Fortune Cookie (Culinary Mystery) (25 page)

“Upset as in angry?” Sadie dropped her hand but kept looking at him.

“No,” Pete said, shaking his head. “Just . . . sad, I guess. She understands why I’m selling it, but her mother took her final breaths in that house and then . . .” He glanced past Sadie into the office, and she put two and two together.

“And then I commented on boxing up someone’s life.” If they accepted the offer on Pete’s house, everything left of Pat’s life would be packed up and stored, or given or thrown away.

Pete glanced at Sadie, then at the floor as he pushed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know why this is getting so hard now.”

“For Brooke or for you?” Sadie tried not to let her hurt feelings show in her tone. She understood why he felt this way—she really did—but she hated it. She wanted to think about the future—
their
future—and he continued to get into the past—
his
past.

He didn’t answer her right away, but she waited him out. “Things are changing,” he said, as though it were that simple.

“In big ways,” she added. When he didn’t comment, she pushed forward, watching him closely as she spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He gave her a questioning look. “Is this really something we can discuss?”

Sadie thought about that and, though she wanted to say yes, was she really prepared to talk to him about his dead wife, about how much he missed her, and how conflicted he was feeling about moving on with his life in a way he never imagined?

He’d told Sadie before that he’d had no expectation of dating or marrying again after Pat died; he was almost sixty years old at the time and could not imagine a life with anyone but her. Sadie was the first and only woman he’d felt attracted to or connected to since Pat’s death, and he was surprised by how natural and right everything had felt between them. Up until this trip, that was the singular impression Sadie had of Pete’s thoughts on the matter: he hadn’t expected to love again and was happy to have been wrong.

But now they were in this city and someone wanted to buy the last home he’d shared with Pat. Sadie couldn’t lie—to Pete or to herself—about the fact that this was uncomfortable or that she might even feel threatened, as much as she hated the idea that she could be. Pete needed a friend, he needed to talk things out, and though she wanted to be everything for him—could she be? Could she handle it?

They held each other’s gaze, and Sadie saw the growing look of disappointed understanding take over Pete’s expression. Though she’d said nothing out loud, just as he’d tried to keep his thoughts to himself, both of their internal processes were loud enough for the other to hear. He was struggling with memories of his wife. Sadie was unprepared to help him deal with them. They found themselves at a proverbial impasse that brought with it a river’s worth of insecurity and a thimble’s worth of resolution.

The intercom buzzed; Sadie was the first to break eye contact and accept the fortuitous change of topic. She lightened her tone as further indication that they were talking about something new as she moved toward the intercom. “That must be Ji’s friend. His name is Shots, can you believe that?” She said hello through the speaker.

It was indeed the Chinese share house that would clear out the last of Wendy’s things. She buzzed them in, then turned back to Pete, who, she could tell, was trying to find an explanation that would make her feel better about what he’d just admitted. She wasn’t sure which of them she was rescuing by not allowing him to attempt it. “Will you help me move the boxes I want to keep into the office?”

Pete looked at her, regret in his eyes, but finally turned away and looked at the boxes still by the window. “Sure.”

Sadie was already heading toward the boxes of shoes and photographs. She picked up the top box and turned toward the office. “I’ll label everything so we know what’s what. I have a Sharpie in my purse for just this type of situation.” Pete grabbed another box and followed her into the office, where they put the boxes down on the far end of the room, near the window. Sadie began labeling the top and sides while Pete moved the rest of the boxes and the landscape painting Sadie was still unsure about.

“I’m going to move Mario’s saw out of the way,” Pete said when he finished, leaving Sadie alone with her internal pity party.

Wasn’t it enough that she was clearing out her sister’s apartment? Wasn’t it enough that she had discovered very few positive things about this sister she’d never really known? Was it fair that she had to figure out how to navigate through Pete’s complex feelings, too?

Sadie let herself feel sorry for herself until the boxes were labeled and Shots came in—with perfect English and a playful grin. Three Chinese men of various ages came in behind him. Pete introduced Sadie and himself, pointed out the boxes in the office that the men weren’t supposed to take, and then turned them loose.

As soon as the men had left the apartment for their first trip down, Sadie remembered the nude painting of Wendy. She went into the bedroom and looked at it only long enough to determine how she was going to get it to the Dumpster. She angled the canvas against the dresser and brought her foot down on the inner frame, snapping it in the middle. She snapped the other side, folded the painted sides together, and then carried it down the stairs. She felt bad for having destroyed Wendy’s work, but she didn’t want anyone else to stare at her naked sister. She felt better once it was in the Dumpster and she was on her way back upstairs.

Forty-five minutes later, two of the men carried the last piece of Wendy’s furniture—the desk from the office—from the place Wendy had called home for the last twelve years of her life. Pete and Shots had taken down the headboard as well, and hadn’t come back yet. The small elevator had turned out to be a struggle for some of the larger pieces, but they’d eventually made everything fit.

Mario’s music was playing in the bathroom, reminding Sadie of how soon the remodel would be done. Once the apartment was painted to Shasta’s tastes, Wendy would be entirely removed from this building—not even a nail hole left behind to tell the world she was ever here. Sadie looked around the empty rooms, finding it impossible not to give into the heartache she felt at the completion of this task. Maybe
this
feeling was exactly what Pete was afraid of in regard to selling his house—the emptiness, the proof that someone who once mattered was no longer there. Maybe Sadie understood it better than she thought. Better than she wanted to.

Chapter 21

Sadie heard Pete enter the apartment, and before he said anything, she cut him off. She didn’t want another apology. “You said you read the statement from Mr. Pilings earlier?” she asked.

He paused for a beat before shaking his head. “It wasn’t really a statement, just the notes about the conversation the police had with him when he showed up after the fire and then in a follow-up phone call.”

“Did he say anything about the rental addendum Shasta mentioned?”

Pete shook his head again.

“Someone ought to ask him why he left that out,” Sadie said, then let out a breath and felt her shoulders fall. Her mind moved on to the next unsettled item. “What do we do about Ji’s daughter?”

“I was thinking about that and wondered if we ought to go to his restaurant tonight. His daughters were working yesterday, so maybe they’re there again. We might be able to determine which daughter it was, and then maybe we can figure out how to ask Ji about it. Maybe us being there will coax more information from him. We have to remember that he doesn’t have a lot of reason to trust people associated with his mother.”

Sadie considered that and then nodded. She didn’t want to upset Ji with direct questions unless she was sure, but going to his restaurant for dinner was a good cover for learning a bit more about his daughters. “Maybe talking to him in his own space would make him more comfortable,” she said. Plus, she’d liked the dim sum, and she and Pete had been in a good place—relationship-wise—when they’d eaten there yesterday. “But on the phone he made it sound as though he didn’t really want to see me again.”

“If something happened while you were gone today, there might be an explanation for him giving that impression. I think if we act as though nothing has changed, he’ll go along with it—or perhaps give something away. Plus, we can see if his daughters or his wife accidentally gives us information, as well. I think it’s worth the risk.”

Sadie thought about that. “That makes sense. I can play that up.” She smiled at him, and Pete smiled back, a slightly hesitant and vulnerable look on his face. Sadie thought he was going to say something—
worried
he was going to say something—and so she hurried past him to get her purse from where she’d left it in the office. She put the strap over her head and then looked at the boxes still waiting to be taken to the hotel. She felt her shoulders slump. She wanted to be done.

She heard Pete come into the room behind her. “We need to take these with us,” she said without looking at him. He was so close that she could lean back, just a little, and they would be touching. But she didn’t lean back. She didn’t know if he’d welcome it or what she’d do if he didn’t.

“Why don’t we take them down with the dolly? You can wait with them while I bring the car around—like we did with the file boxes yesterday.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sadie said, finally meeting his eyes. He held her gaze, and she could see the same hesitation she had to talk about uncomfortable things.

“We’d better get going,” Pete finally said, stepping away and checking his watch. “Traffic will be a nightmare.”

Choy’s was busy, and Lin Yang didn’t treat them as though she recognized them. Instead, she showed them to an empty table and put down the dinner menus, which were exactly like the lunch menus. She spoke in the same clipped and efficient speech she used for everyone. A younger daughter was running the cash register tonight. Min was nowhere in sight, and Sadie worried that she wasn’t there. Pete and Sadie had ruled out the eleven-year-old as the possible granddaughter seen at Wendy’s building, leaving just the older two as possibilities, though Sadie’s money was still on Min.

The daughter working the register was wearing black ballet flats, not the Converse sneakers they were looking for. But surely she had more than one pair of shoes; it was silly to think they’d be able to identify which daughter had been there by her shoes alone.

Pete ordered for them again, some of the same things they’d had yesterday but a few different items as well; they skipped the ribs. Each time the door to the kitchen opened, Sadie tried to get a glimpse of who was working back there, in hopes of spotting Min, but the angle wasn’t good. They finished their dim sum having only seen Lin Yang and the middle daughter.

When Lin Yang brought them their check, Sadie asked if her daughters were working tonight, as though she didn’t see the girl at the register.

“Min is working in the back; Pengma is at my sister’s. She’s only here in the morning.” She waved toward the register. “That is Sonia. Pay at the register.”

Pete and Sadie shared a now-what look as Lin Yang moved quickly away from their table. Sadie had thought that Lin Yang would want to show off her girls, but clearly not.

“That didn’t turn out, did it?” Sadie said as she set her napkin on her empty plate. She pushed away from the table before noticing someone coming toward them from the direction of the kitchen. Sadie looked up to see Ji looking sharp in an all-black chef’s jacket and matching pants. He had a black cap on his head as well, making him look very official. Sadie stayed in her seat and smiled up at him.

“Your dinner was good?” he asked when he came to a stop beside their table.

“Excellent,” Pete said. “Some of the best dim sum I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ji said with a nod. He had his hands clasped behind his back, which forced him into a rather formal stance. “Shots came for everything?”

“Yes,” Sadie confirmed. “He was great. Thank you for setting that up.”

Pete ate the final dumpling and laid his chopsticks next to his plate.

“Now you two can return to Colorado.” Ji looked between them. “The wedding is coming up quickly, isn’t it?”

Sadie felt a tightness in her chest at the mention of the wedding. She knew she was overreacting to think that the tension she and Pete continued to feel on this trip meant that the wedding was off, and yet the fear was there. She looked at her engagement ring, which had always brought a zing of excitement when she caught sight of the diamond sparkling in the light. It was plenty sparkly beneath the over-bright lights of the restaurant, but the zing fizzled. She didn’t know what to expect—sooner or later she and Pete would have to talk about everything again. What would come of that conversation?

“Three weeks,” Pete answered for her.

“It’s good the apartment was cleared out so quickly then. I’m sure you have a lot to do to get ready.”

“Our flight doesn’t leave until Sunday,” Sadie said, wondering if he would suggest they see each other before she and Pete had to leave.