Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

You can’t be serious,” Amir said, his expression clearly showing he knew how deadly serious I was. “Let the police do their jobs. If you really want to know specifics, I can find out for you. Under no circumstances are you to investigate on your own, got it? It could be dangerous.”

Adeena scoffed. “You’re not our dad, Amir Bhai. You can’t tell us what to do.” As his expression darkened, she added, “Plus, how dangerous could it really be? That idiot probably went into diabetic shock and passed out. Or at worst, had an allergic reaction. It’s not like we’re trying to track down a serial killer.”

She turned to me. “Oh, do you remember Robin? My friend from pharmacy school? They work in the lab for the county police department. I’ll ask them to let us know if they hear anything.”

“Awesome. I’ll check in with Ninang June and see what she wants.” Inspiration struck. “Oh, her daughter works at the hospital as an ER nurse. Maybe she was there when he was brought in. I’ll stop by there first to see if she knows anything.”

Adeena said, “Sounds like a plan. I’ll text my friend and let them know what’s up. I need to head back to the cafe though. Kevin’s probably lost without me.” She tossed her undercut, magenta-streaked wavy hair over her shoulder before waving goodbye.

Then it was just me and Amir standing there.

He’d finished eating, so I covered the tray, bussed his dishes, and began wiping off the table. He watched me in silence, seemingly content to just let things stand as they were. Which was fine with me. Conversations with Amir never went where you wanted them to.

As I shrugged on my coat and switched my no-slip work shoes for winter boots, Amir finally spoke up. “If you’re going to go snoop around, I’m coming with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Amir, I appreciate your concern, but I’m just going to the hospital. Half the staff knows me and is related to me in some way. I’ll be fine.”

He put on his coat and wound his scarf around his neck, the ends draping just so down the front. “Not everything’s about you, Lila. If I’m going to help your family, I need all the information I can get. Something tells me,” he eyed me warily, “you might not be as cooperative as I’d like you to be.”

The weight of our history sat in those words, an accusation of all the times he’d wanted me to be more forthcoming, more helpful, more “cooperative,” as he put it.

But I couldn’t. He knew why. And he claimed to understand. Didn’t stop him from trying though. From wanting.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I said, “We should take separate cars. I have errands to run and I’m sure you have other things to do.”

I grabbed one of the foil trays and hurried out before he could naysay that statement. He wasn’t the only one who could hold an unsatisfactory conversation. If there were an Olympic event for avoidance, I probably wouldn’t bring home the gold, but I’d sure as heck place.

---

•   •   •Amir and I managed to catch my cousin Bernadette while she was on break in the cafeteria. I say “cousin,” but we weren’t related by blood. Like most Filipino families, we extended that relationship to any close family friend. So even though I was an only child, I had enough godmothers, cousins, aunties, and uncles to populate a small village. Or at least a relatively small town that began to feel smaller and more suffocating the older I got.

Bernadette stood from the table where she was snacking on shrimp chips and wiped crumbs off her magenta-pink scrubs before giving me her usual friendly greeting. “Hey bruha, about time you came to visit me. You been with Tita Rosie for what, two or three months now? And you’re only coming around now that you need me for something?” She made a noise with her lips and gestured to Amir. “Even Mr. Big-Time Lawyer here knows how to make time for his family. What’s your excuse?”

I pasted a smile on my face as I screamed on the inside. “Missed you too, Ate Bernie. And in case no one told you, I’ve been busy helping Tita Rosie and Lola Flor run the restaurant. Maybe if your ex-boyfriend stopped being trash and came to help his mom, I’d have more free time.” My smile grew bigger. “You talk to Ronnie lately?”

She stiffened, but managed to redirect that barb. “Speaking of ex-boyfriends, seems like yours is dead and the police blame you. What do you think you’ll achieve by coming here? You know I can’t give away confidential patient information.”

It had always been like this between us, ever since we were little. She was only a year older than me, and the aunties were constantly putting us in competition against each other. Not Tita Rosie—she was above all that. But Ninang June was Bernadette’s mother, and you better believe she pitted us against each other. My other godmothers say she and my mom were always trying to show each other up. Guess the rivalry continued beyond the grave.

Amir stepped in to smooth things over. “We know you’re busy, Bernadette, so thanks for taking the time to talk to us. We would never want you to violate HIPAA, but if there’s anything you could tell us, anything at all that would help?”

The stormy expression left her face as she beamed up at him—Amir always had that effect on women. “All I can say, unofficially, is that I was in the ER when he was brought in and it looked like diabetic ketoacidosis.”

“Is that the same as a diabetic coma? What are the symptoms? How could you tell?” I bombarded her with questions.

She looked at me with scorn. “Since I can’t tell you anything that I might’ve seen on his chart, I suggest you google it.”

I sighed, and Bernadette shrugged. “Hey, I take my job seriously and I’m not losing it for you. You want more info, I hope you got an in with the medical examiner’s office.”

Sensing she was out of time (and patience), I played my final card. Handing her the foil tray, I said, “I know, and you’re right. Sorry to bother you like this at work. Here’s some leftover adobo and rice. Figured you’d be hungry and could share it with your shift members. There should’ve been lumpia too, but Amir ate them all.”

She raised her eyebrows, but accepted the obvious peace offering as well as my apology. I think she knew it was supposed to be a bargaining chip and was surprised at the sincerity of the apology. Heck, I was too. Pretty sure we’d never apologized to each other our entire lives. But maybe it was time to bury the hatchet—despite the aunties egging us on, we had no reason to be in competition anymore. We were adults now and didn’t have to keep playing these games. My mom was gone, our pageant and athletics days were behind us, and I could really use an ally.

Friendmight be going a little too far though. Baby steps.

“Why don’t you come over for lunch tomorrow? Before your shift? I’m sure Tita Rosie would be happy to see you, and you know she always makes too much food. I think she’d appreciate the distraction.”

At her confused look, I explained, “Until the medical examiner figures out what killed Derek, the restaurant is shut down. We also have to wait on the health department to check the place out. Knowing Lola Flor, she’ll use this as an opportunity to waste money at the casino, but Tita Rosie will be stuck at home.”

Bernadette’s expression softened. “So that’s why you’re here. You’re trying to help out Tita Rosie.”

I looked her in the eye. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I was never there for my family. We all help in whatever way we can. Not all the Macapagal kids are deadbeats.”

Now it was her turn to flush and apologize. “You’re right. And lunch sounds great, thanks. I’ll do what I can from here, and figure out a legal way to pass along the information.”

Amir handed her his card. “If it helps, you can say that I asked for it in an official capacity. Edwin Long has made accusations against the family, so I’m representing them. Anything you say to me will be confidential.”

I glared at him. How dare he railroad me? I was hoping that having her over in an attempt to bond would also shake out some new info, but there was no way she’d tell me anything if she could just report to Amir with no repercussions. And he knew that. This was his attempt to get me to stop investigating on my own. I’d planned on having him come with me to Ninang June’s, but forget that. If he wanted to know what she had to say, he could charm her on his own time.

“You got my number, Ate. Feel free to text me whenever. You want Tita Rosie to make anything in particular?”

“It’s freezing lately, so maybe some kind of soup? And something easy to pack for my baon to take with me to eat at work.”

I laughed. “I’ll let her know. See you tomorrow.”

She waved us off, and I left without waiting for Amir. He caught up with me near the elevators.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I wouldn’t even look at him. “Don’t play innocent with me. You know what you did.”

“You mean help you out? She clearly wasn’t comfortable talking to you, so I made it easier to pass on information.”

We entered the blessedly empty elevator and he continued, “I told you to leave it alone, you wouldn’t, so I’m assisting you the only way I know how. What’s your problem?”

I knew he was right and I needed his help and that upset me even more. “If you really wanted to assist, you would’ve asked me how you could help. Did you ask me? No, you just did what you wanted since you always know best.”

He looked away, running his hands over his perfectly coiffed hair. “You sound like Adeena.”

I shrugged. “Adeena’s right.”

We lapsed into silence yet again as the doors opened and we stepped out. This uncomfortable quiet between us was fast becoming the norm.

His phone rang, the generic Ring! Ring! from landlines past. Ugh, even his ringtone was old-fashioned.

He checked the screen. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later though, OK?”

“Just text me.”

He smiled. “Still hate talking on the phone?”

I smiled back. “Always.”

I let him walk to his car ahead of me, claiming to need to use the bathroom. We waved goodbye to each other, and I stood watching until he got in his car and drove away. I headed back the way I came, but turned down a different hall and stopped in front of an office door. The nameplate read:

ASSISTANT ADMINISTRATOR

JANET SPINELLI

Amir may have gotten his hooks into one of my sources, but he’d never figure this one out.

A girl’s got to have some secrets now, doesn’t she?