Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)(74)

No, it wasn’t too much to ask. But a life was too high a price to pay, and she took two. I could only sympathize so far.

She must’ve sensed this because she decided to go for the jugular with her next words. “Your mother would’ve done the same, you know. The way you and Bernadette talk about her . . . that was a woman who would’ve done what it took to make sure you were taken care of. You just don’t understand how strong a mother’s love could be.”

And that . . . that just broke me. Because while I didn’t agree with her idea of what a mother’s love was, I couldn’t deny that for both her and my mom, that was absolutely how they showed their love. That’s what their love amounted to. My mother had loved in the way that she knew how. It had never felt like enough. But maybe I needed to either let people love me in the limited way they could or learn to ask for what I needed out of a relationship. And if they couldn’t provide it . . . maybe I needed to learn to move on.

Funny how all it took was a gun-toting murderer for me to have an epiphany. Dear Lord, if I got through this, I was going to sign up for all the therapy. Just all the therapy, give it to me. Adeena and Elena would be so proud.

Adeena and Elena! As if the very thought of asking for help conjured them, the Brew-ha Cafe booth came into view and I could see them hard at work serving customers. Longganisa was with them, wearing the shirt emblazoned with the cafe logo I’d ordered especially for her. She started barking and pulling at her leash once she’d noticed me, but it was attached to the table and she couldn’t come any closer. All the noise drew Elena’s attention, and she smiled and waved, calling out a greeting, which I returned after Winnie nudged me again with her purse gun.

“Give a quick, friendly hi and keep it moving.” Winnie’s voice wavered a bit as she took in the crowd around us and how much farther it was to the parking lot.

Sensing this, I knew it was now or never to make my move. After her earlier slip, Winnie had been careful to keep a tight hold on me, and I’d been limping along, ignoring the pain, waiting for the right moment. When I saw a small pothole in the street that hadn’t been fixed yet, I took my chance.

“Ope!” I yelped, as my foot caught in the hole. I grabbed Katie’s injured arm in an attempt to catch myself and succeeded in having her let go of Joy as she started to fall with me. Winnie had to let go of her gun and take her hand out of her purse to catch her daughter. I waited till Winnie’s hands were full, then shoved Joy toward Adeena and Elena’s table. “Run!”

Winnie cursed and pulled out her gun, pointing it at me as I lay prone on the street. “Get up.” She tossed Katie her keys. “Run straight to the car. Don’t stop for anybody. Be ready to take off as soon as I get there.”

Katie was still rubbing her sore arm and fumbled the catch. Joy, moving faster than I thought possible, snatched the keys off the ground and sprinted toward my aunt and grandmother, who were set up directly across from Adeena and Elena. Winnie’s gun arm swung toward Joy, and both Katie and I screamed, “No!”

I launched myself off the ground and tackled Winnie before she could hurt Joy, muscle memory taking over as my body relived this way too familiar situation. Winnie dropped the gun and it skittered away into the screaming crowd, which had finally caught on to what was happening. Unfortunately, that sudden motion put way too much pressure on my already messed up ankle and I could no longer stand up or put any weight on it.

“Katie, get the gun and get out of here!” Winnie screamed as she straddled me to prevent me from reaching the gun myself.

“Mom, stop it! Leave her alone, we need to go!” Katie sobbed, pulling on her mother’s arm. But it was too late—someone must’ve alerted the SPPD, and they were (slowly, so slowly) making their way over to us.

Winnie let out a furious cry. “You ruined everything! Now what’s going to happen to Katie?”

Before I could react, she wrapped her hands around my throat. Those hands, as strong and powerful as I remembered from the head massage she gave me mere days ago, squeezed tighter and tighter as they choked the life out of me. I tried to tear her hands away, but she was too strong. I couldn’t put enough weight on my feet to try and buck her off. I started to slip into the blackness, Katie’s sobs and Longganisa’s furious barking the only sounds I could hear . . .

Suddenly, a great weight was lifted from me as Winnie toppled off me with a cry and light crept back into my vision. I coughed, hand to my throat, as I drew in great big gasps of air, the feeling both razor sharp and relieving. As my vision cleared, I saw Bernadette standing over me, the restaurant’s electric kettle in her hand. The police were standing watch over a dazed Winnie while Detective Park comforted a hysterical Katie, who was screaming curses at Bernadette.

I blinked up at Bernadette. “What are you doing here?”

That simple question burned my injured throat and caused a coughing fit.

“That’s really all you can say to the person who just saved your ridiculous ass?” she said as she eased me into a sitting position and checked me over for injuries. As her fingers probed my throat, I hissed at the sharp pain her ministrations brought. “Hmm, some bruising is likely but nothing serious. You’ll probably be sore for the next few days, so try to rest and not speak too much. I know how hard that is for you, but try, OK?” She smiled as she said that, not with the usual sarcasm or venom, but with actual concern.