Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)(18)
None had ever died though.
Detective Park echoed my thoughts. “It’s hard to say without an autopsy, but he had a head injury. Likely he fell, hit his head, and got knocked out. Drowned when he couldn’t get back up.”
“So this is just a tragic accident? It doesn’t have anything to do with the pageant or those threatening letters?” The desperation in my voice was obvious even to me. I picked up Nisa and clutched her to my chest. She struggled (she hated being picked up), but I needed her near me.
Detective Park let out a breath. “I sure hope so. The sheriff’s going to have a fit if there’s another murder in this town, not to mention the mayor and his precious pageant. Still, I’m uncomfortable with you being involved with these people. Is it too late to drop out?”
I frowned. “Way too late. Besides, I can’t abandon those girls. You’ve met Joy. You know how badly she needs this. And I promised Yuki I’d watch over her daughter. They’ve got so much riding on this. If someone is targeting the pageant, who’s going to watch out for them?”
“The Shady Palms Police Department, Lila.”
I shifted Nisa to my other arm. I didn’t understand how such a tiny dog could have the density of a dying sun. “Do you really believe that? I know you care, but the rest of the department has proven as inept as usual.”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “Officer Clarkson has a daughter in the pageant. There’s no way he’d let anything happen to her.”
“His daughter’s name is Abigail, right? Yeah, no, she tried to use the fact that her dad’s a cop to ‘convince’ me and Sana to vote for her. Valerie kicked her out of the pageant after we reported her.” That was a particularly fun part of the evening, happening shortly after Rob’s scene with sandwich guy.
Detective Park cursed, then collected himself. “Sorry about that. But don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Now tell me everything you saw, starting from the beginning of your run until I arrived.”
* * *
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After the police had taken down our statements, Detective Park dropped Sana off at her studio and took me and Nisa home. He came inside with me and pulled Tita Rosie aside while I headed straight to the kitchen. All evidence of this morning’s failure was gone, and the kitchen was its usual sparkly, inviting self.
I sank down into a seat and laid my head down on my arms on the table. How could this have happened? I had just seen Rob the other night and he had been so . . . full of smarmy charm and himself, yes, but also full of life. So confident. So sure of his place, not just in this town, but the world. Yet all it took was one drunken mistake and he was gone? Just like that? If accidents like this could end the lives of people as rich and important as the Thompsons, and as good and simple as my parents, then—
I shook my head. No need to go down that road. I needed to focus on some sort of mindless activity—dwelling too much on Rob Thompson’s death could lead to a panic attack. I’d had more than I cared to count in the last few months. No, I just needed to deal with my pain the Macapagal way—work through it.
My thoughts suddenly turned to Valerie. She’d just lost the last member of her family. She didn’t seem particularly close to Rob, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be devastated. I understood how complicated love and family could be. I couldn’t do much to ease her grief, but I wanted to whip up something delicious, something that would bring a little sweetness during a bitter time.
As I racked my brain for a suitable gluten-free treat, I remembered Sana’s advice. I could easily bring her some kakanin, the various Filipino rice cakes that my grandmother was known for, but then that’d be a gift from her. Besides, she’d likely be seeking the comfort of something familiar. And what was more comforting than warm chocolate chip cookies? But I couldn’t resist mixing it up, just a little.
My style was hybrid Filipino-American desserts, giving a Filipino spin to what we think of as American and vice versa. It wasn’t about being fancy or technique-driven—it was about creating something delicious that made people happy. Period. I already knew that ube worked well in cookies, thanks to the ube crinkles I’d created earlier in the year. But would the subtle earthy sweetness of the purple yam pair well with chocolate? Guess there was only one way to find out. I grabbed my keys, hoping Mr. Weinman carried gluten-free flour at the One Stop Shop.
* * *
? ? ?
A couple of hours later, the cookies had cooled enough to pack in plastic containers: one for the regular ube chocolate chip cookies and one for the ube white chocolate chip. I wanted to see if the lighter, sweeter flavor of white chocolate worked better than the semisweet. Also, I was stalling. There was no way to avoid how awkward and tense this visit would be.
I located Valerie’s number on the Contacts form in the pageant info packet and called to see if she was up for some company. If not, I’d just drop the food off at her place. When she answered, she informed me she was at Sana’s apartment above her studio.
“I came here after I heard the news. I wanted to talk to you anyway, so thanks for saving me the trouble of looking up your number. Can you come over?”
This was even better than I’d hoped. I hadn’t been looking forward to being alone with her since I didn’t know her like that, but Sana did. Sana would be the perfect buffer for the sad, uncomfortable conversation that was sure to happen.