Dim Sum of All Fears

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Dim Sum of All Fears Page 9

by Vivien Chien


  “Do you think you can meet with your attorney soon? I was hoping to have this whole thing straightened out before I head back home.”

  He sucked in his cheeks, and his chest puffed underneath his expensive suit. “We actually have a meeting set up for next week … we have another matter to discuss. I’m afraid we can’t schedule anything with them any sooner.”

  “Oh, how unfortunate, I’ll be gone by then. I suppose I can make another trip out this way after the New Year.”

  Ian shifted in the booth. I hadn’t seen Ian squirm this much since his bomb of a speech at Mr. Feng’s memorial. His foot tapped mine under the table. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your intentions with the property?”

  “I’d like to liquidate everything within the store and put this whole thing behind me. I’m not interested in keeping it. My life is in New York. Besides, the souvenir idea was Brandon’s thing. It wouldn’t feel right to continue it without him.”

  “I see.” Ian gave me a sideways glance.

  “I still can’t believe what’s happened.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of trouble he could have been in that would bring this tragedy into their lives. And to be staged that way … sounds like organized crime to me, don’t you think? I just keep thinking … it could have been me in there.”

  My mouthed dropped. Did she really just say that?

  Ian cleared his throat. “Yes, we were all taken aback by this.”

  She slipped her hand back in her purse and produced a card. “Please contact me once your lawyer has reviewed these documents. I’ll be driving back to New York after the funeral for a couple of days to handle some business. But I can make arrangements to come back once everything is straightened out.”

  We said our pleasantries and excused ourselves from the table while she waited for her lunch. Ian asked me to follow him out into the plaza, and I gave Nancy a heads-up that I was stepping out.

  When we were out of the restaurant, he turned to me, a frown on his face. “Lana, something is not right with this whole picture.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “I got that feeling right after she told me who she was.”

  “After meeting these two ex-wives, and knowing Isabelle, I am almost positive that we’re being duped.”

  “Duped?”

  “I don’t think the first Mrs. Yeoh is who she says she is.”

  I cocked my head at him. Okay, I hadn’t expected him to take it that direction. “You think she’s a fake? But Trudeau said Brandon’s parents told them about Constance.”

  He held up a finger. “Ah, but he said that his parents told him about an ex-wife, but there was nothing specific about who she was. Just that an ex-wife was the executor of the estate and that her name was Constance. But do we know what she really looks like? It can’t possibly be the woman we met. It just can’t be. Look at these three women. Marcia reminds you of Isabelle, doesn’t she?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He held out a hand, palm up. “You have one woman who is completely heartless and her only concern is taking over the property. She couldn’t care less about anything else that’s going on. She can’t be bothered. Even if they had a bad marriage, Brandon is still a human being, and she doesn’t seem the least bit affected by his death.”

  Holding up his other hand, palm up, he raised it a little higher than the other. “Then you have this other woman, who is gentle, pleasant, and civilized, who is clearly devastated. All she wants is to wrap up this ugly business and move on with her life so she can begin her healing process.”

  “That’s what you took from our meeting?”

  “And furthermore,” Ian said, ignoring my question, “I can’t imagine Brandon being married to that tyrant … no, Constance Yeoh is definitely the odd woman out.”

  “So you think that Constance Yeoh is a real person, just not the person we met?”

  “Exactly! Now we just have to figure out how to prove it.”

  Ian resolved this without asking my opinion. He walked away, leaving me dumbfounded in front of the restaurant. I suppose if he’d asked for my thoughts, I couldn’t have told him anyway. I didn’t know if his theories were right or wrong, but one thing was for sure: There was way more to this story than any of us knew.

  CHAPTER

  11

  “So wait, let me get this straight,” Megan said as she wiped down the bar. “The first wife has a will that says she’s in charge of this guy’s stuff, and the second wife has an agreement that says if he can’t take care of the store, it goes to her?”

  I nodded. “You got it.”

  After work, I stopped by the Zodiac, Megan’s long-standing place of employment, to fill her in on the latest drama at the plaza. Besides, having a drink after the day I’d had couldn’t hurt.

  The Zodiac, known for its astrological wall art, had been our stomping ground since our college days. Shortly after we graduated, Megan started bartending in the hope of someday managing the place.

  “But doesn’t one agreement trump the other?” she asked.

  “I don’t know how these legal things work. You know that. That’s Anna May’s specialty.”

  “Can’t you ask her or something?”

  “Yeah right, she wants nothing to do with this whole thing. She said it’s none of our business. Every time I bring it up, she gives me a lecture. I didn’t even bother telling her about the conversation. Plus, I’m still mad at her for telling our parents about what happened.”

  She shook her head in reply. “This is nuts. Who knew Brandon had all this baggage? As if one ex-wife wasn’t enough, now there are two! What if there’s more? There could be a whole slew of women out there!”

  “What’s worse is that Ian thinks the woman who showed up as Brandon’s first ex-wife is a fraud.”

  “A fraud?” Megan threw the bar towel under the counter and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Who would she be then?”

  I shrugged. “Someone who wants to take over the property? Or the murderer?”

  A husky voice from behind me said, “I didn’t hear you say ‘murderer,’ did I?”

  Jumping, I spun in my seat to look behind me.

  Adam stared back at me, his green eyes sparkling with subtle amusement at my shock.

  My heart thudded in my chest. “Do you always sneak up on people this way?”

  His lips curved into a tiny smile as he sat down on the stool next to me. “Only you.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Not happy to see me?” He nudged me with his elbow.

  “Of course I am. Just surprised is all.”

  He lifted his shoulders. “I saw your car in the parking lot, and figured I’d stop in and say hi. We’ve barely gotten a chance to see each other these past few weeks.”

  Megan returned with an open beer bottle and placed it in front of him. “You better watch it, Lana. You have a detective stalking your every move.”

  Adam sighed. “Twisting my intentions around again, I see.”

  Megan held up her hands in defense. “I just call ’em how I see ’em.” She winked at me before walking away to tend to the other customers.

  He took a sip of beer and then swiveled in his stool to face me. “Seriously, you mentioned a murderer. What’s that all about?”

  Despite my better judgment, I told him the story about the second Mrs. Yeoh showing up at Ho-Lee Noodle House and her meeting with Ian that I was forced to attend. I went through the details of the story she’d told us with the borrowed money and the conversation that Ian and I had outside of the restaurant about the first Mrs. Yeoh.

  “That guy bugs me,” was his only response.

  I gawked at him. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “Well, he can’t help himself, can he? He has to drag you around with him all the time.”

  “Do I sense a little bit of jealousy?”

  He snorted. “Hardly. It’s just an observation.”

  “Uh-huh.”

 
; “And on top of that, he has to put these ridiculous ideas in your head. Constance Yeoh is not a murderer,” he said, tipping his beer bottle toward me. “And she’s not a fraud, either. You need to stay out of it. Both of you,” he added, giving Megan a glance. “Don’t let Ian drag you down his rabbit hole. He’s making up problems that don’t need to be there.”

  “But what about this other woman?”

  “Brandon’s parents told me he was briefly married to someone else, but she wasn’t anyone crucial in his life. We’re still digging into his background. You need to relax, we’ve got things under control.”

  “I’m just speculating,” I said, waving away his concern.

  Adam frowned at me. “That’s what got you into trouble last time. Stay out of this, okay?”

  “Fine, whatever.” I skulked into my drink. “I won’t speculate.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that, Miss Lee,” he said, lightening his tone. “I’m also going to hold you to something else.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah … have dinner with me.”

  I perked up. “Oh? When were you thinking?”

  “How about next Friday? After everything is said and done with the funeral services and you’ve had a few days to recoup, of course.”

  I smiled. “I think I’d like that very much.”

  That night, I went home with lifted spirits for the first time in days. It had been a while since Adam had asked me out. My calculations totaled at a little over two weeks … not that I was counting. Even though he had agreed to the double date, it wasn’t the same.

  Regardless of everything else going on, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of happiness soak through. I only wished that Isabelle were around to tell.

  In a mixture of emotions, Kikko and I stood in front of my closet skimming the row of color-coordinated clothing that hung before us. My closet was organized in a rainbow format. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but it made one thing abundantly clear to me. I owned more black clothes than anything else.

  That made picking out something for the funeral pretty easy.

  I rifled through my options, holding things up in the mirror, trying to find something that was respectable and warm. Dressing up for formal events in Cleveland winters could be a tricky business.

  Studying my reflection, I began to regret my decision to streak my hair with such a bright and unnatural color. Then again, I hadn’t known I’d need to attend a funeral.

  While I was debating over black or gray dress pants, my cell phone rang, and another long string of numbers appeared on the screen. This time it was my dad.

  “Hey, Goober! Just calling to check in on you. Your mother told me about the whole business with the Yeohs next door. I’m so sorry. I know this must be hard for you. How are you holding up?”

  “Yeah, it’s such a shame. I was just getting to know Isabelle,” I said, the sadness creeping back in. “I’m doing okay, though … the best I can be right now.”

  “They were too young,” my dad replied. “I can’t imagine what their parents must be going through.”

  “It has to be terrible,” I agreed. “Especially with how it happened.”

  “That reminds me…” my dad started.

  “Reminds you of what?”

  “I had a feeling you would think this whole thing was strange. And I called to tell you to put away any Nancy Drew fantasies you may be having.”

  I sighed. “Why does everybody assume that I’m going to get involved? You sound just like Adam.”

  “Because you’re my daughter, and I know how you think,” my dad replied. “Adam? Who’s Adam?”

  “You know Adam, Dad. Detective Trudeau.”

  “Is this your new cop boyfriend your mom was telling me about? The one you were going on about at dim sum?”

  “Dad … come on.” Even at this age, it was still weird to talk to my dad about dating. “And I wasn’t going on about him at dim sum.”

  “Okay, sorry.” My dad paused. “But is he?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I said, a little too firm. “We’re only going on our fourth date.”

  “You’re going on a fourth date with this man?”

  Trying not to sound annoyed, I gave him my most level and adult, “Yes, Dad.”

  “Wonderful,” my dad said. “Your mother is going to be so happy. When we get home you’ll have to officially introduce us. You can’t start dating this guy without introducing him to your old man. I have to check him out and make sure he isn’t some kind of weirdo.”

  Without giving me a chance to object, my dad moved on to the details of their trip thus far. He went on for a little bit about my grandmother and told me that her mood had improved since they’d first gotten there. I guess she’d only thrown a few fits since their arrival, which was an improvement according to my uncle. I didn’t understand what was going on with her, but I hoped that my parents being there would help alleviate the situation. We hung up after he made me promise to mind my own business.

  Even though I was happy to hear from him, my father’s call had dampened my mood, leaving me both sad and grumpy. I looked down at Kikko, who’d brought her stuffed duck to entertain herself. “Why does everyone naturally assume I’m going to get involved in this? I mean, they act like I can’t help myself.”

  Ignoring my complaint, Kikko licked the duck’s head and then gave it a good chomp.

  I flopped backward on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Kikko hopped up on the bed with her duck, plopping it on my chest. “I am perfectly capable of minding my own business,” I said, throwing her stuffed animal across the room. “I’m just not going to.”

  CHAPTER

  12

  I’m not ashamed to say that I spent the weekend moping and contemplating everything that had taken place since the beginning of the week. It was a lot to process.

  Anna May was in charge of the restaurant all weekend, and I was relieved to have some time away. Keeping it together all week had worn me out more than I realized.

  In an attempt to relieve some of my stress, I prepped the bathroom to be painted with the new color that Megan had picked out. Making sure the painter’s tape was straight against the trim and tiles kept me preoccupied for a good part of Saturday afternoon, but after I was done, I found myself staring at the carpet with the same thoughts swirling around in my head.

  I busied myself for a little while updating my notebook with the appearance of Marcia Yeoh and her involvement in the souvenir shop. If Brandon had borrowed money from her and the store wasn’t doing so well, maybe he was going to the casino to win money to pay her back. But where was he getting the extra money to go the casino to begin with? And did Isabelle know any of this?

  Even though Ian thought she was innocent, I didn’t buy it totally. We’d just met her and I guaranteed her looks got her out of a lot of trouble. I added her to my suspect list.

  Megan had to work most of the weekend and tried convincing me that I should loiter at the bar to keep her company. But really, I didn’t feel like being around people or putting on a fake smile. Instead, I found myself going deep into a Gilmore Girls marathon. Nothing like a little fictional drama to take you away from the real stuff.

  I stayed up late, letting the lives of Stars Hollow citizens remove me from my reality. And because of it, I slept away half of Sunday without giving it much effort. When I finally woke up, I drank a pot’s worth of coffee and started painting the bathroom. And that was my total contribution to Sunday.

  On Monday morning, we opened the restaurant for a few hours, closing the doors at noon along with the rest of the plaza. The first set of calling hours started at three o’clock. Anna May decided we should go together instead of meeting up, so she picked me up half an hour before we had to be there.

  I’d spent a lot of time fidgeting with my clothes. I hated funerals, wakes, and anything that had to do with death.

  The funeral home was an exquisite building made of light brick
with white awnings and white matching pillars. We parked in the rear lot and made our way up the wooden ramp to the back entrance where a funeral home attendant in a black suit and tie stood waiting to direct visitors to their appropriate rooms. With a solemn expression, he gestured to his right where a door was propped open. Muted sounds of chatter could be heard from the lobby.

  My sister and I gave polite nods as we walked by, heading toward the viewing room. It was a tranquil space with midnight-blue carpeting swirled with light-blue patterns that resembled flowers. The walls were cream-colored with little speckles of dark brown accented by oak trim, complementing a carved wood ceiling. It reminded me of a boat turned upside down.

  Folding chairs filled the room, and an aisle split them into two sides. Quite a few people had already shown up, and they milled around in various clumps talking in soft voices. I spotted a group of Asia Village shop owners off to the side. Those sitting closest to the door turned as we walked in.

  “There’s Peter and Kimmy,” my sister said, jerking a chin toward our left. “Let’s go say hi.”

  As we greeted the two, my eyes sneaked a peek toward the front where two caskets were positioned side by side. I had heard through the plaza grapevine that after the news of Brandon’s innocence had been released, his parents had offered to foot the bill for the entire ceremony. Apparently, Isabelle’s parents didn’t have a lot of money and could barely afford the casket.

  They were set to be buried together. I had never been to a double funeral before, and my mind wandered places I didn’t want it to go.

  The Mahjong Matrons had weighed in on the subject earlier in the morning, claiming that the Yeoh family had done this to atone for the guilty feelings they had. Regardless of Brandon’s innocence, there were some who felt that Brandon had brought the tragedy upon them.

  With the little I knew about Brandon, it was hard for me to say either way. All I could say for sure was that I didn’t like him and he was up to something. But did that “up to something” directly result in what had happened? Time would tell.

  Kimmy noticed the expression on my face. “You want to get some water or something?”

 

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