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Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)(75)

Author:Mia P. Manansala

Tita Rosie smiled in support. “How are you doing, Beth? I hope you’re enjoying the food we sent you. Let me know if you have any questions about the food or need refills on anything.”

“When did you have time to drop off food?” I wasn’t surprised she’d prepared food for Beth since that was to be expected—even someone like Beth, who could afford to have a private chef cook all her meals, deserved the comfort of a lovingly prepared meal. She might not look like she was grieving, but she was also the type to not let anyone know if she was. And from the little I knew about her, she sure wasn’t the type of person to let people know that she needed help. If something was going to get done, she’d take care of it herself. At least we had that much in common.

“Jae stopped in to eat before going to visit her yesterday, so I sent along a big tray of food with him. I’d already planned on it, but he made it easier for me, telling me her food preferences and delivering it for me. Such a thoughtful boy,” Tita Rosie said, gazing at him fondly. In the short time she’d gotten to know him, she’d grown pretty attached. Maybe because he did all the things for her that her jerk son Ronnie never bothered with. Ronnie was my older cousin and he’d run off years ago, just like his good-for-nothing dad. Both men had stayed around just long enough to break Tita Rosie’s heart. Having Jae and Detective Park around had done wonders for her. Jae was sweet and the detective was kind—neither of them suffered from the banality of Midwestern “niceness.” We were lucky to have the Park men in our lives.

As I thought that, Beth put her hand on Jae’s shoulder and murmured something in his ear, making him laugh. I fought down all the dark, jealous thoughts swirling in my head, trying to temper them with kinder, less judgmental ones. Everyone grieves in different ways, Lila. This doesn’t mean anything. You know they’re friends, and you know Jae looks out for his friends. You’ve been over this already. You don’t get to judge their relationship. You could never know someone’s private grief. I had just succeeded in reminding myself of that when Jae took Beth’s hand and squeezed, looking down at her with the sweetest concern.

“Excuse me, I need something to drink,” I said as I attempted to flee from the group. Unfortunately, Amir and the aunties appeared at that moment and boxed me in.

Amir had two glasses in his hand. “I’ve got seltzer water with lime and sparkling grape juice. Which would you prefer?”

I accepted the seltzer, happy to see him but disappointed I’d lost my chance to escape. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to make it. Weren’t you working on a case?”

He took a sip of his drink. “We were able to wrap it up quickly since the client didn’t need us anymore.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Ninang Mae said. “Was it anyone we knew?”

I brought my hand to my face and massaged my temples. “Ninang Mae, you can’t ask him stuff like that. Even if that person is no longer his client, that doesn’t mean Amir can just gossip about them.”

Ninang April waved her hand. “Mae has no tact. Besides, his client was obviously Oskar Weinman. Isn’t that right, Amir?”

I had barely recovered from the fact that Ninang April had the nerve to call Ninang Mae tactless, with a straight face and everything, when Amir choked on his drink.

“Excuse me, this juice is much sweeter than I thought. I’m going to get some water. Does anyone need anything?” Amir looked around the group as if he were taking orders but refused to meet anyone’s eyes. Interesting. “Oh, Joy! And, um, Joy’s friend. I’m about to get drinks. Do you want anything?”

Joy and Katie had just joined our group. They both blushed and asked for fizzy water, which he hurried to retrieve. Watching him scurry away, I asked the girls, “I didn’t think you’d come. How’d you get here?”

“The mayor and Ms. Thompson told all of us in the pageant that we needed to be here to pay our respects. I asked my sister to drop us off on her way to work. Ate Bernie is back on schedule at the hospital and Katie’s mom couldn’t take us.” Joy bit her lip, as she turned to face Beth. “I didn’t like Mr. Thompson. At all. But I am sorry for your loss. We both are,” Joy added, gesturing at Katie, who looked surprisingly solemn. Her usually lively eyes were dull and ringed with dark circles, and her freckles stood out in sharp relief to her unnaturally pale skin.

“You OK, Katie?” I asked, worried that all that’d been going on was making her sick.

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