CHAPTER
thirty-four 
NIMBUS SEEMED TO feel better the next day. She even woke me up by jumping into the bed at seven in the morning. Gee, that oxygen infusion must have really done the trick.
I wondered how much the fancy machine cost. Probably way beyond my pet groomer’s salary. On the other hand, I could use Pixie’s other snippet of advice for free: Keep the windows open. The fresh air blowing in last night must also have helped.
A few minutes later, Marshmallow also climbed onto the bed. “You had a slumber party and didn’t invite me?” He swished his tail in my face, and I sneezed.
“There is a cause for celebration,” I said. “Nimbus has more energy. Must be from the oxygen chamber.”
“Speaking of last night . . .” Marshmallow sprawled next to my head and peered at me with his intense blue eyes. “You and Pixie had quite the discussion about Helen.”
“Yeah, they both attended that fancy boarding school.”
Marshmallow wiggled his ears. “I heard through the open patio door. Helen’s a trust baby, which means she had a huge estate. You know, one of the prime reasons to kill someone is for their money.”
I sat up with a start. “You’re right. And who doesn’t care about money? My sister. That by itself should clear her name.”
Marshmallow licked his paw. “Give it a try, but you know Detective Brown—and my apologies to swine—but he can be pigheaded.”
Since the cats had woken me up early anyway, I had time to see the detective before opening shop. I figured it’d be better to plead in person.
After a phone call to the station, though, I had to change my route. Detective Brown wasn’t at his desk like usual. Instead, he’d been called upon to do a Coffee with a Cop activity. These regularly scheduled events brought the police and the public together in order to ensure an atmosphere of collaboration in the community.
Detective Brown had been delegated to enjoying coffee and conversations at Cup O’ Joe. I knew of the location since I’d met up with Nicola there before, prior to her becoming my second hand around the store.
When I parked near the coffeeshop, I immediately spotted a long table, with a giant carafe and plenty of papers, set up outside. The various pamphlets probably offered tips about neighborhood safety and instructions on how to join the citizens’ police program. A few uniformed police officers greeted passersby and smiled at them.
Detective Brown, on the other hand, sat at a tiny table apart from the informational brochures. He wore his signature gray sport coat and had his arms crossed over his chest. Although he had a foam cup on the table, like he was open to a conversation, his eyes were focused on the pavement.
Thank goodness they’d held Coffee with a Cop outdoors, a perfect location for pets. I took the cats and approached the detective.
He didn’t notice until I’d taken a seat at his table. I laid Nimbus across my lap while Marshmallow sat near my feet.
Finally, Detective Brown looked up. A scowl crossed his face. “Miss Lee, please wait your turn. This event is to establish connections between the police department and local residents.”
I glanced around. “Seems like nobody’s clamoring to see you. Besides, I am a concerned citizen.”
“Oh, come—” On hearing the accidental command, Nimbus leaped off my lap and rushed over to the detective. She placed a paw on his shoe and gave a gentle meow.
The detective’s scowl fled, replaced by a general softening of his features. “Hey, little furball.” He scratched the top of her head.
She responded by jumping onto his lap and lying down like she’d found the coziest bed ever.
“Okay, Miss Lee,” Detective Brown said. “Maybe I do have time for a brief chat. And at the very least, it’ll make the time at this community event go quicker.”
I launched into my practiced speech. This time I decided to use a compliment sandwich (using layered positive-negative-positive comments) to help my attempt. “You’re such an important investigator handling a lot of big cases. It must have been easy to miss noticing that Alice doesn’t have the MOM to commit a murder. Since you’re such an effective detective, I know you want to see justice served.”
Marshmallow gave a soft hiss. “I think you meant to say ‘defective detective.’”
Meanwhile, Detective Brown goggled at me. Had my talk been a revelation to him? He rubbed his nose. “What do you mean by ‘MOM’?”
Oh. I’d shortened the key points to an acronym to better remember them. “You know. Motive, opportunity, and means. My sister doesn’t even have the first ‘M.’ She loves working at Roosevelt Elementary and was a friend of Helen’s. And money isn’t a factor because if you look at Helen’s will—”
He put a hand up to stop me. “I see your boyfriend Josh has been getting the legal scoop for you.”
“Yes, but that’s not the point.” Splaying my hands on the table, I leaned toward the detective. “Alice has no stake in Helen’s assets.”
“Are you so sure about that?” Detective Brown took a leisurely sip from his foam cup. “Because she’s affected by that will.”
I blew out a puff of air. Now he’d started making things up. “Where do you get that?”
“By reading the fine print. Why, didn’t your legal expert tell you?” He smirked. “Helen left a lot to the elementary school—earmarked for the kindergarten playground renovation that your sister’s in charge of.”
My jaw dropped. I remembered her finishing up a petition on February thirteenth when I’d first visited the school. But she was always raising money for the kindergarteners’ needs.
“Guess Alice had motive and opportunity then.” Detective Brown put up two fingers and wiggled a third. “All I need to do is figure out the means.”
“What about the principal?” I said. “Or the other staff at school?”
“I’m still crossing my t’s, but it seems like the principal was in his office all day long, fielding calls and doing paperwork. And I’ll double-check my notes from the staff interviews, but I’m about ready to close this case.”
I shoved my chair back. Plucking Nimbus off his lap, I left without saying another word.
At Hollywoof, I opened the store in a dour mood. Even Nicola sensed my poor attitude and didn’t bother with her usual superficial chatter. In fact, I kept asking her to take over for the simpler grooming duties. And when no customers were around, I requested that she keep to the back room, wiping down the tables and reorganizing the styling accessories.
I myself sat near the cash register, slouched, with my head propped against my elbow.
Marshmallow sauntered over and brushed his body against my legs. “Who stole your catnip, Mimi?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m back to square one in the case. Detective Brown thinks Alice killed Helen . . . for money, of all the ridiculous reasons.”
Marshmallow shook his fur out. “You’ve been in a tight spot before. And we all know that Detective Brown has no sense. You can never trust a man without pets.”
“I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, Marshmallow, but I’m stuck.” I patted his head. “I can’t find the source of mercury, and the number of suspects is dwindling. Principal Lewis is in the clear. He was in his office all day long according to the detective.”
Marshmallow put his nose in the air. “What about the other teachers? Or the janitor?”
“Maybe, but I still can’t figure out how they would have access to the poison, particularly since I didn’t find anything unusual in the science lab.”
“You know what I like to do when my mind is swimming in circles?”
“No. What?”
“Take a nap.” Marshmallow plopped down near my feet and closed his eyes.
“Um . . .”
“What I mean is, give your mind a break. Don’t you humans have that saying about getting ideas in the weirdest places, like the shower?” He opened one eye. “Not that being drenched in water sounds very inspiring.”
My phone chimed with a text from Alice. It read: See you tonight. Fingers crossed.
I groaned. “At least I’ll have a distraction soon.”
Both eyes now open, Marshmallow cocked his head at me.
“It’s time for Alice and me to work our matchmaking talent—on our parents.”
A few hours later, the cats and I arrived at my parents’ home. From the porch, I could see the light on in the kitchen, which probably meant Alice was hard at work organizing the catered food. I myself had brought only a roll of streamers from the dollar store as a last-minute attempt at decorating.
When I rang the bell, Alice opened the door. I peeked over her shoulder. “Where’s Ma and Dad?”
“I told Ma to stay in the bedroom because I was ‘cooking’ a special dinner. And Dad’s not back from golfing yet.”
I pointed at the purpling sky. “He’s really using the last of the sunlight today, huh?”
“Come inside, and tell me what you think about the setup.”
The cats and I went through the door. Upon seeing the dining table, I marveled at the food on display. An elegant porcelain platter with gold filigree held a mountain of roti. Tiny bowls surrounded the flatbreads like a Stonehenge of sauces and curries.
“How much food did you order?” I asked her.
Alice flushed red and gestured to a nearby kitchen counter, where I saw even more edible delights.
I spied satay sticks, a salad of exotic fruits, and even a container of spicy soup. “Um, aren’t we supposed to leave them alone for a romantic evening together? This is enough food for the whole neighborhood to feast on.”
Alice’s hands fidgeted. “I had a hard time deciding. The restaurant had so many good options.”
While I hung up a few streamers, twisting them for extra flair, Marshmallow crept toward the dining table. “If you need another stomach to fill, I’d be happy to volunteer my services.”
The fresh bread and spiced curry smelled intoxicating, and I licked my lips. There’d be plenty of leftovers for me to indulge in later.
Maybe the deliciousness had started wafting over to the rest of the house because Ma’s voice called out, “I want eat now. Can mah?”
My sister applied in the affirmative. “Can lah.”
Ma emerged from the hallway with a gleam in her eye. “Walao. Cook so much. Spoil me rotten.”
Alice blushed. “I can’t take any credit. It’s all from Roti Palace.”
Ma surveyed the food. “Dis like Chinese New Year feast. Special happen?” She peered into my sister’s face. “Find boyfriend?”
“Uh, no.”
Ma turned to me and pointed at my stomach. “Make me grandma?”
“What?” I gestured to the cats around me. “These are the only little ones I have.”
Marshmallow puffed out his fur. “Excuse me, I’m an adult cat, thank you very much.”
“This meal is for you and Dad. An early celebration dinner for your anniversary,” Alice said. “And I didn’t do all of the work. Mimi put up the decorations.”
Ma’s gaze landed on my haphazardly placed streamers, and she arched an eyebrow. At least she hadn’t laughed outright at my efforts.
“Why don’t we all sit down and wait for Dad?” Alice said.
“Won’t he be pleasantly surprised?” I said.
Ma let out a schoolgirl giggle, and we all settled around the table and waited. And waited.
Darkness set in. Soon, the gloom we felt wasn’t just due to the lack of light.
“Is he okay?” Alice asked.
“I don’t understand. Dad never misses dinner,” I said.
Ma stayed silent, but her eyes started glossing over, and she grew distant.
“I’m calling him,” I said. I dialed his number and put the call on speakerphone. When he picked up, my worry fled and morphed into frustration. He was okay, but . . . “Dad, where are you?”
“Princess One, what’s wrong?”
I ground my teeth. “We’re at home, waiting for you to show up for dinner.”
“I didn’t realize we had scheduled a family meal for tonight.”
“Not technically, but you’re always around for dinner.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late already. I’ll grab some food here at the country club. Do you want me to bring back anything?”
I huffed. “Alice already ordered tons of food.”
“I’m really sorry, but I had to take care of something.” Or was it someone? I still remembered that secret note he’d been writing before.
Ma took a deep breath to center herself but whispered “Greg” in a very disappointed tone.
Dad coughed and said, “Be home later.”
Instead of leaving like we’d originally planned, we tried to salvage the evening by turning it into a Girls’ Night In. But I really didn’t have the desire to eat more than a few bites of roti. Ma and Alice seemed to have the same lackluster appetite.
After finishing our “meal,” Alice suggested painting our nails, but Ma and I weren’t in the mood for a beauty ritual. We packed the food away into containers and placed them in the fridge. Disgruntled, Ma said she’d give them away at her next mah jong meeting.
Alice promised she’d stay overnight with Ma for emotional support. And when I started taking down the messy streamers, I couldn’t help feeling that some part of my secure childhood innocence was also being dismantled.