CHAPTER

three

I SLEPT LIKE THE dead. Maybe the mental trauma from visiting Russ Nolan had overwhelmed my brain. In the morning, I only woke up at half past nine because a series of pings came from my phone:

You wake yet? XOXO Ma

Kopi date in ten minutes.

P.S. His name Deeter. Such nice profile on Excite.

I groaned, threw on the first clothes I saw, and shoved a comatose Marshmallow into his carrier.

“Five minutes,” I guaranteed Marshmallow when I left him in the Prius and entered the coffee shop.

Needing a caffeine boost but hating the jitters of coffee, I ordered a tea. Before doing so, I had a brief look around but didn’t see anyone holding up a rose or using any kind of romantic signal. Then again, Ma had registered me on a dating site called Excite.

Well, I’d at least have some tea if the guy didn’t show up.

Just then I heard the barista call out, “Detour.”

“It’s Deeter,” a scratchy voice said.

Like the barista had said, I wanted to take an alternate route when I saw who had spoken up. A guy with orangey sunless tanner skin and a creepy smile. He wore a sweater tied around his shoulders and penny loafers with actual coins in the slots. Definitely not Josh drool-worthy.

First impressions aren’t everything, I reasoned, and I had promised Ma to give it a try. I went over and tapped him on the arm. “I’m Mimi.”

“Enchanted,” he said. He made to swoop in and kiss my cheek, but I backed away.

The barista called my name, and I grabbed my drink. When I turned around, Deeter had already secured a cozy table in a dim corner.

I joined him but moved my seat a safe distance away. Figuring one cup of tea would take five minutes of conversation, I asked him an easy question. “What do you do?”

“Manage people’s assets.” He patted his shellacked hair. “Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to use words that went over your pretty little head.”

Two more minutes with him, max. “I understand numbers. My dad’s in finance, and I have my own business.”

“That wasn’t in your profile.” He checked his phone. “Mimi Lee? Haiyaa!”

He made a chopping motion, and I managed to keep the scream inside my head. “Please, no kung fu references.”

“Kidding.” He held up his hands. “Can’t you take a joke?”

“You sure you’re ready to date?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Who said anything about dating?” Looking at his phone, he quoted, “‘You want kopi or not?’ Sounds like a code word to me.”

I almost spit out my drink at him. “Kopi means coffee in Manglish. Malaysian English.”

Draining the rest of my tea, I fiddled with my phone under the table.

“Exotic.” Deeter leaned forward. “You know, I don’t live too far from here.”

The alarm rang on my phone, and I picked it up. Pretending to take a call, I held a conversation with myself: “An emergency? I’ll be right over.”

I ran out the door, not bothering to look back. Once outside, I texted Ma to delete my Excite profile forever. What kind of site had she signed me up for anyway? I’d rather spend the rest of my life with Marshmallow than with that Deet-bag.

In the Prius, I saw the car clock. Ten o’clock already. Crap. I was late to open the store. As we peeled away from the coffee shop, Marshmallow asked, “What? Did you rob the Starbucks?”

Hollywoof didn’t have its own parking lot but shared the metered spaces behind the shops, which made me even tardier. As I bustled across the palm tree–lined plaza, I passed by stores already in full swing. The taco shop had its doors open, and fried fish flavored the air. A table displayed sarongs in front of the swim store. Only the late-night sports bar hadn’t opened up yet.

I sprinted over to Hollywoof, where I saw a suited man with his back to me. He stood peering through my shop window.

The stranger didn’t seem to have a pet with him. And not one strand of fur decorated his dark gray jacket and slacks.

I jingled my keys to get his attention. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

When he turned around, I saw a man about six feet tall with sandy buzz-cut hair. He had hard features with a sharp nose and a square jaw. His light blue eyes reminded me of ice cubes.

“Mimi Lee?” he said. He brushed his sport coat with a subtle move of his hand, and I spied a badge at his waist.

“That’s me.” I scrunched my nose. “Is this about the dog breeder?”

“You could say that.” His voice had an edge to it.

Marshmallow sat at my feet and bristled. “Don’t trust guys who don’t own pets,” he said, as I opened the door to the shop.

I flipped on the lights and welcomed the officer in.

We sat in the waiting area on the pleather benches. I thought Marshmallow might stay near me to provide emotional support, but he strode over to his roost near the plateglass window. Figured.

I frowned at the cat, and the officer caught my look.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

He perched at the edge of his seat. “Here’s my card,” he said, handing his info over.

“‘Detective Brown,’” I read and started trembling. “Homicide division?”

He tapped the shiny badge at his waist. “Yes, and I’m investigating the death of Russ Nolan.”

“What?” I gasped. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marshmallow’s ears prick up.

Detective Brown’s cold eyes gazed into mine. “You were at his house yesterday. A neighbor heard your argument.”

I nodded. I remembered the window slamming shut. “Russ Nolan was mistreating those poor Chihuahuas.”

The detective made a noise in his throat, neither affirming nor denying my claim.

I wiped my suddenly sweaty hands against the pleather. They left a slight streak.

“The neighbor quoted you as saying, ‘You hurt those dogs, and I’ll hurt you.’”

My jaw dropped. “But I didn’t kill him. I meant I’d report his activities to the right agencies.”

Detective Brown straightened up and nodded. “Yes, that’s how we found you so quickly. You filed a complaint with the local police. Intake said you seemed miffed the department couldn’t help you more.”

Shifting in my seat, I said, “I felt annoyed about the paperwork. It could take a long time to go through the red tape.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me. “So you took justice into your own hands.”

I shook my head. “No, Detective, I didn’t.”

“Do you have an alibi for last night?”

I glanced at Marshmallow. “My cat was with me . . .” If only he could talk to the detective as well. Use his mind powers.

“I see.” Detective Brown gave me a knowing look. “I’m still gathering evidence, but I’m sure I’ll be back soon.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Detective. Er, have a good day.”

He got up and dusted off his sport coat. With one hard push, he swung the shop door open and left.

I began pacing the floor. Was I a murder suspect? How had this happened?

“Calm down,” Marshmallow said, his eyes following my movements. “You’re making me dizzy.”

I halted and threw my hands up in the air. “You’re the reason I got into this mess. I traipsed through his house because I was running after you.”

I needed to call somebody. Who? Not my parents. They would worry too much. Alice?

She’d be teaching class about now, but I hoped she’d pick up. Her cell went straight to voice mail, so I dialed her classroom number.

After several rings, I got through. I didn’t let her speak as I said, “Alice, I need—”

A shrill voice came down the line. “This is Principal Hallis. You are disrupting this class. To whom am I speaking?”

My mouth opened and closed.

In a fainter voice, I heard the principal say, “Miss Lee, no personal calls during classtime. I thought you’d be more professional.” The line disconnected.

I slumped my shoulders, while Marshmallow licked at his coat without a care in the world.

I pointed at him. “I’m taking you back to the shelter as soon as I can.”

“You’ve got bigger fish to fry. Looks like you’re murder suspect number one.”

He was right. I plunked down on the bench and put my head in my hands.

“Perk up,” Marshmallow continued. “You know a lawyer, right? I saw his card on your nightstand.”

I spluttered. “You can read, too?” And who was he talking about?

“Learned it from closed-captioning. The card said ‘Josh.’”

My cheeks flamed. How could I face him again? But Marshmallow had a point. Josh was a lawyer. Actually, the only attorney I knew.

I looked at Marshmallow. “Okay, I’m keeping you, but only until I clear my name.”