by Vivien Chien
Mr. An seemed to weigh his options. His eyes burned into mine and I imagined he was trying to decide if I was worth it. With a disgusted look, he swore to himself and set the gun on the table in front of him.
“Hands up!” Trudeau barked.
In slow motion, Mr. An moved his hands over his head.
Trudeau moved in a flash and removed cuffs from his belt as he shoved him forward on the table. He slapped the restraints with force around Mr. An’s wrists.
I watched in amazement as Trudeau read him his rights and Mr. An groaned against the table. The door was flung open behind Trudeau, and with his free hand he flashed his gun at the intruder.
Peter jumped back. “Dude,” he shouted, holding his hands up over his head. “What’s going on?”
After that, everything went black.
* * *
When I came to, I was lying on the couch in the back room and someone was holding an ice pack to my head. It took me a minute to realize it was my mother. She looked down at me with a worried expression that eased to relief when she noticed that my eyes were open. “Ai-ya! Lana, you scared Mommy half to death!”
My father came running out from the office with Megan and my sister following close behind. “Hey there, goober, welcome back.”
“What happened?” I took hold of the ice pack and tried to sit up.
Megan sank down next to me, squeezing my shoulders. “You fainted during the arrest…”
“Of all days, Peter finally decided to come back to work today,” Anna May reported, laughing. “He called us right away.”
“Where is Peter?” I asked, looking around the room, not seeing him.
My mother answered. “I told him to go see Nancy. I told him they need to make up before he comes back to work.”
“But what about the restaurant?” I had no concept of time, but I was guessing we were supposed to be open right about now.
“Restaurant is closed today. Today we celebrate,” my mom said happily.
Anna May shook her head. “Who would have thought it was Mr. An that killed Mr. Feng? I didn’t even think they knew each other.”
I looked at my sister. “If you only knew.”
My mom stood up, clapping her hands. “Okay, noodles for everyone! I will cook.” And she rushed off toward the kitchen. As she made her way to the swinging door, Trudeau came through and practically got smacked in the face with the door. “Detective!” my mother said as she jumped back. “Why does everybody hide by this door? Mommy will have a heart attack one day.” She smacked him on the shoulder and continued on into the kitchen.
Trudeau snickered and came to stand at the foot of the couch. My sister and Dad looked at each other. “Come on, ladies,” my dad said. “We’ll go set a table in the dining room.”
Megan got up, pinching my arm, and followed my dad and sister out.
Trudeau looked at me with something like exasperation on his face. “Obviously, I got your message. You really push the limits, you know that?”
I looked up at him, feeling slightly embarrassed. “So I’ve been told.”
“What you did was dangerous … and foolish…”
I glanced up at the ice pack on my head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been injured. Maybe save the lecture for another day?”
He chuckled. “That’s fair. But just remember,” he said, turning to leave. “You’ve got it coming to you.”
“Trudeau…”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“Will you stay and eat with us? It would probably make my mother happy.”
Smiling, he said, “Oh, your mother, huh?”
“Well, yeah…”
He seemed to think on it, and then turned around to face me. “Under one condition…”
“Oh, brother.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay, what is it?”
“Call me Adam.”
EPILOGUE
Two weeks later, things around the Village were almost back to normal. The story of Charles An’s arrest had made front-page news. The headline featured in the Plain Dealer was titled I DID IT FOR LOVE. And unfortunately for Nancy and Donna, a lot of things that had been hidden were no longer so. Donna, ever resilient, managed to make a few graceful statements about water being best kept under a bridge. She sent sympathies to Nancy whom she labeled an innocent bystander in the whole mess. Somehow during the whole thing, she remained classy as ever. She never came right out and said it, but I knew she’d known the secret about Peter all along.
Mr. An admitted to the police that the yellow jasmine was originally intended to shut me up. And if Donna and I hadn’t switched seats, it might have worked. Because she had been taking it this entire time, she had built up a tolerance and it would have required a lot more to actually be fatal for her.
I had to appreciate the fact that she had inadvertently saved my life.
Peter and Nancy made up with each other just like my mother had insisted. Peter came clean and told Nancy all about Mr. Feng and his shocking confession. They had a lot to work through together, but I knew that all would be well in the end.
Kimmy Tran’s secret life as a cocktail waitress at the Black Garter remained secret. After a heart-to-heart sit-down with her, I managed to convince her I had no reason to expose her secret. She confided in me that it was her plan to help her family with their money problems.
She wouldn’t admit that she and Peter might have a thing for each other, but I felt it was almost too obvious to not be the truth. I’m sure the Mahjong Matrons would uncover any potential love story should it arise.
Things with Ian Sung seemed to mellow out, and whether he was still embarrassed from his stage performance at the memorial or not, I didn’t ask. For the time being, he was keeping things strictly business between the two of us. We even had our first committee meeting. For someone who wasn’t very good at business dealings, he had a lot of great ideas, and I thought that perhaps Donna was right in that he just needed a little bit of patience.
As for me, I was still reeling from the experience of being held at gunpoint. Sleep was rough and I often woke up in cold sweats. I was thankful more than ever that Kikko was there to snuggle with me when my imagination started to run away.
And despite that struggle, I didn’t forget the promise I made to myself about living life and getting over the jerk who’d stolen so much of my time and thoughts. No, this was a new beginning for me. Which is why I was headed on my very first date since my breakup.
The doorbell rang, and my stomach lunged into my throat. With one last look in my full-length mirror, I smiled to myself. You’ve got this, Lana.
I grabbed my coat and opened the door. There he was, staring back at me, handsome as ever. “Right on time, Detective…” I blushed. “I mean, Adam.”
His eyes crinkled with laughter, and I felt myself melt like crayons on a hot sidewalk. He offered me his arm. “Are you ready to go?”
It was just one date. What could it hurt?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
While the act of writing a book is solitary, the creation of one is not. When following a dream, you meet a lot of wonderful people along the way. Some of them help steer you in the right direction and others help make who you are today. It is those people I wish to thank.
First and foremost, I would like to graciously thank my agent, Gail Fortune, for helping my dream become a reality, and for letting me squeal on the phone. My deepest appreciation and gratitude goes to my editor, Hannah Braaten, and all of St. Martin’s Press for allowing me to be a part of their amazing family of authors. I feel so fortunate to have been given this opportunity.
Three cheers for Sisters in Crime, whose existence helps so many in achieving their aspirations in the mystery-writing genre. I would have been lost without you. A special shout-out to my local sisters and misters in NEOSinC who have not only provided me with an amazing support system, but also have become people I’m proud to call friends. Special thanks to my fairy godmother, Casey Daniels (who also writes as
Kylie Logan), for the encouragement she has provided and the wisdom she’s shared. And to our chapter president, Irma Baker, who has taught me so much about writing and style in the short time I have known her. Thank you from the bottom of my nerdy heart.
A big thank-you to Chief Erich Upperman of the Fairview Park Police Department for taking the time to answer my questions about local law enforcement. And much appreciation goes to Gage Roberts for helping me with general police procedure. (Any errors or changes to procedure belong to yours truly.)
Thank you to my amazing dad, Paul Corrao, for being my rock, and for entertaining all my wild ideas (in real life and in fiction). Xie xie ni to my mother, Chin Mei Chien, for showing me an amazing culture I am proud to be a part of, and for teaching me the value of laughter. Kudos to my sister, Shu-Hui, for taking me under her wing and putting up with me all these years.
I would be remiss if I didn’t send much love and respect to my milestone friend, Rebecca DuBiel, whose confidence and support has inspired me to push past my limits for the past twenty years. Hugs and gratitude to Tiffany Holliday for encouraging me to follow my dreams and always believing in me. Many hugs to Alyssa Danchuk, Lindsey Timms, Mallory Doherty, and Robert J. Moore for being my constant cheerleaders every step of the way.
For the unnamed family and friends who have shown me their love and support, I salute you.
Read on for an excerpt from
* * *
Dim Sum of All Fears
* * *
Available in September 2017
from St. Martin’s Paperbacks!
CHAPTER
1
“Ai-ya!” my mother bellowed from across the crowded restaurant. She stood up from the table, her hands squeezing her hips. My sister and father turned in their chairs to see what she was looking at with such disdain.
It was me. Lana Lee.
The gawking eyes of just about everyone in the room—including staff—followed me as I slunk across the restaurant to the table where my family was seated. Of course, they had to be sitting all the way in the back.
The best way to describe our family of four is similar to the game “one of these things is not like the other,” with my dad—the solo white guy—being the odd man out. Even though my sister and I are only half Taiwanese, you wouldn’t know it by looking at us. If I had a dollar for every time someone said, “That’s your dad?” well, I probably would never have to work another day in my life.
On Sundays, the four of us gathered for our traditional dim sum outing at Li-Wah’s on Cleveland’s east side. And, because of this, we opened our own restaurant, Ho-Lee Noodle House, at noon. This gave neither my sister nor me an excuse to skip out on family time.
“Shhh!” I hissed at my mother as I slipped into the empty seat next to my sister. “People are staring at us!”
“Your hair is blue!” my mother screeched, ignoring my plea. “Why is your hair blue?”
My mother, though petite, did her best to tower over the table. At times it was hard to take her seriously because she was so darn cute with her chubby cheeks, but it was all in the eyes. And today, the eyes let me know that she was not amused.
I lifted a hand to my head, running my fingers through the freshly dyed hair. “Not all of it.”
Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the best time to dye my hair with streaks of blue. I hadn’t really thought that part through when I’d set up the appointment.
Not only was I springing a daring new hairstyle on my parents who were both on the old-fashioned side, but I was also getting ready to tell them that I had been interviewing for a new office job in hopes of quitting my stint as server at our family’s restaurant.
Most of the positions I had been looking into were for data entry jobs, but there was one company that stood out amongst the others that I had applied for and the position was a little higher on the totem pole. It was for an office manager and the pay was great. The benefits package was great, the office itself was great … everything was great. And, added bonus, it came with three weeks of paid vacation.
I’d interviewed with them the week before and it had gone exceptionally well. They had called this past Friday to set up a second interview for this upcoming Thursday and I had a good feeling that by the end of it, the job would be mine if I wanted it. Which, of course, I did. After all, a gal can’t peddle sweet and sour pork her entire life. So, alas, it was time to let my parents know they needed to start looking for new help.
“Betty.” My dad, the calm and collected one of the family, put a gentle hand on her forearm, nudging her back into her seat. “Let’s all sit down.”
Anna May—older sister and picture-perfect daughter—gave me a once over. “And you did this … on purpose?”
After stuffing my purse under the table, I shimmied out of my winter coat and hung it on the back of my chair. “Yes, I did it on purpose. Not all of us want to be so plain all the time.” I gave her a pointed look.
“Interesting.” My sister ran a French manicured hand through her pin-straight black hair. It fell just below her shoulders, gleaming. “I suppose you’re right though, not all of us can pull off a classic look.”
My own nails, painted teal, were chipping. I hid my hands under the table before she could notice. “If that’s what you want to call it…”
My mother continued to analyze my hair; her eyebrows scrunched low over her eyelids. “Why did you do this?” Her lips pursed as she landed on the question mark.
With a shrug, I replied, “I don’t know. I felt like it.” Lie. I did know. However, I didn’t want to admit to them, or to anyone, that it was because of what happened to me only a few short months ago. Of course, I’m sure that no one would say anything once I explained that it was because my life had been threatened at gunpoint, but part of me didn’t want to say it out loud. Saying it out loud made it more real.
Since then, I’ve decided to stop putting things off until the elusive ‘tomorrow.’ Procrastination is nobody’s friend.
My savvy stylist, Jasmine Ming, was more than thrilled to swap out my gold peek-a-boo highlights for some bright blue ones. I don’t want to go overboard, but I’m pretty sure I saw a glint in her eye when she added the first touch of blue.
I reviewed the plates on the table and avoided eye contact with my mother. Placed in front of me were plates of baby bok choy in garlic sauce, noodle rolls, turnip cakes and pot stickers. I busied myself with unwrapping my chopsticks and grabbed a rice noodle roll stuffed with shrimp.
My dad looked at me with a soft smile. “Is this because of ‘what’s his name’?”
“No, Dad,” I huffed, my chopsticks involuntarily tapping my plate. “I could care less about him.”
OK, that wasn’t totally true either. “What’s his name” was my ex-boyfriend, who we did not mention by name. Ever. Not unless you wanted me to sprout snakes out of my head a la Medusa.
Anna May snickered. “No, Dad, she’s dating Detective Trudeau now, didn’t you know?” She clasped her hands together next to her face and batted her eyelashes. “He’s sooo dreamy.”
“Would you all stop it?” I jabbed the noodle roll with my chopsticks. “You’re making a big deal over nothing. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while, and I decided to stop putting it off. That’s all.”
I twisted in my chair, to properly face my sister. She looked a little too amused at my expense. “And, for your information, Adam and I have only been out on two dates. I hardly call that dating. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Anna May turned her nose up. “Well, I won’t be looking for my wedding invite any time soon, but still, close enough.”
“I kind of like it…” My dad cocked his head at me, nodding in acceptance at my hair. “Now, about this Adam character … he’s a cop, so he’s no slacker. Does he drive American?”
“Bill,” my mother clucked her tongue. “This is no good. My daughter looks like a cartoon.”
“Oh honey, she looks fine,” he said
, squeezing her hand. “Let’s just enjoy our lunch before we have to head to the restaurant.” He tapped his watch. “Besides, we still have the news we need to tell the girls, remember?”
My sister and I glanced at each other.
“What news?” Anna May asked.
My mother set down her chopsticks and shifted in her seat. “Your A-ma called this morning. She is very upset and has been crying for many days now.” She shook her head. “Your uncle does not know what to do with her.”
My “A-ma” is my grandmother in Taiwan. Because of her declining health she was now living with my mom’s younger brother and his wife, along with their three children. Two of the children are close to the toddler range, so I’m guessing the living quarters were starting to feel a little cramped.
“So…” my father started, urging my mother along.
“We are going to Taiwan for a couple of weeks to help take care of A-ma.” My mother said this in one long blurt while avoiding eye contact with my sister and me.
“A couple of weeks?!” I screeched. No, no, no. They couldn’t leave now. Not when I’d just found the perfect office job.
“Right before Chinese New Year?” Anna May looked between the two of them. “Can’t you wait until after it’s over?”
My parents looked at each other.
“Who will run the restaurant?” I asked, fearing the answer. Any way you spun it, it wouldn’t be good.
Anna May perked up beside me, straightening in her seat. “Well, that’s obvious … it’s—”
“Lana will run the restaurant,” my dad announced before Anna May could continue. He put his arm around my mother and gave her another squeeze.
“What?!” My sister and I shouted in unison.