Death by Dumpling
Page 16
“Well, aren’t you just the good little daughter,” I teased.
“Hey, one of us has to be,” Anna May said.
“Whatever.”
“Love you too, little sister.” She made some kissy noises and hung up.
I tossed my phone back on the table and stared at my notebook. I flipped through the previous pages and snickered to myself about my earlier thoughts of Donna being a potential suspect. Well, that was out. I scribbled over her name.
I made a few more notes to myself before I turned my attention to the private investigating book. Maybe Megan was right and I needed to spend more time looking at it. It might give me some ideas I hadn’t thought of.
I flipped open the book and skimmed the table of contents. It had everything from becoming a PI to state requirements. I didn’t want to actually become a PI; what I wanted was to figure out what I should do next with all this random information I had. I fanned through the pages. That’s when I saw it, “Investigating the Crime Scene” … and it hit me—I had to go to the crime scene. I had to get into the office of Feng and Sung.
* * *
“This idea is crazy!” Megan screeched from the kitchen. She had just gotten home and was digging around in the fridge, while I told her the new scheme I had been plotting all night while waiting for her come home from work. I watched her mull it over.
“Well, are you in or not? I can’t do it by myself.”
She stared at me. “Of course I’m in. What do you take me for?” She took a swig of her beer. “How are we going to get in?”
“Leave that all up to me,” I said with pride.
Megan plopped down on the couch next to Kikko. “Do you really think someone was trying to kill her? I mean, geez, first her husband, and now her too?”
Kikko, not one to be disturbed while chewing her bone, secured the rawhide in her mouth and jumped to the floor. She repositioned herself on the rug and turned her back to us.
I sat down on the couch next to Megan, sticking my feet under the pile of blankets. “I don’t know.” I hadn’t told her that I thought the tea might actually have been meant for me. “I can’t believe that something like this would happen during his memorial.”
“I wonder if Peter hadn’t showed up, this still would have happened.”
“Megan!”
She looked at me sheepishly. “What? I’m just saying…”
“Well, don’t say.”
“Okay, sorry.” She leaned back on the couch. “So, what about this Kimmy thing then, what do you think that’s about? If she’s that worried about him telling you, to react the way she did … well … then I really want to know what it’s about.”
“For which, by the way, I’m going to need you to do a little bit of recon.”
Megan perked up, sitting straighter with her shoulders back. “You have a job for me? I thought you’d never ask.”
“I need you to do some digging on the computer.”
She slumped over. “Oh.”
I shook the investigation book at her. “This book has a list of Web sites you can use to look up information on people. While I’m at the hospital visiting Donna tomorrow, I need you to do some digging on Peter and Kimmy and see what you can find out about them. Maybe check out their social media too. Peter doesn’t really use that kind of stuff much, but I know that Kimmy practically lives on it.”
She grabbed the book from me. “It’ll be my pleasure to dig up dirt on Kimmy. She has to be up to no good with that crap attitude of hers.”
“She’s definitely hiding something,” I agreed. “She’s been acting too strange lately not to be.” I leaned back on the couch and reached for my notebook. I looked at Donna’s name scratched out and felt a bit of relief that I could take her off my list. At least that was one less to worry about.
Before I closed it and called it a night, I put a big black star next to Kimmy’s name.
CHAPTER
21
I hate hospitals. In my life, I’ve only been to about four different hospitals, but I think it’s safe to say, the smell is universal. It’s antiseptic and stagnant. You can decorate the walls with pleasant photographs or paintings, but it won’t change the stale taste that fills the air. Or the apprehensive look on the faces of just about everybody in sight. The most pleasant people are typically the gift shop workers.
I had come armed with balloons that had cheery “Get Well Soon” plastered all over them. Donna had a private room according to my mother, and that made me feel better. I despised the awkwardness that came when visiting someone and knowing that a complete stranger was eavesdropping from the other side of the curtain.
The door to her room was ajar, and all I could see through the small glass window were her feet. The television was on, but I couldn’t hear any sound.
I tapped lightly on the door, hoping that she was awake.
“Come in,” Donna replied, her voice sounding fragile.
Pushing the door open enough to slip inside, I shimmied in with the balloons until I was in plain view. Donna started to smile as she saw me walking in. “Oh, Lana, you shouldn’t have.” She waved me over. “Come in, come in.” She looked tired and I wondered if she’d slept at all since she became conscious.
“I thought these might help cheer you up.” I walked farther into the room and placed the balloons near the window by her bedside table. They were tethered by a weight wrapped in bright purple foil.
She turned her head to look at them. “They’re wonderful. Just what I needed.”
There was a cushioned chair angled next to the bed, so I sat down, folding my hands in my lap. “How long do you have to stay here?” I asked, giving the room a once-over.
Donna followed my gaze. “Oh, it’s not so bad. Maybe just another day or so. They want to make sure that everything is out of my system and that I’m fully hydrated and back to normal.”
“What happened exactly? If you don’t mind telling me…”
She looked up at the ceiling. “Apparently, it was an abundance of yellow jasmine … I guess I took too much?”
My eyes widened. “Yellow jasmine? What’s that?”
She sighed. “It’s an herbal remedy that I take for my migraines. Mr. Zhang promised me that it was safe to take, but I guess it can be quite dangerous. My doctor was pretty upset with me.”
My brain was moving faster than I could process the information. “It’s something that Mr. Zhang sells in his store?”
“I have been struggling with migraines for quite some time. And I hate taking prescription medicine.” She turned back toward me and smiled weakly. “So, when Mr. Zhang suggested yellow jasmine, I thought why not. It couldn’t hurt to try something new.”
My brain was still moving at warp speed but I forced myself to sit perfectly still and nod in understanding.
“I guess I’ve been so overwrought since Thomas passed that I haven’t been paying attention to what I’m doing. I’m just glad that my mother took Jill and Jessica to California. I’d hate to put them through this too.”
Without realizing it, Donna had given me the perfect segue for the plan I had cooked up. “That reminds me,” I said cheerfully. “Why don’t I stop by your place and make sure everything is okay? You know, water your plants and check your mail.”
Donna clasped her hands together. “What a great idea. With everyone gone, there’s no one to check on things, I’m afraid. I had thought about asking Ian, but since you’re already here…” She looked around the room. “Oh, over there, in that drawer, is my purse. Will you get it out for me?”
I went to the drawer on the other side of the bed and opened it, pulling out her purse. She stuck her hand inside and dug around for her keys.
“Now,” she said. “There is an alarm that’s set. I’ll write down the passcode for you to get in.” She dug around in her purse some more and pulled out a little notepad and pen. She jotted down the number and tore the page out. “You have sixty seconds to enter this code.”
I stayed with her and we talked for another thirty minutes before I made an excuse to leave. “I’ll swing by your place after I’m finished helping Anna May at the restaurant. I can have my mother bring back the keys when she comes to see you tomorrow. Do you want me to send anything with her?”
“Not that I can think of,” she said. “I don’t feel much like reading or doing anything.”
I said my good-byes and practically ran out of the hospital all the way to my car.
Once in the driver’s seat, I took a minute to collect myself. I looked at the keys in my hand and took a deep breath. My plan was in motion. Now, all I had to do was search the Feng house for a set of keys to get into the property office at Asia Village. Piece of cake. I’m sure there was a spare set somewhere in their house.
But first, I had to get a hold of Detective Trudeau. I needed to talk to him about the yellow jasmine.
* * *
I was fortunate enough to be shown to Trudeau’s office this time, which was a step up from the interrogation room. When I’d called him, he was just about to leave the office, so I’d had perfect timing. He sat behind his desk, with day-old scruff, and a wrinkled dress shirt.
I had just finished telling him about my conversation with Donna, minus the taking of the keys, when he held up one hand and put the other on his forehead. “And you’re telling me all of this because?”
“If she’s taking the stuff already, then she just overdosed on it. Right? Which means that no one was trying to poison her … or me.”
He reached for the Styrofoam cup sitting in front of him and took a swig. “It’s a possibility. The tea is already at the lab so we might as well have it looked at anyway. I’m having the individual cups tested and comparing it to the pot that was at the table. It might take a couple of days.”
“Even if she told me it was her own fault?” I asked.
He nodded. “Absolutely. It might be something different than she thinks, and I’m not taking any chances since we still haven’t figured out who’s responsible for her husband’s murder. It won’t hurt to find out the results.”
“Well, hopefully it’s all just a crazy coincidence.”
He drummed his fingers on his desk. “Do you remember anybody being at the table that shouldn’t have been there?”
“Not that I can think of. When I came back from the bar, there was a group surrounding Mrs. Feng … mostly people from Asia Village.” I thought back. “I remember seeing the Yi sisters, Cindy from the bookstore, and Mr. An, but I wasn’t there the whole time. I was being accosted by Kimmy Tran at the bar.” I shivered at the memory. There was still that whole ordeal to contend with.
“That might have been her plan,” Trudeau suggested.
“She verbally attacks me while I’m up from the table and then Peter drops poison into the tea?” As I said it, I visualized it. There I am talking to Kimmy and meanwhile, Peter’s back at the table sneaking droplets of random poison into a cup.
Trudeau stared at me. “What happened to Peter being innocent?” he asked.
I looked down at my hands. “It’s like you said, everyone’s a suspect.”
He stood up from his chair and came around to sit on the edge of his desk in front of me. “I’m really sorry that you got dragged into this. I know these people are your friends…”
He sat inches away from me, and I could feel the exact amount of distance between us just like I had at the bar. His body tensed and he cleared his throat. “Until we find out for sure, nothing changes. You still stay away from Peter … and maybe Kimmy too. Hopefully this will be over soon.” He got up and walked over to the door, refusing to look at me.
I started to rise. “Should I stay away from Mr. Zhang too?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
* * *
When I got in the car, I called Megan. “I’m on my way to the Feng house now,” I informed her.
“So, no problems getting the key then?” she asked. I could hear glasses clinking in the background.
“Nope, she was so happy that I was willing to do her a favor.”
“Great,” Megan replied. “Come by the Zodiac when you’re done, I have something to show you.”
She clicked off before I could ask what it was.
As I pulled into the Fengs’ driveway, I started to doubt that I could go through with my plan. The pit of my stomach was lined with guilt at the thought of going through someone’s personal belongings. But I couldn’t think of another way to get into that office. I didn’t know how to pick a lock and I didn’t have the time to learn.
I turned the ignition off and sat staring at their house, giving myself a pep talk. This will be a piece of cake, I said to myself, trying to restore the confidence I had when I left the hospital. No one was home and no one would be the wiser. No reason to be nervous. I would be in and out before I knew it. Right? Yeah, right.
As naturally as possible, I got out of the car and walked up to the door, trying hard not to look over my shoulder. Just act normal, Lana, no one knows you’re up to something, I told myself.
After grabbing the mail from the box attached to their porch wall, I turned the key and rushed inside, spotting the keypad on the wall in the entryway. I tapped in the four-digit code with fingers that vibrated like I’d had ten cups of coffee.
The silence in the house was overbearing and I cleared my throat, listening to the sound resonate in the hall. There was a long table to my right with a giant, ornate mirror above it. I took a peek at myself. One of these days I’d have to work on my poker face.
But for now, the sooner I pulled it together, the sooner I could find what I needed and leave. Reminding myself that my intentions were good helped a smidge.
Since I had it in my hands, I riffled through the mail that I’d taken out of the box. Nothing of significance stood out to me. Just a couple of credit card bills and some junk mail. I set it on the table and went to poke my head in the kitchen.
Everything was immaculate. The marble countertops were spotless and there wasn’t a single bit of clutter. The stainless steel appliances sparkled as if they’d just been cleaned that morning.
I opened a few drawers, but found nothing except kitchen utensils. Evidently this family didn’t have a junk drawer. Their house—though fabulous—was more like a showroom than a home, and there was nothing cozy or warm about it. Made me wonder how it was to be a teenage girl living in this palace.
I headed up the carpeted staircase from the main hall, and stood at the top staring down the hallway. There were six doors, two on my left and three on my right, and one straight ahead. I started on my left and found that both rooms on that side were Jill’s and Jessica’s bedrooms. The first one was right out of a Barbie catalog. I’d never seen so much pink. The other was more sophisticated and decorated in neutral tones with a dash of blue here and there, but nothing exciting.
The door at the end of the hall turned out to be the bathroom, and wow, I could have lived in it and been happy for the rest of my life. It was a massive tiled room with a Jacuzzi bathtub, a standing shower, and his and hers vanity sinks. There was even a chaise positioned in the empty space near the tub. I could probably fit five of my apartment’s bathrooms in there and still have space left over. I took a minute to contemplate the life of luxury.
After I was done drooling over their magnificent bathroom, I headed back into the hallway and checked the door on the right nearest the bathroom. It appeared to be a guest bedroom, plain and decorated in neutral tones similar to the one across the hall. An oil painting of a peacock hung above the bed.
Moving on to the next room, I opened the door and when I looked inside, my mouth must have dropped to the floor. Mr. Feng’s office was well lived in. The room contained every piece of personal character that existed in the house.
I stood in
the doorway and absorbed it in its entirety. On the walls were pictures of his kids, wedding photos, photographs of important ceremonies he’d attended, and pictures of what I assumed to be China. The room was lined with bookshelves—thick hardcovers on boring topics like business, finance, and property ownership. Against the far wall was an L-shaped desk that was covered with papers and more photographs. I would make that my starting point.
Giving the top of the desk a quick scan, I didn’t find anything of importance. Bills and letters from local companies littered the desk, and from what I could tell there was no organizing method. I thought about Ian trying to sort through the mess at the property office.
There were a few photographs of his family off to the side, but other than that, there wasn’t much to look at.
I opened the first drawer on the right and found more of the same, random papers that didn’t mean anything to me. Mainly I was looking for some type of key.
On the left side, the top drawer had a ring of keys in it. I couldn’t be entirely sure that these were the right ones because none of them were marked, but I took them anyway, and slipped them into my pocket.
I dug around a little more, and not finding anything of interest, I decided to be thankful that I’d found anything at all. I had a set of keys I could test out. I could go.
I shut the door and raced back downstairs. I froze in the middle of the staircase. At the door, a person stood with their face pressed against the small, frosted-glass window, their hands cupped around their eyes, looking in. They seemed to notice me and started pounding on the door. I made my way down, dragging my feet on the remaining steps. Who the heck could this be? And couldn’t they have waited until after I’d left to stop by?
I opened the door a sliver and poked my head out. Staring back at me was a middle-aged woman with big blond hair, and an equally big scowl on her face. “Who the hell are you?” She put her hands on her hips and gave me a stern, disapproving look. “And why are you in Donna’s house?”