Yuki toyed with the ring on her left finger. “I love my husband. We have a beautiful daughter together. A good life, though it’s quieter than I’d like. So no, I wouldn’t have gone with him.”

“You realize that makes you look even guiltier, right? Not only were you having an affair with him, but you were afraid to break it off in case there was retaliation. It’d be easy to build a case saying you tried to end it, he threatened to destroy your business, and you killed him. Or maybe your husband found out about you two and did the deed himself.”

Yuki laughed again. “Akio? Poison someone? No, for all his faults, he would never resort to something like that. He’s all about the idea of a fair fight.”

“Then what about you?”

“Me? You already know I was nowhere near your restaurant the day he was killed. In fact, I hadn’t seen him in days. How could I have slipped him poison?”

I was grasping at straws now. “Maybe you paid someone to do it?”

Yuki smiled that same smile I saw when we shared a cell. The one that spread soft and slow across her face, never quite reaching her eyes. “So now I’m hiring a contract killer? And who is this mystery assassin?”

“Um . . .”

Before I could stun her with a brilliant deduction, Marcus’s number flashed across my screen. He’d gone silent on me after he’d helped clean the restaurant, so I wondered if this was a social call or if there was a big enough break in the case to risk Detective Park’s wrath.

I held up a finger to signal to Yuki that I needed to answer it. “Hey, Marcus, what’s up?”

His words came in a rush, no pauses or breaths taken between words, and I struggled to follow along.

“You gotta get over here now. Tita Rosie’s been brought in for questioning but I can’t tell you any more since someone’s watching me gotta go bye!”

It took me a few seconds to realize he’d hung up before my brain could even give context to his words. Tita Rosie? Being questioned? Oh Lord, what now?

I looked at Yuki. “Gotta go. Thanks for meeting with me. If you remember anything—”

She nodded, then turned back toward Derek’s casket. “I’ve got your number.”

I ran out to my car, dialing Amir on the way. He picked up on the first ring. “I know, I’m heading to the station right now. See you there.”

I gripped the wheel but took care not to push the speed limit too much. There were more cops here than you’d expect for a town of our size and they were only too happy to slap you with a ticket over any little infraction. As much trouble as my family seemed to be in, legally and financially, I figured adding a speeding ticket on top of it was not going to do me any favors.

Still, I made it to the station in record time. I burst through the doors, looking around wildly for Amir and my aunt.

“Lila!”

I whirled around at the sound of Marcus’s voice. “What’s going on? Where’s Tita Rosie? Why is she even here?”

He held his hands out, trying to get me to lower my voice. “Hey, chill, Amir’s with her right now, so she should be OK.”

I took a deep breath to force down the panic that had been rising since his phone call. “OK, but why is she here? Why does she even need a lawyer?”

Marcus put a hand on my shoulder and leaned down to be eye level with me. It was a gesture meant to convey support and empathy, but it only filled me with dread. Marcus, little It-Wasn’t-Me Marcus Marcelo who, when caught stealing a pack of cookies from the store tried to pin it on me, was risking his job for my sake. Which meant that whatever he was about to tell me was going to hurt. A lot.

“Don’t freak out, but . . . the knife that killed Mr. Long? It belonged to Tita Rosie. They’re holding her on suspicion of his murder.”

I didn’t realize I was slipping to the floor till Marcus grabbed me and guided me to a seat. “I’m sorry, what? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Marcus helped me sit then took a seat farther down to give me some space. “I know. And trust me, Detective Park was not happy about it. The sheriff’s gotten involved. Been riding him hard to close this case. Seems he was poker buddies with Mr. Long and wants justice. Plans on holding a ‘press conference’ soon.”

We both snorted since the only press we had was the local newspaper staffed by three or four people and whatever high school intern they could trick into free labor by claiming it’d look good on their college applications. A town of fewer than twenty thousand didn’t yield a ton of newsworthy events, so they’d been going hard on the Derek Winters case. I would’ve canceled our subscription long ago, since any publication that allowed Derek to write that garbage wasn’t worth reading, but the pages were great for cleaning windows and glass. Left them nice and streak-free.

I sobered up at the thought of Detective Park interrogating Tita Rosie, pushing and prodding her until he got what he wanted. Amir was good, but with Sheriff Lamb involved, it was only a matter of time before the police department got desperate. Heck, they already were if they thought Tita Rosie had anything to do with a man’s death. In a twisted way, I understood their reasoning when it came to me as a suspect. I’d even understand if they thought it was Lola Flor. Enough people had been on the wrong side of a tirade from her to know what her temper was like. But my aunt? Not in a million years.

I tried to think the way Amir would, how he would ask questions to not only get information but seed doubt. “So one of Tita Rosie’s knives is the murder weapon. Do they have anything else to tie her to the crime?”

“Lila, I’ve already told you too much. The fact that I called you to tell you she was here is enough to get me suspended.”

I waved my hand. “As long as no one saw you, we can say I’m here because of Amir. I called him to ask about Adeena, and he happened to be on his way here to represent Tita Rosie. Not a problem.”

He sighed. “I don’t know the specifics, but I think there was a witness. Someone saw her at the Longs’ house earlier today. We don’t know his exact time of death yet, but she was there in that general time frame.”

“Who was the witness?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know or won’t tell me?”

“Lila—”

“He can’t tell you because it would mean a suspension. Isn’t that right, C.O. Marcelo?” Detective Park said, coming out from one of the rooms with Amir and Tita Rosie.

Marcus shot up from his seat. “Sir, I haven’t told her anything. I was just trying to comfort her, I swear.”

Detective Park sighed. “How kind of you. Anyway, relax, Ms. Macapagal. As you can see, your aunt is just fine. In fact, she’s free to go home.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

He shrugged. “As long as she comes back tomorrow to answer more questions. No reason to hold her here overnight.”

Before I could ask anything else, Amir stepped in. “Yes, you’re so magnanimous, Detective. Lila, we should go. Auntie Rosie is a bit tired.”

I fought the urge to let him know he wasn’t the boss of me, but he was right. Tita Rosie came first. Any arguments between us could come later.

I pulled my aunt’s arm through mine and guided her toward the door. “Come on, Tita Rosie. Let’s rest a bit and then I can prepare some meryenda for everyone, OK?”

“Good idea.” Tita Rosie patted my hand and slowly withdrew her arm. “I’m just . . . tired. So tired, anak.”

She sighed, then pulled her shoulders back, lifted her head, and marched toward the door, disappearing outside without looking back at the rest of us. Which was good because she didn’t see the tears spilling down my cheeks as I watched her walk away, so strong and so alone.

Chapter Thirty-nine

After thanking Amir for his help, Tita Rosie and I went home. She headed straight to her room without talking to anyone, and was still holed up there, hours later.

I’d taken a short nap, but woke up more restless than ever. I made my way to the kitchen and witnessed a true sign that something was wrong in the Macapagal household: Cate and Mrs. Long were attempting to make their own coffee.

“Hey, Lila. Sorry for making ourselves a little too comfortable in your kitchen, but we didn’t want to disturb anyone,” Cate said, as she went through just about every drawer and cabinet we had.

I forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry our hospitality is a bit lacking at the moment. It’s been a strange day.”

To hide my discomfort at finding near strangers rifling around my kitchen, I made a big show of preparing some snacks since it was time for meryenda. Too tired to come up with more elaborate fare, I toasted some pandesal and set out cheese, butter, and coconut jam. In deference to our guests, I also included some store-bought jars of peanut butter and strawberry jam in case the coconut was too intense for them.