Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)(42)

Memories of my mother buzzing around me, always adjusting one thing or another on me until I passed inspection, flooded my mind. And not just before a pageant or performance, either—she’d do this everywhere. Parties. The grocery store. At Tita Rosie’s Kitchen. Picking me up from school. Like Naoko, I was embarrassed by all the attention. Unlike her, I resented it. Her constant fixing made me feel like there was something wrong with me, that I wasn’t good enough the way I was. My hand went to my chest, seeking the familiar comfort of my necklace, but even that provided no relief because the chain caught in my hair and I had to ask Yuki to help me untangle it.

After twisting up my humidity-heavy hair in a messy chic bun, I went over to give Naoko a high five and pose with the other judges for the congratulatory photo. Valerie had already left, after conceding that Beth’s choice was the right one, so we didn’t have to deal with her trying to insert herself in all the pictures.

After we got a couple of group shots, Beth reminded the contestants that their essays were due at the end of the week and everyone split up to enjoy the rest of their day. I was shoving the pageant folder into my oversize Brew-ha Cafe–branded tote bag when Wilson Philipps, the jerk head reporter from the Shady Palms News, approached me. He’d printed the most ridiculous articles about me and my family a few months ago, and it seemed like he was back to dig up more sensational trash to print.

“So, Lila, I hear you’re at it again.”

I hitched my heavy bag higher on my shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“Investigating another murder tied to your family. I heard your cousin Bernadette Arroyo is the main suspect in the case. Care to comment?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know who your source is, but you continue to be as wrong as ever. And no, I’m not interested in any follow-up questions,” I said, cutting him off before he could lob any other insults my way.

I turned and marched toward the exit, but before I got more than a few steps away, a hand shot out and gripped my upper arm like a vise, holding me in place. The sense memory of the last time someone put their hands on me like that—tried to hurt me—kicked in and I screamed as I fought off my attacker.

“Let me go! Let me go!” I swung my bag wildly and was rewarded with an “Oof!” when it connected, but I couldn’t let my guard down. I kept swinging and swinging until the hand gripping me finally released me.

I heard Bernadette’s voice floating above me as I sank to the floor. “Didn’t you hear her? She said to let her go! Now get out of here.”

Through the hazy edges of my vision, I saw Bernadette confronting the reporter. What was she doing here? I didn’t remember her being in the crowd earlier.

Wilson held his hands up. “Hey, I just wanted to ask her another question! She’s the one that attacked me. And aren’t you wanted for murder, anyway? This wouldn’t have happened if she’d just answered my questions about you.”

Beth and Sana joined Bernadette and they all stared Wilson down. “We all saw you put your hands on her and you were the one who refused to let go when she asked. Now get out of here. You’re not welcome to any more of the pageant events and your editor will be hearing about this.” Beth turned away, dismissing him, and Bernadette helped Sana pick me up off the floor and ease me onto a chair.

My breaths were coming in short gasps and I couldn’t get my heart to slow down—it’s like my body couldn’t register that I wasn’t in danger anymore. It wasn’t until I heard Detective Park’s voice that I came back to myself. Bernadette was surprising enough, but when did he get here? He was pressing a bottle of water into my hands and speaking in a soothing voice, the same kind you’d use if you were talking to an injured animal.

“Hey, Lila, it’s OK, it’s just me. Now I want you to focus on me. Good. Now name five things that you can see.”

I was too muddled to question him or his sudden appearance, so I followed his odd directive. “Uh, a water bottle. You. Beth’s shoes.” I paused, my hand moving toward my chest. “My jade necklace.”

“That’s good, just one more thing. You’re doing a great job.”

My eyes focused on Bernadette next to him. “Ate Bernie? What are you doing here?”

Detective Park waved my attention back to him. “Perfect! That’s five things. How do you feel now? And yes, that’s Bernadette. She’s the one who called me.”

“Called you for what?”

“Bernadette said there was a problem at the pageant and you needed help. Right after that, Mr. Philipps called to say you assaulted him. I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

“I was walking away and he—he grabbed me. Only I didn’t know it was him. I just felt his hand on my arm, and it was gripping me so tight, and I . . .” I trailed off as the memory made me shudder.

“And you just reacted?” Detective Park guessed.

I nodded. “Next thing I know, I heard Bernadette yelling at him. I’m not sure what happened.”

Sana spoke up. “Bernadette did some sort of pressure-point grip to his shoulder and he let go of you. Then Beth kicked him out and said he was banned from future events.”

I looked around to thank Beth but she was nowhere to be found. “Where’d she go?”

“She left after the reporter. I stayed behind to make sure you were OK,” Sana said. “Do you still want to come to class? I understand if you want a rain check.”