Fortune Cookie (Culinary Mystery) (33 page)

If the one letter Sadie had found in Wendy’s apartment was any indication, Wendy was likely harassing this woman. On the other side of the coin, however, was that Rodger’s wife was the one person Sadie and Pete had identified as having a motivation to hire someone to follow Rodger and see who he ate lunch with. Perhaps those two details were connected.

New people will bring you new realizations.

She looked at the two halves of the cookie in her hand. She wasn’t in the mood to eat them, but she’d heard that if you didn’t eat the whole cookie, your fortune wouldn’t come true. She read the fortune a third time and decided to pay a visit to Mrs. Rodger Penrose.

Min had said Ji would be back to the restaurant by eleven o’clock. Sadie could very well be finished interviewing Leann and back in Chinatown by then, assuming Leann was at the boutique this morning. Sadie checked her watch; it was just after ten o’clock, which was listed as the time the boutique opened Monday through Saturday. Sadie called the number listed on their website.

“
Pour Vous
boutique, this is Tia.”

“Hi, is Leann in?”

“Sure. Hold on just a minute.”

Sadie hung up, threw both halves of the fortune cookie in her mouth, and put the fortune in the front pocket of her purse with the other ones. She chewed with her cheeks puffed out as she consulted the map on her phone and started walking toward the Nob Hill district, trying to figure out how she would best get Leann Penrose to talk to her.

Chapter 29

Sadie’s legs were on fire by the time she reached the boutique. The map might have showed distance, but it did
not
show the hills involved in the walk. She rested against the side of the building to catch her breath before pushing through the front door of Pour Vous. She knew the name was French, but wasn’t sure what it meant. It sounded like “Poor you,” which she didn’t think was the kind of association anyone would want for their clothing store, but, well, Sadie had never been in retail.

The small store was packed with brightly colored purses, scarves, and jewelry. There were some clothing items as well, but the focus seemed to be on accessories. Although Sadie was in no mood to shop, her eyes were drawn to a fabulous silver shoulder bag that she knew would coordinate with practically everything she owned.

“Hello. My name is Tia. May I help you?”

The spell was broken. Sadie looked into the face of a young woman dressed in all white, with shimmery green shoes that matched her eye shadow. She had dark coloring, which made the white and green really pop. Sadie wondered if Tia was the girl she’d talked to on the phone a few minutes earlier and hoped she wouldn’t recognize Sadie’s voice.

“Actually, I was looking for Leann Penrose. Is she here?”

“Sure,” Tia said with a smile. “I’ll get her.” She disappeared, and in her absence, Sadie sidled up to the silver shoulder bag. She lifted it off the rack and inspected it from every angle. It was more of a metallic gray than actual silver, and it had fun detailing that almost looked like flowers but wasn’t too flamboyant.

She put it over her shoulder and noted how perfectly it held against her side. It wasn’t so big as to look like luggage, but it was large enough to hold anything she could need. Sadie took it off her shoulder and looked at it again. For the last few years, she’d favored the cross-body purses that allowed her to be hands-free, but she’d admired bags like this and loved the femininity of this one in particular.

She checked the price tag and felt her eyes widen before immediately shifting into justification for the expense. She wasn’t having a bridal shower, so couldn’t this be a kind of wedding present for herself? But thinking of the wedding made her think of Pete and the weirdness between them that might change everything. She put the purse back.

“Hello?”

Sadie turned and found herself facing the woman she’d just looked up photos of online. Leann was dressed in royal blue skinny jeans and a gold-and-white striped shirt with an orange scarf tied around her neck. Despite the colors being so different and so bright, they all worked somehow. The girl—uh, woman—also looked to be about a size four.

Sadie wondered if anything in this store would even fit her other than the purses, scarves, and jewelry. She held out her hand. “Hi, my name is Sadie Hoffmiller, and I wondered if you had a few minutes to talk to me.”

Leann’s smile remained polite as she shook Sadie’s hand—limply—but there was a glimmer of confusion in her green eyes. “I suppose. How can I help you?”

Sadie paused, and whatever brilliant ideas she’d had about how to approach this woman fizzled out. A customer entered the store and both Sadie and Leann glanced at her before making eye contact again. “Um, well, actually, it’s a little delicate. Could we go somewhere private?”

Leann pulled her eyebrows together, but just a little. A Botox scowl for sure. She also turned her head slightly to the side as though expectant or hesitant, Sadie couldn’t be sure which. Tia began talking with the new customer, leading her to the other side of the store, though that wasn’t very far away.

“Delicate?” Leann repeated in a cautious tone.

“Um.” Sadie took a breath. “I’m Wendy’s sister.”

Leann’s expression turned to surprise—at least as much as it could—and she took a step back. She said nothing, leaving it up to Sadie to continue. “I’m sure I’m the last person you want to talk to, and I have no desire to make things more uncomfortable for you than Wendy has already done, but will you please talk to me?”

“I never met her,” Leann said, the tiniest note of fear in her voice. “I wouldn’t have anything to say to you.”

“Was she sending you letters?”

Leann’s nostrils flared, and she looked around as though making sure no one could overhear them. Then she closed her eyes and lifted a hand to her forehead. “Oh gosh,” she said under her breath, shaking her head as though in disbelief. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at Sadie. “So it
was
her?”

“You didn’t know?”

The bell above the door sounded. Two more young women, laughing with each other, entered the store together. They were slender and sparkly with long hair in loose curls and painted nails that caught the light; Leann’s signature customer, Sadie assumed.

“This isn’t a good time. I work all day today—it’s the weekend.” Leann clasped her hands together in front of her and began scratching one nail with the thumb of her other hand.

“I only have a few questions. We can get through them quickly.” She wanted to add “if you’ll cooperate,” but that sounded a little too threatening. “If I
could
come back later, I would. I’m really not trying to make this hard on purpose, but I have limited time and what I need to talk to you about is
really
important. I need to understand those letters.”

Leann started shaking her head in refusal, leaving Sadie no choice but to pull out the big guns.

“I had lunch with Rodger yesterday, and a man followed me out of the restaurant.”

Leann stopped shaking her head as her jaw went slack.
Bingo.

“I need answers, Leann,” Sadie said in a pleading, but kind, tone. “If I can’t get them from you, I’ll have to ask Rodger, and—”

“No,” Leann said. She bit her lip. “Did you already tell him about the man who followed you?”

Sadie shook her head, relieved that she hadn’t talked to Rodger about Mr. Green Shirt. “I haven’t spoken to Rodger since our lunch.”

“What
did
you and Rodger talk about at lunch?” Leann asked, still anxious but no longer casting her eyes around the store with such furtive discomfort.

“I’d be happy to tell you everything Rodger and I talked about if you’ll help me understand the letters.”

For a moment, it looked as though Leann was vacillating, though Sadie wasn’t convinced it was entirely legitimate since the look in her eye had become calculating. Leann wanted to know what Sadie and Rodger had discussed.

“Okay,” she finally said, then turned toward the cash register where her employee was not disguising her curiosity very well. The three customers in the store were browsing on their own. “Tia, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Watch the store.”

Chapter 30

Maybe we could go to a café or something?” Leann suggested as she and Sadie stepped onto the sidewalk.

“That would be perfect,” Sadie said. She nearly asked if there was a place nearby before realizing that there were a hundred places nearby. It was just a matter of choosing one and walking a few yards in any direction.

Leann nodded. “I could use some coffee.” She led the way to the closest Starbucks—one of an estimated six hundred or so Sadie had seen since she’d arrived.

Leann stepped up to the counter and ordered a nonfat café latte. No wonder she was a size four. Sadie wondered if a nonfat café latte had any flavor at all; she preferred flavor to skinny jeans.

Sadie ordered a vanilla steamer with two percent milk instead of the whole milk she’d have preferred and patted herself on the back for not ordering a chocolate croissant to go with it.

They both stepped aside once they’d ordered and waited for their names to be called when the drinks were ready.

Leann stood beside Sadie with her arms crossed over her chest, more protective than defensive. “How do you know about the letters?” she asked without looking at Sadie. “Did she keep copies?”

Sadie wished Wendy
had
kept copies, but she hadn’t. “No, I didn’t find any copies but I found a letter that hadn’t been sent.” She told Leann what the letter said, and Leann closed her eyes as though struggling to hear it. “Were they all like that?” Sadie asked.

Leann nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Did you believe it?” Why else would Leann have hired a private investigator?

Leann shook her head. “Rodger and I have a good marriage,” she said before letting out a breath that communicated some insecurity. “But those letters were so horrible, I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not it could be true.”

The barista called Leann’s name, and she stepped forward to get her latte. A moment later, Sadie’s name was called. The two women automatically headed back to a small table at the far end of the coffee shop. It couldn’t really be called private, but it would do.

“Does Rodger know about the letters?” Sadie asked once they had sat down and stirred their drinks with the tiny straws.

Leann shook her head and took a sip of her coffee.

“Was the private investigator trying to figure out who was sending the letters?”

“Yeah,” Leann said with a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

“
And
determine if Rodger was having an affair?”

Leann nodded and looked at the cup she was holding in both hands.

“Why did you suspect it was Wendy sending them?”

“One of the first letters said that the only woman he’d ever really loved was Wendy and that he’d go back to her eventually. None of the other letters gave any indication about the identity of who was sending them, but I knew Wendy was crazy enough to do something like that.” She looked up, perhaps to see if Sadie was offended by the accusation, but Sadie just smiled, noting that it was getting easier to hear people tell her hard things.

“Your PI never found out it was her?”

“Not conclusively, no, but he did learn that Rodger and Wendy were talking on the phone nearly every day.” There was a catch in her voice, but something was off about it; it seemed theatrical somehow. Rodger had met Wendy through his talent agency. Maybe he’d met Leann the same way. Then again, maybe it was Sadie’s own cynicism that had her considering such a possibility. It was a reminder, however, for her not to take the things this woman said at face value. There may very well be an agenda that Sadie knew nothing about.

“You didn’t know they were talking?” Sadie asked.

Leann looked at her in surprise. “You did?”

Sadie carefully chose what information to give her, hoping it would bring her more information in exchange. “I talked to Rodger about it at lunch yesterday, but he said he knew Wendy was mentally ill and struggled in winter months, so he talked to her when she called because she had no one else. But he didn’t tell
you
that?” If they were innocent phone calls, why not talk to Leann about it over a glass of wine at the end of the day?