Chapter 28
We pause at the entrance to the crowded bar, and William squeezes my hand.
“Let’s do this,” he says. I nod. I feel like I’ve been crying for hours, even though I haven’t. William assures me that I look fine.
People seated on high barstools chat around tall, dark, wooden tables. The bar is on one side, with shelves of glasses and alcohol bottles against exposed brick. The glass glints under the lights. Framed movie and play posters decorate the walls. I’ve been here with Uncle Tony. Show tunes play in the background.
I don’t spot Miju immediately, and we squeeze between two tables to get a better view of the interior. She’s in the very back with a few other people. Conversations buzz, laughter breaking out in one corner.
“I’ll get drinks,” William says. “What do you want?”
“White wine.”
I walk over to Miju, and she jumps up to hug me. We discuss the improved state of my foot.
She sways and then whispers loudly, “I’m a little drunk.”
Her friend says, “She’s a lot drunk. Miju can’t hold her liquor at all.”
“Erica, Andy, this is Miranda.” Miju gestures to me.
William joins us with our drinks. I slide onto a barstool by the table. The wooden seat is worn and smooth. My white wine is tart and fruity, refreshing.
“And you know William,” I say.
“William? But I thought you were engaged.” She looks at me. “Did you start dating after our last gig?”
I nod. “It turns out he wasn’t engaged.”
“That was just a joke,” William says. “Nice to see you again.”
“I can’t believe it. Both you and Lena hooked up with clients. What am I doing wrong? You’re so lucky.” She swivels around on her bar seat to gaze coquettishly at William. “Did Miranda tell you we were ogling you?”
“No.” He smiles at me. “She forgot to mention that.”
“He doesn’t need to know that,” I say. “Where is Lena?”
“She’s out with Edmund. She was meeting him after her show,” Miju says. She puts her hand on William’s arm. He moves his arm away, glancing at me.
I’m not jealous of Miju. She’s attractive, but I don’t see her as a threat. Kiyoko was a very specific threat. I’m not irrationally jealous. But then I focus on what she just said.
“Edmund?”
“Her boyfriend—the client she started dating.”
“His name is Edmund?” William asks. We look at each other. It couldn’t be our Edmund. He’s in love with Annabelle. But he did use their catering services, and he told me he was dating someone. Still, if he is dating Lena, then he has less of a motive for striking out at me.
“And is he as cute as William?” I pat William’s arm as he ducks his head.
“Well, it all depends on your type. Let me see if I have a picture of them.” Miju looks through the photos on her phone. “Here they are. He’s objectively good-looking, isn’t he?”
I stare at the picture of our Edmund with Lena.
That links Edmund to Lena at the party. It’s Edmund. I knew it was Edmund. Did he hide the paintings in their cart? Is Vinnie in on it too? They said Vinnie was in the kitchen with them. How to ask?
William grips my thigh.
“Is Lena going to join us with Edmund tonight?” I ask.
“No, I think they’ll just head over to his place,” Miju says. “In the beginning, we all hung out a lot, but since Lena has shows most nights, I don’t think she gets to see him that much. And she said he only wants to see her. Which she thought was romantic, but I think it’s unduly possessive. I’ve barely seen her since they started dating.”
That was very much Edmund. He did not want to share Annabelle when we were growing up.
“I hate when I lose my best friend to the guy she’s dating,” I say.
“Yeah, especially when I’m not sure the guy is worth it,” Miju says.
“Why don’t you think he’s worth it?” I ask.
She winces, but she shakes her head. “No reason. It’s nothing.”
If she doesn’t like Edmund, we may have an opening. Was Edmund in the kitchen when Vinnie was there?
“I met with that lecherous art dealer Vinnie.” I grimace and shiver in revulsion. “He rubbed my back inappropriately. Did he do anything like that to you?”
William turns his head sharply toward mine.
Miju’s eyes widen. “He did that to me too! I told Lena that.”
“Did you tell the host?” Did they tell Edmund? Edmund does not like sharing. How can I get Miju to admit that Edmund was in the kitchen with them?
“No.” She shakes her head.
“I wished I’d brought William with me when I met with Vinnie.” I link my arm through William’s. “William can look quite fierce when he’s being protective.”
“Shush.” She puts her finger to her lips and peers into my face. “That’s what we did. Edmund was at that party, so Lena told Edmund, and then he hung out with us in the kitchen.”
“Did Edmund know the people throwing the party?” I force myself to relax.
William is tense next to me, leaning forward, but he’s not stopping me.
Miju nods. “They recommended Kimberly’s Catering to him.”
I’m stuck. I don’t know what to ask. William gives me an encouraging nod.
“I hope he helped with cleanup.”
Miju nods. “He did.”
Did he disappear into the storage room and come back with some paintings that he then stuck into your food cart?is what I want to ask. My boss at Christie’s always said, Think of it like an onion and peel away each layer. And keep it light.
“Did he man the kitchen and do the dishes? William is the cook in our relationship and I’m the dishwasher.”
“He left.” Miju laughs. “I don’t think Edmund is the dishwasher type.”
He’s definitely not.
“But he met Lena on the street outside with the cart. He waited with the cart, like you did, while Lena got the car and drove it around to the front of the building.”
Lena never mentioned to Officer Johnson that Edmund helped her with the cart. I sip my wine. She felt the need to hide that.
“That’s a high boyfriend standard. Should I come help you next time you have a catering gig?” William asks. “Did you stay upstairs? Or were you with them?”
“I was still upstairs, cleaning up,” she says.
Behind Miju is a framed movie poster of Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Penelope does a lot of playacting when she writes. Actresses must do the same.
“My writer friend acts out scenes to figure out the positioning and the emotions she feels doing the scenes. One time she had to steal a painting, and she practiced that by stealing a painting at her boyfriend’s house. How’s Lena’s role as a thief going? Did she practice stealing to get into the role?”
Miju’s eyes widen. “How did you know?”
“I was at that party where the paintings were stolen,” I say. “Lena stole the paintings, didn’t she?”
I hear William’s indrawn breath, but I keep my eye contact with Miju.
Miju’s face turns bright red. “She was just practicing. She returned the paintings, obviously.”
I’m shaking. Lena stole the paintings.
“Of course.” I can’t believe I can say that so smoothly. “At Edmund’s suggestion?”
“Yes. He said she could practice—that the paintings were in the closet, wrapped up, so nothing could happen to them. She was a bit disappointed that it wasn’t more cloak-and-dagger and that she didn’t have to take them off the wall,” Miju says. “But she returned them. She’s not the one who stole the paintings in real life.”
William’s hand grips my thigh. I cover his hand with mine.
“Did you help her take the paintings?”
“No.” Miju shakes her head emphatically. “I didn’t even know she was doing it. She only told me all about it afterward. After the police questioned us. She knows I would’ve told her not to do that. I can’t believe Edmund told her it was okay.”
“Why did she tell you then?” William asks softly.
“She wanted to know if I’d seen anything. She was so proud of herself for stealing them without anyone noticing.” Miju rolls her eyes.
“How come you didn’t tell the police about the practicing?” I ask.
“Edmund said we shouldn’t. That it would just make Lena look guilty when she hadn’t actually stolen the paintings. And divert attention from the real thief. But I really would have preferred to tell the police. She only told me after the questioning. I wasn’t even involved. But I’m worried that Edmund gave her, and me, the wrong advice. I read this article that people get prosecuted for the cover-up.” Miju wrings her hands.
“How does she know she returned them?” William asks.
“She said she put them back in the closet,” Miju says. “I mean, first she loaded up the car with all the stuff from the cart, but she left the paintings in the cart. Then she took the cart back to the apartment and put the paintings back.”
“But you didn’t see any of it?”
“No, I was still upstairs, packing up the rest of the stuff. She brought back the catering cart. I loaded it up again with what remained, and we left.” Miju suddenly looks as if she’s sobering up. Her eyes widen. “You guys look really serious. We should have told the police, right?”
“I think so.” My hands curl into fists on my lap under the table. If they had confessed, maybe we would have found the paintings immediately. I glance at William. He rubs my back.
“Can I get you guys another round?” William asks.
Everyone gives their drink orders.
“I’ll help you carry them,” I say to William. “We’ll be right back.”
“So it’s Edmund,” I say when we’re at the bar.
“You did suspect him from the beginning.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t tell the police this,” I say. “How much trouble are they going to be in?”
“I don’t know,” William says. “He must have switched the paintings with the framed photos when she went to get the car.”
“He probably had his car parked near there with the two framed photos that he then gave Annabelle to carry out. We have to tell Officer Johnson, but I hate to get Miju in trouble.”
“They’re a bunch of nitwits who helped Edmund steal your painting and sabotage your career. I wouldn’t feel too sorry for them,” William says. “Especially since they didn’t come clean with the police when they had the chance.”
“That’s a bit harsh.” I agree with him, but it still worries me to find William so uncompromising about nitwit moves. “Should we tell her more forcefully that she and Lena should tell the police? It would be better for them if they volunteered it.”
“Then they’ll discuss it with Edmund, and he’ll know we know. Let’s tell Officer Johnson first.”
The bartender asks him his order and William says, “One white wine, four drafts, and one ginger ale.”
“Okay. After we drop off the drinks, why don’t you call Officer Johnson while I hang out with Miju? We don’t want her calling Lena.” I look back. “We probably shouldn’t have left her.”
Some guy is hitting on Miju, and she smiles up at him.
“You’re being very friendly to her, considering,” William says.
“Miju didn’t steal the paintings. And I do like her. And I want her to tell the truth to the police. If I rage or scream at her, she might back off. I have to pretend it’s not my painting—that it’s just a painting I’m investigating.” I stare down at the counter. My body is shaking again as the adrenaline departs. We’ve figured it out. Edmund did steal my painting.
William tilts my head up so he can look me in the eye. “You were brilliant.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.
“I’m surprised you didn’t cover my mouth.”
“I didn’t expect you to actually ask her if Lena stole the paintings. I wasn’t even sure where you were going. But I could tell you knew where you were going.”
I touch his face. “Thank you for that.”
The bartender places the drinks in front of William, and he hands over his credit card.
“I’m so happy that we know.” This immense relief that we proved it is Edmund floods my body. “And to be honest, I’m a bit wiped out emotionally. After last night and then seeing that forgery of my painting.”
William puts his arm around me, and I nestle into him for a moment, my chest expanding with warmth that this guy is mine. After picking up the drinks from the bar counter, we walk back and distribute them to the table. Then William says he has to take a call and leaves.
“How did you guys get together?” Miju asks.
We should have prepared for this question. If I hadn’t been thrown by seeing the forgery of my painting …
“I ran into him at an art exhibit, and we started talking. And I don’t know, we clicked and it progressed pretty quickly from there.” Maybe too quickly?
William comes back and slips his arm around me. He leans over to kiss my neck. I glance at him. He hasn’t been this publicly affectionate before.
He smiles at me and then turns to Miju. “We have to go home now. It was great seeing you again.”
“Go, go,” Miju says. “Just leave me to be jealous.”
We take off, and William says, “Officer Johnson said he’ll call them in for questioning again tomorrow. But he’s still not sure it’s enough to get a warrant. He’s worried about Miju telling Lena and Edmund tonight.”
“Shouldn’t we tell her not to tell them?”
“It doesn’t look like she’s about to call them,” he says.
“Let me ask Tessa.”
Tessa says we should tell Miju to call Officer Johnson immediately so she comes in before Lena and Edmund.
“If she was my client, that’s what I’d tell her to do,” Tessa says.
“Even though Lena is her friend?” I ask.
“With friends like those, who needs enemies?” Tessa says.
I walk back to Miju. The guy has his arm around her.
“Miju, can we talk a minute?” I ask.
“Now?” Miju asks.
The guy says, “Right now?”
I nod. Miju gets up from her seat and comes over with me to a corner in a dimly lit hallway near the bathroom.
“My roommate is a corporate litigator, and I told her your story,” I say. “She thinks you should call Officer Johnson immediately. Here, talk to her.” I hand Miju my phone.
Miju talks to Tessa, paling as she does. “Do I need a lawyer?” She listens intently and then reels off her number. “Okay, thanks.”
She hangs up the phone and gives it to me. “She’s going to ask some of her defender friends if they can represent me. She’ll call me back.” Miju swallows. “Thank you.”
We stop by Uncle Tony’s on the way back to my place and update them on everything that happened.
“I never liked that guy,” Takashi says.
“That pretentious, uptight jerk.” Uncle Tony jumps up and paces. “I think there’s one thing you haven’t updated me on.”
“What?” I ask.
“You two are dating.”
“Yes,” we both say at the same time.
Uncle Tony chuckles. “I told you if we warned them away from each other, they’d get together even quicker.” He sits back down next to Takashi.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask. “I thought you were serious. I tried really hard not to call William.”
“Is that why you didn’t call me?” William glances at me.
“Yes, I was being noble.” I hold his hand.
“And you missed her, right?” Uncle Tony asks.
“I did,” William says.
“That’s how I got Takashi,” Uncle Tony says proudly. “I pursued him very earnestly, and he said he didn’t think we suited …”
“I didn’t quite say that,” Takashi says.
“You did. I was devastated,” Tony says. “But I respected your wishes and made no more effort to contact you.”
“And then I missed you,” Takashi says.
Tony smiles. “And then you missed me.”
“And I know you hate being dictated to, William.” Takashi grins. “So as soon as I said you should stay away, I figured you’d do the opposite.”
“I hope that’s not my only appeal for you,” I say.
William’s thumb is rubbing circles in the palm of my hand. “Definitely not.”
“A toast to love.” Tony raises his glass.
We all drink.
“But Miju’s confession is still not enough to get a warrant?” Tony asks. “What if Edmund destroys the painting? He’s going to destroy any evidence. We really need to find the Kimimoto. The seller has given us until this Saturday to confirm we can buy it.”
“I have the key to Edmund’s apartment,” I say. “His cleaning service comes tomorrow. We could pretend to be part of the cleaning crew and check out his apartment before his cleaners arrive.”
“Shouldn’t we just leave this to Officer Johnson?” William asks. Poor William, stuck again playing the sane voice of reason.
“No,” the three of us say.