
The doors were unlocked and I entered the empty restaurant, a set of chimes going off as I walked in.
A petite woman in her mid-thirties with light brown hair and a button nose appeared from the back. “Oh, hello there.” She was holding a dishtowel and wiped her hands as she came over to greet me. “I’m not open quite yet, would you mind coming back in about a half hour?”
I extended my hand. “I’m Lana Lee, I was wondering if I could talk to Tammy?”
Stuffing the dishtowel under her arm, she smiled and took my hand, giving me a delicate handshake. “I’m Tammy, how can I help you?”
“This may seem kind of strange, but could I ask you some questions about your uncle, Norman Pan.”
The smile evaporated from her face, and she released my hand, folding her arms over her chest. “If you’re a reporter or something, I have nothing to say about his death.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no, you misunderstand, I manage Ho-Lee Noodle House, my restaurant is one of the contestants in the noodle contest.”
“Oh!” She chuckled to herself and seemed to relax. Unfolding her arms, she removed the dish towel and threw it over her shoulder. “I’ve had a few reporters come through here wanting to do an article about the man behind the reviews, but I told them I wasn’t interested. The less association I have with him, the better.”