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.
* * *
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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.
“Heading over now, and I’ve got some snacks.”
“Better make it quick. Sana’s whipping up her famous sangria slushies and I can’t promise there will be any left by the time you get here.”
* * *
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Sana’s sangria slushies were exactly what I needed. Both to help me unwind and also remove any last bits of awkwardness among the three of us. Before leaving, Tita Rosie had given me a huge tray of chicken adobo and rice, which was delicious but did nothing to combat the effects of our drinks. We were already on the second pitcher and showed no signs of stopping.
The ube chocolate chip cookies I’d prepared were a hit, though I wasn’t sure if it was because Valerie truly loved them or if the wine had made her maudlin.
“These are so delicious! They remind me of this dessert I tried in Hawaii. Such a pretty purple color.” Valerie made a noise of appreciation as she picked up another cookie.
Sana took one as well. “When were you in Hawaii?”
Valerie tilted her head. “Maybe five or six years ago? It was right before Mom and Dad died. Family trip to attend a wedding. We all had such a lovely time.” Her expression changed. “Rob was there, too. Probably the only time the whole family was together and we didn’t fight.”
I put my hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry about Rob.”
She turned to me, eyes bleary, and a wave of alcohol fumes rolled off her, overwhelming my sensitive sense of smell. I tried not to gag as I braced myself for the question I knew was coming. The first pitcher had passed in small talk, and I guessed Valerie was relying on liquid courage to get her through this.
“What happened? What did you see? I know you both were there. The officers told me you were the ones who found the body.”
Nothing but professionalism from Shady Palms’s finest.
Sana and I exchanged looks, but she then busied herself with filling Valerie’s glass. Guess she was leaving this to me. “There’s not much I can tell you. Sana and I were jogging along the river and my dog started barking and pulling me toward the bridge. That’s how we found the . . . found Rob. Once we realized what we were looking at, I called 911. That’s pretty much it.”
“Sana, you saw the body, too? What were you doing while Lila was on the phone?” Valerie leaned forward, as if what she said next could be crucial.
“I leaned over to see if he could be saved, but it was pretty obvious it was too late. I didn’t want to move him in case the cops needed to preserve the scene, so I just sat on the bridge by him until the ambulance came.”
“Obvious how?” Valerie asked.
Sana bit her lip. “You don’t want to know. I wish I didn’t know. I can’t get it out of my head . . .”
Her voice had gone all far away and hollow-sounding, so Valerie dropped the subject. She held out her glass to Sana, who silently refilled it, emptying the pitcher. Sana left for a few minutes, leaving Valerie and me to sip our drinks in silence. Wow, were they delicious. And potent. I made a note to ask Sana for the recipe.