In Death 28 - Promises in Death

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Chinese restaurant. Less than two blocks from Coltraine’s apartment, she thought as she pulled over. “Did you get that list of restaurants?”
    “Yeah.” Peabody pulled out her PPC. “This one has to be on it as we’re nearly to her place. China Garden. It’s the closest coming from this direction. There’s another, the other side of her building, that’s a little closer. Plenty of others in a five-block radius.”
    “She took the stairs. I bet she walked to work when she could. It’s close to a mile, but she needed to learn the streets, and she used the stairs. She’d walk right by here. Even if she took the subway, she’d get off a block down, and still walk by here. Let’s check it out.”
    The narrow dining room sparkled red and gold. Despite the recent consumption of sandwiches, Eve realized it was past the usual lunch hour, still too early for dinner. Still, several tables were occupied by people drinking from small cups or nibbling on mini eggrolls. When they entered, a woman with a short, spiky crown of hair slid out from a corner booth to come forward.
    “Good afternoon. Would you like a table?”
    “No, thanks.” Eve palmed her badge, held it down at her side.
    “Ah.” The woman glanced down, then up again. Her eyes, a sea green in her exotic face, showed both understanding and sadness. “You’re here about Detective Coltraine. Please, come sit. You’ll have tea.”
    She turned, called out a quiet order in musical Chinese as she walked back to the booth. The young woman who’d been sitting with her rose quickly and hurried into the back. “I’m Mary Hon.” She gestured Eve and Peabody to sit. “My family and I were very sorry, very sad, to hear about what happened.”
    “You knew Detective Coltraine.”
    “She was a good customer, a lovely lady. We’re all praying for her safe passage, and praying that her killer is brought to justice.”
    “Did she come in yesterday?”
    “I served her myself.” Mary nodded as the fresh pot of tea, the cups arrived. She poured from the squat white pot. “I thought back after we heard, in case it was important. It was early, before six. Maybe close to six. She told me she’d window-shopped on her way home, and tried on shoes she couldn’t afford. We joked a little about shoes. She didn’t know what she wanted to eat, and asked me to surprise her. Sometimes she did that. I gave her the moo-shu chicken—it was very good last night—and two spring rolls, because I knew she was fond of them.”
    “She came in alone?”
    “Yes. She said she wanted takeout as she’d be eating at home, alone, and doing some work. It was early, as I said, and we weren’t very busy yet. So we talked while the kitchen put her food together. I asked why she didn’t have a date. She told me she had to work, and her boyfriend was also working. Putting in extra time because they were going on a long weekend together soon. She seemed very happy. She took the order and paid, without even looking at what we’d given her. She said good-bye, and she would see me soon. I think she was only here for fifteen minutes. Not long. Not very long.”
    “Did she usually come in alone?”
    “Most always.” Mary lifted her teacup with her elegant hands. She wore a wide gold ring, and her nails were long, painted a glossy rich red. “Once or twice she came with the man she was seeing. She called him Li. They had love all around them. I hope you won’t tell me he’s the one who hurt her.”
    “No, he’s not the one who hurt her. Thank you, Mrs. Hon. You’ve been very helpful.”
    “I’ll miss seeing her.”
    “Sadder and sadder,” Peabody said when they were back on the sidewalk. “I guess you don’t think of how many people you brush up against, or how they might remember you. The guy at your corner deli, or the owner of your favorite take-out spot. The clerk where you usually shop for clothes. Not to sound too Free-Agey, but it matters. It all matters, what we leave

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