Fortune Cookie (Culinary Mystery) by Josi S. Kilpack Page A

of the fire,” Pete said. “But they agreed that if it had been left on it would account for the lack of other . . . smells.”
    Sadie furrowed her brow for a moment as she considered all the odd details. “Could they tell from the 911 call if it was a male or female caller?”
    “Female.”
    “Maybe someone killed Wendy, thought the body would be found sooner, and when it wasn’t, they had to speed up the process,” Sadie suggested.
    “If it was just discovery they were worried about, why light the fire rather than just call in about the body?” Pete asked.
    “And if they had reason to want to destroy evidence,” Ji added, “why wait a month to do it?”
    “Exactly,” Pete said, nodding toward Ji.
    Sadie tried not to feel jealous of their friendliness as she pressed on. “And how is it that no one reported her missing or thought to check up on her until that fire? A month is such a long time.”
    “From all accounts, she had harassed everyone in the building to the point where everyone avoided her,” Pete said.
    Sadie nodded. Lopez had pretty much told her that during their first phone call.
    Pete continued, “The police think that she rarely went anywhere the last year or so. She had a laundry service and grocery delivery that came about once a week. Most of the tenants hadn’t seen Wendy for weeks before she died so they didn’t notice when she wasn’t around.”
    “But an entire month? What about the apartment next door?”
    Ji chimed in. “Mr. Pilings told me that the tenant in number six moved out in May—before Wendy died. Wendy was the only person on the floor.”
    “And if she wasn’t coming and going much, someone on her floor would be the only person really aware of her,” Pete said, nodding. “One of her downstairs neighbors put a cardboard box under her mail slot to hold the excess when it was no longer fitting in her slot. They went to great lengths to avoid having to deal with her.”
    “Which brings us back to why someone would light her on fire,” Sadie said. “It’s in the murderer’s best interest to let as much time go by as possible before an investigation begins, so why would they return and, in essence, alert the police?”
    “Why is it in their best interest to let more time go by?” Ji asked.
    “Details get forgotten by witnesses,” Pete said. “Especially if they don’t realize they witnessed anything related to a crime. Evidence breaks down; video camera footage is erased.” Pete looked at Sadie and then Ji. “The police are checking pawnshops for the items missing from the apartment. If they were pawned prior to her body being discovered, it could indicate that a robbery had occurred closer to her time of death. But the prevailing theory is that the robbery is probably connected to the fire, not Wendy’s death.”
    “But they ruled the death to have been natural causes,” Sadie reminded him, trying to keep everything straight.
    “Inconclusive,” Pete said. “But still suspicious.”
    Sadie furrowed her brow again, trying to make the pieces fit. However, they didn’t fit. If whoever killed Wendy was afraid of being discovered, why not destroy the evidence immediately? If, on the other hand, Wendy’s death and the fire were somehow separate, then . . . well, what possible reason was there to burn the body unless it was to alert the police or destroy evidence?
    “Huh,” Sadie said, glancing at Ji, who seemed to be just as deep in thought. He took another bite of his cookie, reminding Sadie that she hadn’t even tried hers.
    Sadie took a bite, expecting a basic chocolate cookie with Ghirardelli chips in it, but froze when the level of chocolate contained in this cookie exploded into something far different than she’d anticipated. She pulled the cookie back to look at it and then chewed ever so slowly, ever so deliberately. It was rich like a brownie, chewy like a cookie, but it also melted in her mouth like a truffle. The crystals on top