I stood up, collecting the empty tray. “Are you sure, Tita? Maybe cooking will make you feel better?”

She smiled at me, but her heart wasn’t in it. “I just don’t think I can face them right now. They know why I was called to the police station.”

“But they don’t think—”

She shushed me. “It doesn’t matter. I think we all need some time, diba? Just help your lola with dinner. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

I wandered out to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Cate and my grandmother were no longer there, but Mrs. Long still sat at the kitchen table, swirling a teaspoon through her half-finished cup of coffee.

“How is she?” Mrs. Long asked.

“Not great,” I admitted. “But the same could be said for all of us, I’m sure.”

She reached out for a piece of pandesal and began tearing it to shreds. “I hope she doesn’t think . . . she knows that I don’t blame her for . . .”

I placed the clean dishes in the rack next to the sink. “I’m not going to lie, she’s worried about what you must think of her. Knowing that she was being questioned for your husband’s murder.”

Finished with my task, I looked over and noticed she wasn’t eating. I had no idea what happened to the cookies I’d brought her, but a loaf of banana bread sat wrapped on the counter. I cut a thick slice and placed it in front of her.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’d want to stay here with us. I know you said you wanted to save money, but I’m being accused of killing your son. My aunt is now a suspect in your husband’s murder. How could you possibly—”

“Because you didn’t do it.” Mrs. Long kept her eyes on her plate. “We both know that.”

“But how—”

“This banana bread was Derek’s favorite, did you know that?” Tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to smile at me. “I know he gave you problems. But he really did care about you. Everything that happened these last few months . . . you have to understand, it wasn’t him.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just made a noncommittal sound as I refilled my mug.

“I have a confession to make.” Mrs. Long finally looked up and met my eyes. “Those drugs in your locker. I think I know how they got there.”

I dropped the knife I’d used to cut the banana bread, narrowly missing my foot. “How did you know about that?”

She smiled sadly. “Honey, the newspapers have been following my son’s case very closely. And they are not particularly kind to you.”

I cursed the Shady Palms News team out in my head with every profane term I could think of, inventing some of my own when it didn’t feel like enough. “Oh. I see. So, um, how did that bag end up in my locker?”

She dropped her gaze again. “After Derek . . . passed, I went through his belongings to see if there was anything I could donate. I found that bag under one of the loose floorboards in his room.” She smiled to herself. “He didn’t think I knew about his secret hiding spot, but of course I did. Anyway, I brought it to Ed and demanded he tell me what he knew about it.”

The thudding of my heart echoed in my ears. “And? What did he say?”

“Just that he’d take care of it and to shut up and mind my own business. And when you got arrested, he seemed awfully pleased with himself. Then I remembered he must have keys to your restaurant since he owns the building. And that he’s been wanting to kick your family out for a while now.”

My head was spinning with all the info she was dropping on me. “Mrs. Long, why are you telling me all this? Not that I don’t appreciate it, but he was your husband. And I’ve been accused of killing your son.”

“Oh, honey. We know who killed Derek. Don’t we? You must know who really killed my son.” Her eyes watered as she pushed away from the table and fled the room, leaving me with nothing but unasked questions and an uneasy feeling in my heart.

Chapter Forty

Before I could follow her to question her on that parting statement, my phone rang. The number flashing across the screen made my heart beat faster.

“Adeena?”

“Lila! I heard about Auntie Rosie being taken in for questioning. Is she OK?”

I glanced over at the door that stayed steadfastly shut. “For now. But Detective Park says he needs to talk to her again tomorrow. I think he’s just waiting for one more piece of evidence to become the nail in her coffin.”

“That’s why I called. My lab friend told me they finally got the results on what killed Derek.”

She paused for a moment, driving my blood pressure up five points. “Adeena, I hope you realize I am not in the mood for a dramatic reveal. Can you just tell me what you found out?”

“Sorry about that, Kevin was asking me something. Hold on.” I heard her yell in the background that she’d finish testing the new decaf beans and would lock up when she was done. “OK, I’m back. He died from nicotine poisoning.”

“Nicotine poisoning? What about the arsenic?”

“My friend said the arsenic in his system was a small amount that’d been building up for a long time, likely months. If it had continued, he probably would’ve died from it, but the amount in his system wasn’t lethal.”

“But the amount of nicotine was? How is that even possible?”

“It’s not common but totally possible. Not by like, smoking a ton of cigarettes and then dying from that. My friend’s theory is that he either ingested liquid nicotine or received an injection.”

I paced around the room, trying to figure out my next move. “Liquid nicotine? Where could someone even buy that? Maybe if I narrow down the possible suppliers, I can figure out who bought it.”

I heard a door slam in the background as Adeena said, “It’s super easy to get your hands on and I’m pretty sure I know who got it. I’m gonna call Amir in a minute. Why don’t you meet me at . . . hold on a sec, I think there’s someone outside.” There was a brief pause and I heard Adeena’s voice again, but slightly muted as if she were holding the phone away from her mouth. “Hey, what’re you doing here? You’re not supposed to—AAAAH!”

“Adeena? Adeena!” I screamed into the phone.

There was the sound of heavy breathing for a moment and then nothing. She was gone.

* * *

? ? ?

I sped over to Java Jo’s, calling Adeena’s phone again and again but it didn’t even ring—just went straight to voice mail. Either her phone died or someone turned it off.

The first option was unlikely, the second terrifying. I pushed my ancient SUV even faster and was trying her number one last time, when suddenly my tires hit a patch of ice. My car slid across the road and I dropped my phone on the floor as I grabbed the wheel with both hands to course-correct, but my tires couldn’t seem to grip the pavement. My car fishtailed for a moment before skidding into a ditch on the side of the road.

Luckily, there was no one else on the street and I was relatively unscathed. I knew I had to hurry, but I sat for a minute, my hands gripping the wheel as I struggled to get my breathing and heart rate under control. Once my hands stopped shaking, I inched the car back onto the road and headed toward Java Jo’s at a safer speed.

I finally pulled into the plaza lot, not even caring that my haphazard park job cut across two parking spots. All I could focus on was hurrying over to Java Jo’s and checking on Adeena. The lights were off in the main part of the shop, but I tugged on the door anyway.

Locked.

She did say she was closing up, but she also said she’d be there testing the decaf beans. So where was she? Had she been dragged away? I looked around, but most of the snow had melted over the week, leaving icy patches here and there, but no footprints to follow. I turned toward my car, ready to find my phone and call 911, when something glittered at the edge of my periphery. I glanced around and spotted a shiny object lying on the cafe floor. I cupped my hands around my eyes and leaned against the glass door to get a better look inside. A golden bangle was on the floor a few steps from where I stood.

Adeena’s golden bangle. I would’ve recognized it anywhere.

Even though the door was locked, the lights in the back were on, which meant someone was probably inside. I knocked on the door, carefully at first, then increasing in frequency and power until I could hear the bangs of the door echoing in the mostly empty parking lot.

Finally, someone popped into view.

“Kevin!” I slammed my hands on the window until he opened the door.

“What the hell, Lila? Why’re you trying to break down my door?”

I pushed him aside as I rushed in. “Have you seen Adeena?”

“Not since she finished her shift. Why?”

Heart pounding, I stooped to pick Adeena’s bangle off the floor and held the familiar object in my palm, the tinkling of its bells filling me with dread. I looked around the room but could find no other trace of Adeena there. The only activity was a small pot of coffee brewing in the decaf corner. So she’d started the pot . . . and then what?