Fortune Cookie (Culinary Mystery) by Josi S. Kilpack Page A

eyebrows pulled together as he took a few steps toward it. He picked it up, regarded it for a few moments, and then looked up at her. “You bought this at the restaurant today?”
    “No,” Sadie said, shaking her head. “I did buy one—you’re very talented—but it’s in the car.” She waved toward the box in his hands. “This was Wendy’s. Didn’t you give it to her?”
    “No,” Ji said, sounding confused.
    “Maybe she bought it,” Sadie suggested.
    “She hasn’t been to my restaurant in years,” Ji said, shaking his head and putting the box back on the counter.
    “Did you come here? To Wendy’s apartment?”
    “No,” Ji said simply.
    “But you both lived right here in San Francisco?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh,” Sadie said, not wanting to be pushy but confused all the same.
    Ji faced her and blessedly gave her more information. “If either of us had wanted to see the other, we could have. The landlord told me she’d lived here for twelve years. I had no idea. As it was, we were two people amid 800,000 who live in this city; it’s easy to avoid people if you wish. I live in Chinatown. I work and raise my children there. She always knew where I was. When she wanted to find me she did, but it was rare that she would come by, and when she did, it would be because she needed money—which I never gave her. I had no interest in pursuing a relationship with her. She stayed in her community; I stayed in mine. It wasn’t as though we would accidentally meet.”
    “That makes sense,” Sadie said, focusing on the logistics he’d mentioned rather than the sadness of their relationship. Wendy didn’t have a car, so it stood to reason that she’d stay close to home. “It seems most neighborhoods around here are quite self-sufficient, with grocery stores and restaurants that are accessible to those who live there.”
    “Exactly,” Ji said.
    He let his eyes run along the apartment again before they met Sadie’s. “So, what would you like me to do?” he asked. “I’d started on the stuff in the living room, but then the detective showed up with those boxes”—he waved toward the document boxes still on the counter—“and I answered his questions until I had to get back to the restaurant.”
    Sadie nodded. “Well, I’ve packed up most of the cabinets in the kitchen. She has some really nice sets of dishes, and I wondered if you wanted to keep them. One is from Williams-Sonoma and—”
    “I don’t want anything,” Ji cut in, his voice brisk.
    “Nothing?” Sadie asked, glancing at the TV on the wall. It was a really nice TV, and she figured that if he wanted anything at all, he’d want that. She also wondered why the robbers hadn’t taken it. Maybe because it was too big to get out easily?
    “She gave me nothing while she was alive, and I won’t take anything now.”
    Sadie was struck by the intensity of his words and by the obviously deep-seated pain he still felt about his mother. “We could probably sell some of this. She has some very nice things.”
    He shook his head again. “I want nothing from her.”
    Sadie nodded sadly. “I’m sorry for all the hurt she caused you, Ji.”
    He simply looked at her, and she wondered if his distrust for his mother had spread to include Sadie too. She’d sensed it when she talked to him on the phone but hoped meeting him in person would change things. She wanted him to see her as an ally, even if accepting her as family was too difficult right now. He finally looked away, scanning the apartment again.
    “My friend works with a charity organization that helps new immigrants get settled here in San Francisco. He said he can send a truck tomorrow afternoon. Do you think we can get everything packed up before then? They’ll take everything—furniture, kitchen supplies, and clothes. They’ll even take nonperishable food and cleaning supplies.”
    “That’s wonderful,” Sadie said with a smile she hoped communicated that she was trying to