Fortune Cookie (Culinary Mystery) (13 page)

“My children are my greatest blessings,” Ji said, inclining his head slightly.

“Did Min graduate from high school early? You said she’s in her second year of college?”

“She turned twenty years old in March.”

“Oh, she looks so much younger than that,” Sadie said, surprised. “And she’s still living at home?”

“Of course,” he said with a sharp tone. “She needs to focus on her education. She’ll leave our home when she is fully prepared to run her own.”

Sadie was reminded that Chinese culture was different from what she was used to. It wasn’t all that unusual for a college student to live at home, but she was just surprised at the fervor of Ji’s explanation; her impression was that Min’s dependence was his choice rather than hers. “You’re obviously a good husband and father.”

“I try to be,” he said with a humble nod.

“And a talented artist.” His expression became instantly uncomfortable, and he looked at the floor, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Did you do the sculpting on the wall of your restaurant?”

He shrugged. “Many years ago, but I am a business owner now. There’s no time for hobbies anymore. The boxes still for sale in the restaurant are the last of them.”

“A hobby?” Sadie repeated. “The level of skill on that wall and on your jewelry boxes speaks of more than a hobby. Have you ever thought of pursuing art commercially?”

Ji glanced at her quickly, but Sadie couldn’t read his expression. “It’s not a practical industry. I went to school for a few years, but the restaurant needed more attention, and I realized it’s just as well. The restaurant is successful only when it is managed correctly and, as Lin Yang’s father’s health declined, the responsibility came to me. I won’t dishonor his efforts by not being as focused as he was for all the years he owned it. I work seven days a week to ensure its success and, therefore, my family’s well-being.”

Sadie raised her eyebrows. “Seven days a week?”

Ji nodded at the same time Pete came through the apartment door, which he’d left ajar when he’d taken out the trash . . . several minutes ago. Sadie hadn’t thought until now about how long he’d been gone. Before she had a chance to ask, he answered her unasked questions.

“I met the woman from downstairs.” He closed the door behind him. “Her name is Shasta, and she has a pink poodle.”

“A pink poodle?” Ji repeated, his eyebrows lifted.

Pete explained that the neighbor had been dressed in a pink jogging suit and had a pink poodle on a rhinestone-studded leash. Near the Dumpsters behind the building was a strip of “pet grass” as Shasta had called it, though she had assured Pete that she paid a child from the neighboring building to clean up after her dog’s “business.”

Shasta had been appalled that something so tragic as Wendy’s death could happen in the building, but her phone had rung before Pete could ask her more about her relationship with Wendy or her experience with the fire.

“I’d like to put together some questions to ask her later,” he said. “I know the police talked to her already, but I’d love to get her account firsthand. She seemed talkative and would no doubt be entertaining.”

“She sounds fascinating,” Sadie said, wishing she’d been there to meet her, but not at the expense of the conversation she’d just shared with Ji. She felt such relief at having had the chance to become better acquainted with him and dared to think they might be able to create a positive relationship after all.

Sadie had cleared out the TV stand while she and Ji talked. There were a few DVDs for old black-and-white movies, the instruction manual for the TV and the DVD player, and some other magazines Sadie set aside. She brushed the dust off her hands when she finished.

A chime sounded from Ji’s cell phone. “I need to get back to the restaurant,” he said after checking the text message. “The dinner rush will be starting soon. How much longer will you be here?”

Pete turned toward Sadie. “Do you want to stay longer?”

Sadie looked around and shook her head. They’d been there for several hours, and she was both tired and impressed with how much they’d done. The bedroom and kitchen were completely packed up, and she’d made good progress on both the living room and the office. Besides, she planned to go through the file boxes once they got back to the hotel so she still had work to do; she just didn’t have to do it here. Pete and Ji each carried a box to the street.

“Oh, Ji,” Sadie said, twisting her purse so it hung in front of her. “I had meant to give these to you. They were in the jewelry box the police returned.”

She kept her feelings about the pieces to herself as she removed her mother’s jewelry from her purse and held them out to Ji. He took them but seemed confused.

“They’re part of Wendy’s estate,” Sadie explained. “As is the jewelry box and everything in it. We should have grabbed it so you could take it home with you.”

Ji looked at her with an inquisitive set to his brow. “Why did you separate these items from the others?”

“Well,” Sadie said, looking at the items in Ji’s hand, “they had belonged to my mother, but they’re yours now. Your daughters and your wife would probably—”

Ji closed his fingers around the items, turned his hand over and reached toward her, shaking his head. “I don’t want these.”

“But they’re yours,” Sadie said, not taking them right away but very much wanting to.

“They’re yours,” Ji said, shaking his hand slightly. “I told you, I want nothing from my mother. Please take these, and take the box with everything else. I don’t want it.”

“You’re sure?” Sadie said.

Ji seemed on the edge of getting angry and nodded sharply.

“Take them,” Pete said quietly.

Sadie opened her hand and looked at the ring, brooch, necklace, and the single earring sparkling back at her, a warm sense of satisfaction coursing through her chest. She appreciated his generosity, even if that wasn’t his intent. “Thank you,” she said. “I think my daughter would love that jewelry box.”

“Good,” Ji said sharply, then looked at his watch. “I really need to go.”

They parted ways with Ji amid handshakes and promises to see each other around 9:00 the next morning. Sadie waited on the curb with the file boxes while Pete went to get the car. She wanted to go get Wendy’s jewelry box right that minute, but she couldn’t leave the boxes unattended, and there wouldn’t be time for her to run up once Pete pulled up to the curb—traffic was unreal and barely moving. She left the task for tomorrow and simply made good use of her people-watching skills. One homeless-looking man muttered to himself about rebels, and a young woman with green hair walked three large dogs who barked and nipped at each other but ignored the press of people around them. Sadie wondered if Wendy had known any of the people Sadie now watched.

Pete pulled to the curb and quickly put the boxes in the trunk of the car while Sadie got into the passenger seat. After Pete got back into the driver’s seat, they fastened their seat belts. Pete looked behind him before quickly pulling into traffic; there was no place for meek driving in this city.

“How did things go with Ji while I was taking out the trash?” Pete asked after a minute of silence. “The two of you seemed to be on better terms when I came back up.”

Sadie nodded, reliving the relief she’d felt at having cleared the air between them. “He apologized and we talked a little more. He doesn’t seem so angry with me and my family, and I learned a lot about him. I think we made some progress.”

“I’m really glad,” Pete said, slowing down for a cable car to cross in front of them. Tourists hung off the edges, and a teenage girl had her arm extended to take a picture of herself.

“The two of you seemed to get along really well,” Sadie said, remembering the pang of jealousy she’d felt when she’d heard the two of them laughing together. “What were you guys talking about?”

Pete chuckled. “I told him about this situation Pat and I had in Chinatown several years ago involving a cart of squash and these little kids and . . . Anyway, he knew the guy who owned that cart.” Pete smiled, obviously remembering the incident fondly. “I guess he sets up that scenario when business is slow. Pat and I totally fell for it. We ended up buying a bag of squash and a whole pack of postcards by the time we left, feeling terrible about the trouble we thought we’d caused with that cart.”

Sadie felt another wave of jealously, but this one was toward Pat. She made a bland comment, and they drove in silence for several seconds. Sadie worried Pete suspected the reason for her sudden quiet and so she searched for another topic. Not for the first time, it was food that saved her.

“Did you know that chicken tetrazzini was invented right here in San Francisco?” Sadie made a really great chicken tetrazzini, but hadn’t known until only five or six years ago that it was invented in the city where her sister lived.

“I didn’t know that, but I’m not the least bit surprised that you do.”

Sadie, optimistic at the change of mood her talk of food had inspired, was preparing her next bit of trivia when Pete’s phone rang. She hurried to grab the earpiece of his Bluetooth device from the middle console and hand it to him. Talking on a cell phone while driving in California was illegal, and if the cops here were as dedicated to that law as the cops in Oregon had been when Sadie visited, she didn’t want to take any chances.

Pete put the Bluetooth over his ear and pushed the button on his phone to answer the call. Luckily traffic was basically at a standstill so the maneuvering didn’t throw off his driving. “This is Pete Cunningham. . . . Hi, Stan, how are you?”

Sadie perked up. Stan Harlesden was the realtor handling the sales of their homes.

“Oh, wow, that’s great. . . . Uh-huh . . . right . . . I agree. . . . We’ll talk about it tonight. Can we have forty-eight hours to decide? . . . Great. . . . Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

Pete said good-bye and reached for the button on his earpiece that would end the call. Sadie was so excited about what she’d ascertained from his side of the conversation that it took her a few moments to realize that Pete’s expression wasn’t reflecting the same exuberance. At best his expression could be described as blank, at worst it was disappointed.

“Aren’t you excited?” she asked after giving him ample time to explain himself without her prodding.

“Yeah,” Pete said, giving her a fake smile before looking ahead again.

“Tell me about the offer. How much?”

“Full price, but they want me to pay the closing costs.” He spoke flatly despite it being a full-price offer, which was better than they’d hoped for. They’d both listed their homes higher than they’d be willing to sell for, in order to get a feel for the market. Sadie had listened to his tone as much as his words, though, and heard something very different from what he was saying out loud.

“You don’t seem excited,” Sadie said.

“No, I am. It’s just so . . . fast, I guess.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes, of course it is.” He still sounded flat. “We’ve got two days to accept or counter or whatever, so there’s no rush. Let’s think about it but not let it distract us too much.”

“Sure.” Inside, however, Sadie was concerned by Pete’s lack of enthusiasm. When they’d listed their homes on the same day, with the same realtor, they’d been excited at the step they were making toward sharing their lives. It had been a promise of sorts, a representation of the commitment they were making and the exciting changes ahead. If Sadie hadn’t been there that day, feeling those feelings right alongside him, the heavy expression on Pete’s face right now would make her question it had ever happened.

They drove in relative silence for another minute, being passed by multiple bicyclists who were making far better time than they were.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Pete said, a false lightness in his voice. “They have some of the best restaurants I’ve ever eaten at in this city.”

“Oh, good,” Sadie said with equally false enthusiasm as she tried not to obsess about his change in mood. “I’m ready to be wowed.”

“Maybe we can find some chicken tetrazzini?” Pete suggested, giving her a more natural smile this time.

Sadie decided to fully embrace his attempts at changing the subject and the mood. “Well, as I was saying, chicken tetrazzini was named after an opera singer who loved to come and perform in San Francisco in the early 1900s. A chef at the Palace Hotel created the dish in her honor. I wonder if it’s still on the menu?” She turned to him, feeling her excitement rise. “Could we go there for dinner? I’ve heard great things about that hotel.”

“Sure,” Pete said—flat,
again.
No excitement at all—not even the fake kind. “Whatever you want.”

Sadie looked at him another moment, then faced forward. Why the sudden shift in mood again? Had she said something wrong, or was Sadie just paranoid now?

Chapter 12

Pete and Sadie decided to check into their hotel before dinner, unload the boxes from the car, and grab jackets. Though the day had been warm enough, it was decidedly cool by the time they reached the hotel. Sadie was glad she’d checked the forecast before she’d come, otherwise she’d have never guessed it would get this cold.