A Clean Kill

claimed she didn't need. Then she approached her daughter, not to kiss her, but to smell her like Chinese doctors did to diagnose their patients.

It was her way of saying 'Hello, how are you?' She sniffed April to see if she'd been near a dead person, or had sex, or otherwise been doing something Skinny Dragon didn't want her doing. April dodged the encounter, even though she was married and now had a state-sanctioned right to sex anytime she wanted it. 'You didn't sleep because you're happier in your own bed,' April murmured.

'Worm daughter's health more important than happiness.'

April had never enjoyed being called a worm, and right then the reference to her health was ominous. 'My health is great,' she countered.

Skinny grunted. She was a- small woman with a shrewd expression, no excess flesh anywhere on her body. Her short hair was dyed jet-black and permed into a curly frizz that looked as fake as it was. It was impossible to tell how old she was. This morning she was dressed in loose black Chinese pants and a multicolored knockoff blouse probably made in Taiwan that was supposed to look like an expensive designer silk but didn't come close. Over the blouse was a buttoned-up knitted vest of multicolored yarn that didn't match a single color in the blouse. She could look pretty good when she wanted to, but clearly this wasn't one of those occasions.

'Your happiness is - number one to me, Ma,' April said soothingly.

Skinny shook her head. 'Worm's health more important than my comfort.' That was the theme of the, day.

Oh, God, don't rise to the dig, April told herself. Her mother was an uninvited guest. She'd wheedled a ride. from their tenant, Gao Wan, all the way up here to Hastings, and then he'd left her parents there. They had no way of getting home, so that must have been part of her plan. Now she was insulting the lovely guest room that had two windows, its own bathroom, good feng shui, and brand-new twin beds that didn't sag or squeak like Skinny's terrible old ones at home. But the accommodation wasn't the point. The point was Skinny was meddling again, and April had to put a stop to it.

'What's all this?' she asked, wrinkling her nose at the unusual breakfast. Her mother certainly had been busy. On the counter were bowls of steamed sweet potatoes, golden-fried bean curd, and some kind of hot cereal that looked as gluey as sludge. There vyas also a steaming mug of some milky potion.

'Yin food,' Skinny said proudly.

'Yin food?' April was alarmed. If she got any more yin, she wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

'Good for fluid in womb.'

April was horrified. It made her weak and queasy just hearing the words, and after all her admonitions to herself to keep calm, she erupted. 'You have to stop this. I can take care of myself. I told you that last night. When I'm pregnant, I'll let you know.'

'Let me see your tongue,' Skinny demanded.

'No, you can't see my tongue. You have to go home.'

Skinny ticked off on her fingers the number of months April and Mike had been married,. then moved closer to punch her daughter in the arm.

'Ow.' April particularly hated it when she did that.

'No go home. You have too much yang, ni. Too much bossy. Too much get-up- and-go. Never get pregnant like that.'

Since April had just not gotten up and gone, and now was late because of it, she vibrated with fury. She couldn't believe her mother had come over to help her get pregnant. 'I can't take this,' she said in Chinese. She wanted her privacy.

She and Mike weren't exactly working on having a baby, but they weren't trying to avoid it, either. They just didn't want to make a big thing about it, have everyone get in their faces. No wonder she had nightmares. She heard her husband's happy, post-sex feet skip down the stairs.

'Mamita, how did you sleep?' Mike, too, had the good sense not to try to kiss her.

'Bu hao. Here—' She slapped the mug with the milky potion in his hand. 'Drink this.'

He looked at it blankly. 'This isn't coffee.'

'Good for you,' she said. In Chinese she added, 'No more premature ejaculation.'

'Ma!' April's eyes popped in horror. She'd never heard her mother talk sex like this. Womb fluid! Premature ejaculation! Was she nuts?

Skinny Dragon ignored her. She shook her finger at Mike. 'Just soy milk, good for strength. You need it for honeymoon.'

Dutifully, Mike took a sip. 'No me gusta,'' he murmured to April. He didn't like it.

'He loves it, Ma,' April translated.

Skinny nodded triumphantly and explained that slow sticky sweet potato and sludgy unpolished wheat-bran cereal would lubricate April, while the bean curd and soy milk would energize Mike. Yin and yang foods necessary to fix their problem. Mike got a funny look on his face. He was Spanish, after all, mucho macho in his own gentle way.

'Gotta go, Ma,' April said quickly.

'Murder?' Skinny asked cheerfully.

'Big murder. A young mother was killed. Gao will come and get you. Thank you for the wonderful visit. I'm sure it will help.'

'Not going home. Have work to do.' Skinny put her hands on her hips.

'Ma, you have to go.' April copied her. 'If Dad were up, I'd take you home myself.'

'We're not going, ni. He retired so we could take care of you and the baby,' she said. 'We're staying.'

'Oh, jeez,' Mike muttered. His phone rang and he walked away to answer it.

April took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. 'Tell me Dad did not retire.'

'It's true,' Skinny insisted.

'Are you sure?' It didn't sound like him.

'Well, maybe retire in a week or so.' Skinny

paused, and April could see her forming another sentence. Suddenly the food on the counter didn't look that terrible. So what if it was an unbalanced diet? She was ravenous from all that sex. She took a bite of the sweet potato. It didn't taste like bacon and two fried eggs on toast, but ... it wasn't too bad, either. She tried the bean curd while her mother watched her eat.

Mike returned to the kitchen. Now his heavy footsteps didn't sound so sex-happy. 'Get - your purse, querida. Alison Perkins is dead.'

April forgot her mother and started moving.

Twenty-nine

The fortress like white stucco facade of the modem house where Alison Perkins had lived looked out of place on a block where redbrick apartment buildings dominated, and so did all the police vehicles. April was still reeling from the shock of a second death as Lily Eng caught sight of the car and hurried over before Mike shut down the engine.

'What took you so long?' she complained.

'Hey, Lily.' April shook her head. They'd gotten a late start this morning, and the traffic had been heavy coming in. There was no need to say any of that. Besides, slJ.e was already working the case and didn't feel like chitchat.

They'd both been on the phone all the way into the city. Mike had talked with Sergeant Minnow, who hoped that Alison's death had been natural— a fluke of some kind like a heart attack. She was in bed. No one had touched her. April had called Sergeant Gelo from her cell, and Eloise started her report as soon as she heard her boss's voice.

'We went to Spirit, Ice, and Ramp last night,' she said.