by Aysia Amery
:: Chapter 13 ::
I told Pako about the discussions I’d had with Elaine, Ken, and Helen on my independent excursion without him.
“We need to talk to Nolan again,” I said. “Are you able to get back on this case, or do I need to go it alone for now?”
“I can get back on this tomorrow, so wait for me. We’ll go see them together. Also, we want them all in the same room for this one. I wanna see their interactions.”
“That’s a good idea, Pako.” There was a lot you could tell from how each suspect reacted to questions when the focus wasn’t on them, or when one talked while the others listened.
With two of us there, one was able to scrutinize the body language and facial expressions of the others, while the other focused on the speaker.
“Set up the interview and let me know what time,” I added.
“You bet.”
After we hung up, Jemma’s smiling face showed up on my cell’s display.
“How’s your vacation from me going?” I asked her.
“I am so pathetic,” she answered.
“Well, that’s not news, but tell me what happened.”
“Oh, shut up. At least I’m not as pathetic as Reese.”
“Don’t make me answer that,” I joked. Jemma should know better than to egg me on like that. Merciful wasn’t in my DNA.
“You gonna be a friend or a wise-butt?”
I wanted to laugh. “You gonna make me choose? Why can’t I be both?”
“I’m comin’ over,” she said. Before I could reply, she hung up.
Sheesh. What if I was indisposed, doing something where I couldn’t entertain visitors? Like giving myself a coffee enema. Knowing Jemma, she’d be right there with me in the bathroom, holding up the enema bag while she rambled on with her story. That’s how kooky, but loveable, my redheaded friend was.
Guess I could ignore the doorbell.
On scheduled work days, Jemma and Reese both entered through the kitchen without knocking. But at other times, they’d ring the front door. There was a clear distinction between the two forms of visitation.
Well, I guess she was on her way, so I best get ready for her. She sounded in a mood. And not a good one. Probably needed a shoulder to cry on, I’d wager. I’ve still got that batch of cookies I baked the other day. Yes, that’ll make my poor friend feel better from whatever ailed her.
Before I could even consider heading for the bathroom, my doorbell rang.
“That was quick. You fly over here on your broomstick?”
Jemma was the most cautious driver I knew, so I was surprised at how fast she got over here.
“I was in the neighborhood.” Jemma practically pushed me aside as she scuttled past me into the foyer.
“Really? Were you already sitting in my driveway when you called?”
“I’m a nervous wreck,” she said, ignoring my question as the words huffed and puffed out of her ruby lips.
“You sound like you ran from your car to my doorstep.”
“Are you gonna go on and on about my respiratory functions, or are you gonna listen to my woes?”
Oopsies. The drama was about to hit the fan. I might need a helmet.
“What’s going on?” I asked. No jokes this time. “You wanna sit down?”
“No, I’m too anxious. I’m gonna start pacing anyway.”
“Well, maybe I should sit down,” I told her. I figured the best place for us to be was in the kitchen. That way I could shove the cookies at her without breaking her dialog stride.
As she followed me, she said, “So, I was enjoying my time away from the slave kitchen”—ACK! Now who was being a wise-butt?—“when guess who knocked on my door?”
How the heck would I know?
“I see ghosts, I don’t read minds, nor do I time travel.”
“My ex!” She paced around the kitchen island.
“Sit down, Jemma. You’re making me seasick.” Again she ignored me.
“Do you know what he wanted?” It was a rhetorical question, and I refrained from any more wise-butt remarks as I could see this was serious for her.
“He wanted to borrow money!”
I pushed in her direction the dish of cookies I had ready for her. Jemma’s eyes stared at them as though she didn’t know what they were. But I knew her mind was elsewhere and her eyes weren’t in sync with her brain at this moment.
“Lending him money is the last thing on earth I’d do for him, especially after what he did.”
Colin, her ex-husband, had cleared out their bank account just before she sent him packing. She filed divorce papers before her tears had time to dry.
Unfortunately, getting rid of the guy wasn’t as easy as erasing chalk scribbles from a blackboard. Colin still loved Jemma so whenever she’d bump into him now and then, he’d beg her to give him another chance, which of course he was never gonna get. With Jemma, if you betrayed her just once, she turned into the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. One strike and it was ‘off with your head.’
Jemma struggled getting herself out of debt after what Colin did, and she promised herself that would never happen again. I couldn’t blame her.
“Have a cookie. It’ll make you feel better,” I said.
She grabbed a Cranberry Cornflake Chocolate Chip with Macadamia Nuts one and chomped away.
“Is it helping?” I asked.
“No, but I might as well enjoy my misery while I’m at it.” Chomp. Chomp.
“That’s the spirit,” I said with a smile.
“Why can’t he just stay out of my life? He’s like a reoccurring nightmare that won’t give me a rest.” She sighed. “And why do I always let him in when he drops by? I should just slam the damn door in his face. That’s where I’m an idiot. I never learn.” Jemma plopped herself on the kitchen barstool.
“Well, I hope you’re not planning to off him because he’ll come haunting me instead of you.” I shuddered at the thought. Colin wouldn’t be a ghost I’d want to play charades with.
“Now there’s a thought.” She chuckled.
“Glad to see that my cookies are doing the trick.” At least she was back to her snarky self. I liked that Jemma. She wore snarky better than doom and gloom. Although I had to admit, Jemma in drama mode was worth the price of admission. She captivated your attention even with an impromptu performance.
Reese was that way too. Both of my assistants had a knack for entertaining their audience. They were drama queens extraordinaire, but with them it was always in a hilarious way, never irritating. At least to me, anyway. I guess because with them, it seemed more of an act than grandstanding self-indulgence.
“So what did ex-y say he needed the money for?” Just curious, as always.
“I didn’t even ask because I didn’t care. There’s no way I’d give that man a single penny.”
“Have another cookie,” I said.
“What is wrong with him? He crawls under my skin like the shingles. I often wonder what drug I was on to have ever loved the guy. Was I that big an idiot?” She shook her head, then shrugged.
“Things could’ve been worse. Just be glad he never posted nude photos of you on the Internet.” That would be horrific. Even though I trusted Blaine, I still wouldn’t ever let him take photos of me in the nude. I’m sure all those women who let their lovers do that, then been hit with the shock of their lives after their break-up, didn’t think they’d live to regret it.
She dropped her lower jaw and stared at me. “Oh my god, if he ever did that I’d murder him in the most gruesome way possible. Seriously.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t wanna be getting the heebie-jeebies when seeing his ghost, so don’t even go there.”
We laughed.
“Anyway, I just needed to vent, and I knew you’d find a way to help me feel better.”
“It was the cookies. You’re lucky I had some.”
“Well, now I can’t stop.” She bit into a Lilikoi Crunch cookie now. “If my thighs grow
an inch, I’ll be murdering you next.”
“Speaking of murder...” I filled Jemma in on the Min case.
“Talk about dysfunctional family,” she said. “I bet the assistant did it. He was screwing her over in more ways than one. Not that she didn’t deserve it for being involved with the guy, but still. Nobody wants to be second to anybody else.”
There she goes with the second-fiddle thing again. Jemma’s pet peeve. Too funny. But I do agree, if your love isn’t treating you as though you’re the most important person in their life, you’d have to question just how much they really love you.
Not that I’d take a mallet to their noggin for not picking me as their number one choice, but I’d certainly be out of their hot tub in search of a healthier spa. One where the love and respect was mutual. And certainly not with a man who had to hide his wedding band.
Sneaking around, making sure nobody suspected wouldn’t even be the worst of it. I loved candlelight dinners, and the constant whiplash, hoping nobody either of us knew was dining there too, would get old real fast. That was no way to live. Paranoia wasn’t a dessert I’d serve on my menu.
“Who do you think did it?” Jemma asked me.
“Gosh, at this point, from what we know, it could be anybody. Pako and I are going to interview them again.” This time I grabbed a cookie. Just helping out so she didn’t put on all the calories by herself.
“Hey, maybe you should open up a private detective agency and Reese and I can be your crime-fighting assistants. We’d make good snoops,” Jemma said. Glad to see she’d forgotten all about her ex and was on her way back to her usual spunky self.
“Oh yeah, right, and have to rescue the both of you every time you got into trouble, or most likely kidnapped, by the perps? No thanks,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, we’d probably be running around like chickens without heads. Especially Reese. He-he.”
“I’m glad you said it. I was trying to be nice.” I grinned.
“You, nice? Let me pinch myself to make sure I didn’t just dream what you said.” She held up a finger. “Wait, I should rephrase; have a nightmare, more like it.”
I gave her my most maniacal facial expression, but without practicing it in the mirror first, not sure it didn’t come out looking more like I had constipation. The way Jemma laughed, I think the latter might’ve been the one. Oh well.
Jemma glanced at her wristwatch. “Oh gosh, I’d better go.”
I walked her to the door. “You okay now?” I asked as we stood by the entryway.
“I am. Thanks for always being there for me,” she said, giving me a hug.
“It’s mutual. You’ve come through for me many, many times.” And that was so true. Jemma’s an ‘I’m there’ kinda person.
“But not in this way. You never open up to me about your troubles. I wish you’d let me be there for you in that way too.” Her lips curved a frown.
That was true too. I never blathered out my problems to either her or Reese. Not that I didn’t trust them, because I did; they were awesome friends, but it was just something with me.
Not that I had a lot of troubles to talk about anyway, but even so, I didn’t care to discuss them with other people. Blaine was my go-to person when I needed to vent. Maybe I just didn’t want my friends to think I had any problems. Like my life was always peachy. You know?
But then, that’s just a ‘looking good’ thing—a façade and being disingenuous. Blaine once told me that people like to feel that they’re helping you, that they can make a difference. It makes them feel good inside. Of course I know he’s right about that. Just now I had a mama-bear dose of satisfaction with being there for Jemma. It always felt good to help people. Hmm. The next time I have a problem, maybe I’ll share it with her. But if she gave me any cockamamie advice...
As I closed the door behind her, my thoughts went to her suggestion about a detective agency. That did sound cool and might be a worthwhile endeavor. But then visions of the Keystone Cops flashed through my mind, and uh-huh, okay, forget that fantasy.
Yup, I think I’ll just stick to taggin’ along with Pako for now. Ha!
:: Chapter 14 ::
The meeting with the Mins wasn’t to include Helen or Ken today. It was just the family.
“There have been some new developments from our inquiries, and we need a few more answers to questions we have,” Pako told the group.
Today we congregated on the dining room table with Pako and me on one side, Nolan at the head, and Elaine and Lance across from us.
“We’ll answer whatever we can,” Elaine said. She glanced at Nolan and her son before returning her gaze on Pako.
Detective Anzo turned his attention to Nolan Min. “Do you recall the total number of pufferfish you’ve caught for your brother’s aquarium collection?”
“I’ve caught two. A spotted and a stripebelly.” He made no pause before his answer, so he didn’t need to ponder the question.
“We saw the spotted pufferfish in the large tank, but the stripebelly wasn’t in there.” Pako had a printout of the photo this time, so he set it out on the table in front of Nolan. “Was it in there before?”
Nolan gazed at the photo.
“Yes,” he said.
“Why didn’t you tell us about it that day when I asked you if there was a fish missing from the tank?” Pako grilled him.
“Well, technically it wasn’t missing. I had noticed it wasn’t in the tank two weeks before Tony’s death. When you asked me if anything was missing the first time, I couldn’t say ‘yes’ because technically the fish had been gone for a while, while Tony was still alive. I assumed you meant if a fish was missing since after his death.”
Actually, that did make sense. Anybody would have assumed the same. I probably would have.
“Do you know what happened to it?” Pako asked.
“No. I didn’t question Tony about it. I figured he’d given it away or it died.”
That stripebelly pufferfish must’ve been the poison that caused Tony’s death. Now the question was...who got hold of it? Since Maile pointed us to the missing fish, it hadn’t died while in Tony’s care, which would’ve caused him to toss it out. Unless when he disposed of it somebody took it from the trash and froze it until they could use it.
Or the other possibility...did he give it away to someone? Nolan said he noticed it was gone two weeks prior, so Tony had to know it was gone. Somebody couldn’t have just stolen it without him making a fuss about it. The entire household would’ve heard about it if he had.
Elaine shuffled in her seat. “I overheard Tony talking to somebody on the phone when I passed by his office one day. He was mentioning the pufferfish and about giving it to them,” she said. “I didn’t hear much more since I didn’t stop to listen in.”
Okay, that solved that mystery. He gave it away. Unless she’s lying to save her own butt. Although, unless Elaine hid the fish, whether dead or alive, it would have to probably be somewhere in this house. Hmm, chances that it had been still alive were slim because she’d have to have her own aquarium tank to keep it in. Doubt she has one. It would be hard to hide.
So now, if the fish were dead, then she’d have to freeze it because it would stink up the fridge to have it sit there for two weeks. In either case, I couldn’t see her risk having someone else find it—possibly her son—then cook and eat the pufferfish, not knowing what it was, thus getting poisoned. That there probably ruled Elaine out.
Unless...
She was in cahoots with Nolan and he hid the fish at his house.
“Why all this interest on the pufferfish?” Lance asked. “Do you believe that my father ate it and that’s how he died?”
“It’s a possibility we’re looking into,” Pako replied.
“He wouldn’t knowingly eat a pufferfish,” Nolan said.
“He probably didn’t know he’d eaten it.”
After Pako had said that, I glanced at the Min family’s faces to see how they reacted
to it. Nobody had sweat running down their face, a twitching eye, or whatever nervous tic as of yet. If any of them were guilty, they hid it well.
Elaine’s eyes went wide as though she had been sitting in the dark and just found the light switch.
“Are you implying that whoever Tony gave the pufferfish to...poisoned him? That meant they had to put it in his food that day. I heated up the leftover fish stew and put it in his soup thermos. Are you saying somebody added the pufferfish after that?”
“We’re looking into that, yes.”
“If Tony did give the pufferfish to somebody, that means that person is the murderer?” Elaine’s voice went a pitch higher on that last bit. “Could it have been just a case of food poisoning by accident and not by anybody’s hand? Maybe the fish stew got spoiled.”
Elaine’s hands were clenched together as they rested on the table. Nolan put his hand on hers.
Before Pako could answer her, the son spoke.
“Yeah, maybe the fish stew went bad.”
“Unless your dad had an allergy that would cause him to go into the state he did, a case of food poisoning normally wouldn’t have worked that fast in killing him. He would’ve felt sick but had time to get medical attention. Since you and your mother confirmed he had no allergies, the original fish stew itself probably didn’t cause his death.”
Yup, Pako was right about that.
“I’ve often heard my dad and Helen arguing. I think she was jealous that he still loved my mom.”
Wow, that came out of nowhere.
“Your dad didn’t love me, Lance,” Elaine said matter-of-factly.
“I think he did, Mom. Why didn’t he just divorce you and marry Helen then?” Lance’s eyes glared with his words. “I think Helen hated Dad in the end because she felt scorned.”
Elaine responded to her son with a gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder.
“I think Helen had good reason to want to kill my father,” Lance said, directing his eyes at Pako.
Seemed the son wanted to implicate the scorned lover.
“I guess I should mention this, now that I think about it...as I was about to go outside to wait for Lance, I saw Helen going into the kitchen carrying a gift bag. Normally, she brings whole tilapia in a large foil pan. That wouldn’t have fit in the bag. And there wasn’t anything in the fridge or left on the counter the next day, so whatever was in that bag wasn’t left behind.”