For a few Dumplings More Read online

  Tony’s arm was clammy with sweat. He was ice cold from shock. I shuddered, realizing I had sent my most precious friend out on a date with this monster.

  Fiona was a killer alright, just like Henry. I had no doubt she could do it again under similar circumstances.

  “Thanks for sharing this with us,” I said lightly.

  I didn’t tell her we would be sharing it with the police.

  “You understand, don’t you, Meera?” she implored.

  I forced myself to nod and smile.

  “Call me later, cowboy,” she crooned, leaning close to Tony.

  We walked out of the small cottage and got into Tony’s truck. He wheeled out and I waved goodbye. We couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  Chapter 20

  My chest was still heaving when we walked into the kitchen. Sally was at the stove, stirring some bubbling pots. For once, I didn’t care what she was doing.

  Motee Ba looked up in alarm when she saw us.

  “What’s wrong?” she cried out.

  “You look like you saw a ghost,” Jeet chortled.

  “Worse,” I muttered.

  My grandma came around and stroked my back, and I gradually began to calm down. Sally poured two glasses of juice for us. She began flipping grilled cheese sandwiches. Motee Ba must have told her about our eating habits.

  The juice gave me a jolt of energy and I finally dared to look at Tony. We hadn’t said a word to each other all the way back.

  Tony hugged me tight. He was still shaking.

  “You sent me into the lion’s den, Meera.”

  The usual humor in his voice was missing.

  “Are you ready to tell us what has you turned around?” Motee Ba asked some time later.

  I was ripping apart the grilled cheese sandwich Sally had placed before me.

  “We can’t do this twice. Let’s get Stan here.”

  Tony called Stan and he arrived fifteen minutes later. There are some plus points to living in a small town. Tony and I narrated Fiona’s story bit by bit. Jeet had thankfully gone to his room earlier. Sally & Motee Ba sat there looking shocked.

  Stan managed to be speechless for a while.

  “Where do you find these people?” he finally said. “And how do they tell you these outlandish things?”

  “You think she was fibbing?” I asked hopefully.

  “No. No. I’m sure she wasn’t. We did find Dot’s DNA on the cushion.”

  “Are you going to arrest her?” Tony asked.

  “Can’t say. But I have to fill out a report. So we have people owning up to the dumpling and the cushion.”

  “Maybe someone had a gun in their pockets?” I wailed. “That’s it. Motee Ba is never going to a WOSCO meeting again.”

  Stan left soon. Tony stayed over for dinner. Sally had made chicken with a mole sauce and cheesy black beans. I imagined her cooking Mexican food every day for the past several years. Had she never craved a Gujarati meal?

  I walked around in a daze for a couple of days. Other than helping Becky out at the diner, I wasn’t doing much. I came across Dad a couple of times, humming a tune under his breath. It hardly registered on my mind.

  “You’ve got to snap out of it, Meera.”

  Becky took me to task Thursday evening.

  “It’s Valentine’s weekend. Let’s talk about your plans.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  I had completely forgotten about the weekend.

  “Is your Dad taking your Mom out on a date?”

  I had no idea. We had never really caught up after the dinner date on the patio.

  Stan turned up for breakfast the next morning. I was making breakfast quesadillas with eggs and sausage, trying to keep busy.

  My green Pioneer tee shirt matched my mood. The whole family was seated at the table. Pappa was tapping his soft boiled egg and Motee Ba was buttering his toast.

  “Why don’t you get the real butter, Hansa?” he grumbled.

  Stan pulled up a chair at one end of the table and beamed at everyone. He was bursting with some news.

  “What is it?” Dad asked with a note of alarm.

  The arrival of Stan Miller never bodes well for this family. No one was going to forget it any time soon.

  “I’ve got big news!”

  Pappa ignored him and dipped his toast in his egg.

  “Mr. Patel, you want to hear this.”

  Pappa munched his toast, staring at Stan. I giggled at the look on his face.

  “The test results are back. And they are a match.”

  “What results are you talking about, dear?” Motee Ba asked. “Is this about Dot?”

  “Oh no, no. This is about Mrs. Patel here.”

  Stan looked at Sally. I switched off the stove and collapsed in a chair next to Stan. The entire Patel clan was leaning forward, their mouths open and their eyes wide.

  “Get on with it, Stan.”

  “The DNA results. They are a match. There can be no doubt this lady here is your biological mother, Meera.”

  Sally’s face lit up in a smile. Dad pumped a fist in the air and yelled something. Motee Ba had tears in her eyes.

  Jeet jumped up and hugged Sally. She hugged him back.

  “You’ve come bearing good news for a change, Stan,” Dad said approvingly. “Give the man some breakfast, Meera.”

  “Open that champagne you’ve been saving up, boy!” Pappa roared.

  He had a wild gleam in his eyes.

  I felt like I was watching everything from a distance. Ideally, I should have said something. But I was frozen. Great plans were made for Friday night and an impromptu dinner party was planned.

  “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” Aunt Reema asked Dad later that evening.

  We had just polished off a big dinner. Everyone wanted to hear about Dad’s date plans.

  “Your Mom and I have been talking,” Dad said, looking at me. “Why don’t we all go to an Indian restaurant? It’s been a while since we all went to the city.”

  There was an uproar as everyone approved the idea. Swan Creek does not have an Indian restaurant. We have to go to cities like Tulsa or Oklahoma City to get a lavish Indian meal. These restaurants are nothing spectacular. But it’s a three hour drive to and fro. And that’s where the fun lies in going to these places.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere on your own?” Pappa asked Sally.

  She smiled and shook her head. I was beginning to read things in Sally’s smiles.

  Tony rang me up early Saturday morning. He sounded panicked.

  “She wants me to go out with her.”

  I didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.

  “Just say no.”

  “I did. Or tried to. She won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Is she going to force you to go with her?”

  “What if she pulls a knife on me, Meera?”

  I had never seen Tony afraid of anything. I burst out laughing.

  “So not funny, Meera. This is all your doing.”

  “Tell her we’re going out of town tomorrow.”

  Becky and I went shopping later. She had a date with someone she had met at the diner. We picked out a red dress for her. She forced me to get something new. I finally picked out a turquoise silk top with a cowl neck. It brought out the blue in my eyes.

  “You’re going to look beautiful,” Becky assured me.

  We had a surprise guest that afternoon. Atticus Brown drove up in an old sedan. I remembered Dot driving that car. Atticus had cleaned up. He almost looked handsome. I now knew why he had a patrician nose like British royalty. He was one of them.

  He helped someone out from the passenger seat. It was Walter. He was looking spiffy too.

  “Looks like they finally found out,” I mumbled to Motee Ba.

  We sprang forward to welcome them. Pappa and Walter greeted each other like long lost friends, which they were.

  Atticus had toned down his usual
attitude.

  “We have an announcement,” he said.

  “I’m finally going back home,” Walter yelled, looking happy. “I’m a Lord now. Lord Walter.”

  He looked around the room, smiling. Then he turned serious.

  “Just wish my Dot was here to enjoy this.”

  We tried to console him.

  “Never hurt anyone in her life, my Dot. Who knew she would go this way?”

  Walter seemed to have a better handle on the present than the last time I had seen him.

  “Thanks for all those meals you put together for me, Meera.”

  Atticus backed up his father.

  “The old man told me you cleaned around the house, did the dishes. You didn’t have to do that.”

  I spied a hard look in his eyes but the words coming out of his mouth were sweet. Not seeing him drunk was a big change.

  “What are your plans now, Walter?” Pappa asked loudly.

  “Dot already had tickets for us. We pushed the date a bit. Need to wrap up some things here.”

  “How do you feel about all this?” I asked Atticus.

  “Can’t say I’m unhappy. It’s like winning the lottery. All these years, my Pa never told me I was in line for some bloody title.”

  “Didn’t want to spoil you, boy,” Walter laughed.

  “Any more updates on who might have killed my Mom?” Atticus asked me point blank. “The police are not very forthcoming but I hear you have a direct line to them.”

  Walter had paled a bit. I glared at Atticus, alarmed at his choice of words. Did the man have no sense?

  “I’m sure they will tell you if they have something.”

  A tear rolled down Walter’s cheek.

  “Dot and I dreamed of this all our life. Going back to England! I’m not sure I want to go there without her.”

  “Don’t back out now, old man!” Atticus spit out.

  “He’s a bit senile,” he whispered in my ear.

  “We talked about this, Pa. Didn’t we? Mom would want you to go home. Go back to England.”

  Walter nodded. He had begun to look confused. The Browns left soon after.

  Pappa was tapping his cane, muttering to himself.

  “That boy is a disgrace,” Motee Ba fumed. “Dot always worried about him.”

  “Looks like he rubbed off on her,” I said.

  Motee Ba raised an eyebrow.

  “She resorted to harassing people, didn’t she? We know she hadn’t asked for money. Was she just enjoying making people unhappy?”

  “The Dot I knew would never do that, Meera.”

  “Motee Ba! You know what the letters said. Do you still side with Dot?”

  “I know where the evidence points. But deep down inside, I can’t believe Dot did this. There were so many things she could have done with her time. She always chose to help people in need.”

  “Well, Henry doesn’t think so, apparently.”

  “Henry Thompson was always batty,” Motee Ba fumed.

  We hurried through breakfast on Sunday, Jeet and Pappa grumbling when they had to eat cereal. No one likes a cold breakfast on Sunday morning.

  Sally appeared, looking stunning in a red dress. I don’t know what she’s got stashed in her luggage, but she has a pricey wardrobe. It’s even better than Motee Ba’s who shops at Macy’s in New York. Dad rolled out the big LX and we spent fifteen minutes settling everyone in their preferred seats. Tony and I got into his mother’s sedan.

  I had a surreal feeling the whole day but everyone looked happy. We were celebrating something as a family, and this was a blessing we had never thought we would have.

  Chapter 21

  Valentine’s Day cheered everyone up. The weather decided to test our spirits with a blizzard. Just when we start looking forward to March every year, along comes a storm or two.

  We didn’t get the pretty white snow. Instead, there was freezing rain and a biting wind that seeped through the bones.

  Becky and I were sitting in the diner one evening, sipping hot tomato soup. A police cruiser pulled into the lot and Stan walked in. He sat down patting his stomach. Stan is always hungry.

  Sylvie brought over a plate of warm biscuits and sausage gravy. Stan likes to eat this artery clogging meal any time of the day. He picked at it listlessly, earning a frown from Sylvie.

  I pulled the stringy cheese from my sandwich and played with it.

  “Are you going to say anything?”

  “I’m stumped, Meera. We’ve got nothing. Atticus Brown is hounding us, calling day and night. He wants the case wrapped before he leaves the country.”

  “He’s just throwing his weight around,” I scoffed. “Probably told you how he’s a Lord now or something.”

  “We still need to solve the case. Folks don’t feel safe knowing there’s a murderer among us.”

  “Dot needs justice,” Sylvie said as she poured coffee. “She deserves it. After all she did for the town…”

  “After she blackmailed and harassed all those people, you mean.”

  “You’re being hasty, Meera. My gut says Dotty Brown is innocent.”

  “Not that again!” I rolled my eyes.

  “What’s that board of yours say?” Stan asked, chewing his biscuit. “Got any insights from it?”

  “I haven’t really used the white board this time.”

  “Maybe you should,” Becky said. “It will help us look at the big picture.”

  I headed home, determined to make some progress. Becky tagged along. We picked up Tony on the way.

  “What is it we’re doing?”

  “We’re going to start analyzing everything from scratch.”

  I had already lugged the whiteboard to my room. It took up most of the empty space. Tony and Becky climbed up on my bed and I cleaned the board.

  I wrote the names of the women present at the WOSCO party.

  “There are dozens of names, Meera.”

  “I know, Tony, let’s just write down the main ones for now. The ones we know.”

  I started with Motee Ba and Sylvie, and followed it up with Mary Beth, Henry and Fiona. I drew a line through all these names. They were either innocent or they had confessed to something. Mary Beth’s was the only name that remained.

  I wrote Walter and Atticus on one side of the board. They were the immediate family but Atticus had a strong alibi. Walter wasn’t physically capable. I struck a line through them too.

  “You’re missing someone, but I don’t know who,” Becky said.

  “Isn’t there another new girl in town?” I asked. “She was talking to Motee Ba at our patio party.”

  I wrote ‘new girl’ under Mary Beth’s name.

  “Did we ever find out why the lights went out that day?” Tony asked. “Was there a power cut or was it a fuse or something?”

  “No way to know that,” Becky dismissed. “I was working at the diner and I don’t remember the power going out.”

  “The weather was pretty okay that day too,” Tony spoke up. “No storms or anything to cause a power outage.”

  “It wasn’t an outage,” I reminded them. “It came back on almost immediately.”

  “Is there a way to confirm this?”

  “Blue!” I exclaimed. “Blue works at the city offices. I met her when I was looking for that missing girl, remember?”

  “Okay, so you ask her about the power,” Becky said. “You’re just confirming it. Let’s assume it wasn’t widespread. Someone had to do it. Trip a fuse or something.”

  “Sylvie and Granny say it was hardly a minute, Meera.”

  “You know what this means?” I asked. “Someone wanted the lights out for a reason. Someone who planned what to do in that one minute.”

  That was a sobering thought.

  “It was a well planned murder, you mean,” Tony said slowly.

  “There’s someone that diabolical in Swan Creek?” Becky wondered out loud.

  We abandoned the board and went into the kitchen, scroungi
ng for food. Jeet came in when he heard us.

  “Everyone’s gone to Aunt Reema’s. We have to order dinner.”

  I drove downtown the next day. I had a purpose. I was looking for my friend Blue.

  There was a line at her counter and I patiently waited for my turn.

  Blue perked up when she saw me. Her hair was stringy and she looked like she hadn’t slept for several nights. I remembered she was a new Mommy.

  “How are you doing Meera?” she grinned with some of her old sass.

  “Better than you, I guess.”

  She waved off my concern. “I should be used to it by now.”

  Blue was a mother fifth time around. I didn’t know how she did it.

  “Did you hear about poor Dotty?” she whispered.

  “Actually, I was right there.”

  “Of course you were,” she groaned. “You have all the fun.”

  “If you mean stumbling on dead bodies and being a murder suspect, then I guess you’re right.”

  We laughed.

  The woman behind me had stopped making wisecracks about speeding it up and was openly listening to our conversation.

  “You’re going to solve this one too, just like the other two.”

  “It’s not that easy, Blue!”

  “So how can I help you today?”

  I gave Blue a brief account of the lights going off at the WOSCO event.

  “You want me to check if there was any outage at that time?”

  “Yeeees?” I said reluctantly.

  I didn’t want to get her into trouble.

  “Fortunately, there is nothing private about this information. So I can look it up real quick.”

  I beamed at her.

  “It’s not part of my job description. But anything for you, Meera.” She winked at me. “And a batch of those samosa dumplings everyone’s talking about.”

  “You got it!” I promised.

  Blue jabbed at her keyboard, pulled up a few screens and shook her head a few times. Then she looked up. I read the answer on her face.

  “There was no outage that day in all of Swan Creek. I know the area you mentioned is on the outskirts. I double checked.”

  “You’re sure?” I pressed.

  “Yes, Meera,” Blue sighed. “The power hasn’t been out so far this season in the whole county. We’ve had a mild winter.”