Egg Drop Dead: A Noodle Shop Mystery

By Vivien Chien

In the fifth in Vivien Chien's Noodle Shop delectable mystery series, Egg Drop Dead, the Ho-Lee Noodle House takes its business to the next level—only to end up in hot water.

It was supposed to be a fancy, intimate dinner party by the pool. Instead, Lana Lee’s first-ever catering event turns into full-course madness when a domestic worker is found dead. Is the party’s host Donna Feng, the sweet-and-sour owner of the Asia Village shopping plaza where Ho-Lee is situated, somehow to blame? That’s what Lana—whose plate is already plenty full with running the restaurant, pleasing her often-disapproving mother, and fretting over her occasionally-serious boyfriend Detective Adam Trudeau—must find out.

Before the police arrived at the crime scene, Donna had entrusted an odd piece of evidence to Lana: a thumb drive shaped like a terra-cotta soldier. Now it’s up to Lana to lead her own investigation, digitally and in real life, into a world of secrets involving Donna’s earlier life in China, whether the victim had a dark agenda, and if the killer is still out there. . .and plans to strike again.

“Endearing…will appeal to fans of Chris Cavender’s Pizza Lovers mysteries.”—Booklist

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Feb 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781250228338

Vivien Chien

VIVIEN CHIEN (she/her) was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio where she grew up in a mixed-race home, making for some very interesting cultural experiences. She found her love of books and the written word at an early age while writing short stories about her classmates in elementary school. When she’s not writing, Vivien enjoys frequenting local Asian restaurants, frolicking in bookstores, and searching for her next donut. She is the author of the Noodle Shop Mystery series, including Death by Dumpling and Misfortune Cookie, which was nominated for the Lilian Jackson Braun Award.

Book preview

CHAPTER

1

I am not going to wear a qi-pao to Donna Feng’s party, Mother! I was standing in front of the mirror that hangs on my bedroom closet door while my mother, Betty Lee, held the Asian-style dress against my body, the plastic hanger pushing firmly into my neck.

Why not? my mother returned in somewhat of a whine. "You look so cute."

I think most of us can agree that women in their late twenties do not want to be labeled as cute. And you could definitely put me on that list. Who am I? Lana Lee, nice to meet you. I’m your not-so-average Asian American gal, recently turned twenty-eight, with not a clue in the areas of martial arts, math that goes beyond long division, or how to speak any dialect of Chinese. But I can use chopsticks like a son of a gun. So that’s something, right?

If you had to find me in a crowd, it wouldn’t be a problem because 50 percent of my hair is currently pink. I love hamburgers and pizza almost as much as I love noodles, and if you asked me to cook you a proper Chinese meal, we’d both starve that night. That’s why I manage my parents’ Chinese restaurant instead of cooking there. Trust me when I say, no one wants me behind a wok.

In recent weeks, I’d come up with the idea of adding a catering service to the family business as a way to help bring in extra money. Summer months at the noodle shop could be slow, and we were dead smack in the middle of July. With Peter’s artistic help, we put together a flyer advertising the new service and left a healthy stack at the plaza’s community center and included them in all our take-out bags.

Our first catering job was for Donna Feng, the owner of Asia Village—the shopping plaza my family’s restaurant was part of. It was Donna’s birthday, and she wanted to have a fancy dinner party at her house. When she first proposed the idea, I of course jumped at the opportunity, thinking that it would include food for maybe ten to fifteen of her closest friends and family.

That was not the case. It turned out she was thinking more along the lines of a small, intimate gathering of fifty. You know, because all of us have a close-knit group of fifty friends. Regardless, I was up for the challenge, which was nothing Ho-Lee Noodle House couldn’t handle. At least that’s what I had to keep telling myself in order to keep the butterflies from causing a frenzy in my stomach.

I’d had a very specific dress in mind for the party, and it did not resemble this navy-blue qi-pao covered in dragons and clouds that my mother had picked out. The black dress I had chosen, with its high lace collar and cap sleeves, was feminine, sleek, and most of all mature. It didn’t make me feel like a little kid playing dress-up.

My mother is a small Taiwanese woman with an extreme desire to keep me at the age of seven, and this dress was evidence of that. She released the hanger’s hold on my neck and waved the dress in front of me. But this is so beautiful. If Mommy was younger, I would keep this for myself.

Well, Mother, as they say, age is just a number. It looks like it will fit you just fine. I smiled sweetly at her.

She scowled in return and laid the dress on my bed next to Kikkoman, my black pug, who had been watching our every move with intrigue. Kikko sniffed the satiny material before letting out a groan that might be mistaken for a very human sound of misery.

When my mother turned around to face me, she planted her dainty hands on her hips—as was her customary stance when speaking to me—and jutted her head forward with determination set in her dark-brown eyes. Everyone else who is working will wear the same dress. This will show high class.

"So Peter’s going to wear that dress?" I responded with a smirk.

My mother did not find it amusing. You are not funny, Lana Lee.

I glanced back at the dress on my bed. Neither is making me wear that dress.

Why? my mother asked. Your sister is okay wearing this dress. She did not give Mommy such a hard time.

That’s because she’s a kiss—

Hello! a cheerful voice yelled from the living room.

We’re in here! I shouted back.

It was my best friend and roommate, Megan Riley. And hopefully she could talk some sense into my mother. Kikko hopped down onto the floor and wiggled her curly tail as she went to greet Megan, who was on her way to join us in my bedroom.

Her blond hair was ironing-board straight, and she was dressed in a black T-shirt and skinny jeans, most likely coming home from a shift at the Zodiac, the bar where she works. Lately she had been working a mixture of random hours due to staffing problems they were having. I couldn’t ever be sure when she’d get home, and when she’d need to run off to start pouring drinks. Oh hey, Mama Lee, she said, giving my mother a hug. It’s nice to see you.

My mother looked up at her, squinting as she assessed her. You look skinny.

Ma, you always say that. She squeezed my mom’s arm playfully and turned to me. What are you guys up to? Want to get some dinner or something?

You came just in time, I told her, grabbing the dress from my bed. My mother wants me to wear this. I shook it at her. Isn’t it ridiculous?

Megan took the dress from me and looked it over. What’s wrong with it?

Don’t you think it’s a bit cliché?

I think it’s cute.

I threw my hands in the air. Exactly.

My mother groaned.

Megan laughed and handed the dress back to me. Stop being so stubborn, Lana. It’s just one night.

I’m not being stubborn, I replied as I gave the dress in my hands the stink eye.

Okay, in truth, when it comes to the must-knows about Lana Lee … stubborn makes the list.

---

The next evening, after lots of internal debate on the merits of wearing the dress I had purchased for myself versus the dress my mother was insisting I wear, I decided not to create unnecessary waves and give in to her request. So I dutifully put on the qi-pao and a pair of black patent-leather stiletto heels to add some edge and went on my way to Donna Feng’s house in Westlake, one of the wealthier suburbs of Cleveland, without another thought about it.

The upper-class widow lived with her two teenage daughters in a house that was large enough to host two full-sized families. Donna had confided in my mother on a few occasions about how difficult things had become after her husband, Thomas, died. She found herself struggling to handle a lot of the affairs that come along with taking care of a house that size. And what with raising two teens, the charity work she did within the Asian community, and her mild involvement with Asia Village, she’d quickly found her hands full. So instead of minimizing her responsibilities, she’d recently hired a maid, a live-in nanny, and a gardener to help with the various tasks around the house.

I pulled onto Donna’s street and parked a few houses down behind my sister’s car. We’d been instructed to park a little way away from the house itself to give the guests the best parking options.

It was approaching sunset, and the humidity of the day had mostly dissipated. A light, refreshing breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees ever so gently.

The dress was a little tight—probably from all the doughnuts I’d been eating recently—and I shimmied myself out of the car, thankful for the respectable slit down the side. As I walked along the sidewalk listening to my heels click-clack, I began to regret my choice of footwear—like I always do.

My sister, Anna May, and Peter Huang, our head chef, were in Donna’s driveway unloading the food trays and dining accessories that we needed for the evening. Peter had borrowed his cousin’s beat-up work van, and it stuck out like a sore thumb in this ritzy neighborhood. I made a mental note that we might need a catering van if we were going to get serious about this side business.

Peter noticed me approaching and gave a casual nod in my direction. His normally ball-cap-covered head was bare, and his shaggy, black hair looked like it had been trimmed and slicked back. Also missing from his typical apparel were the beat-up combat boots he wore in the kitchen at Ho-Lee Noodle House every day without fail. In their place were polished, square-toed dress shoes. He noticed my assessment and spoke before I could say anything. My mom said I had to, so don’t give me a hard time, okay?

I wasn’t planning to say anything, I lied, biting back a quip about being a mama’s boy. Even though we often teased each other about these kinds of things, I knew that him dressing up was a no-joke zone. You look sharp.

Thanks. I feel weird, though. And they’re so not cool to cook in. I told my mom they were going to get ruined, but she didn’t care. He shrugged. So whatever.

Anna May batted his arm. Stop saying you look weird. You actually look like a grown-up for once.

I regarded my sister with a quick assessment. Of course, we looked very similar in our matching qi-paos, but she had gone for classy and I’d gone for sassy. Her hair was impeccably done, a French bun, not a hair out of place. Classic pearl necklace and matching bracelet, French-manicured nails and sensible kitten heels. Whereas my hair was French-braided and swept up to the side in a messy sort of way with strands of pink left down to frame my face, thanks to Megan’s ability to copy hairstyles from magazines. I’d chosen bold silver jewelry, chunky rings, a cuff bracelet, sparkly chandelier earrings, and of course these blasted stilettos.

As I thought about them, my sister’s eyes landed on my feet and she snorted. Lana, you’re going to die in those shoes within the first hour.

I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry and get this stuff inside so Peter can move this van. I’m surprised Donna hasn’t said anything about it yet.

As the three of us walked inside, I cringed as the toes of my shoes started to pinch. But you know how sometimes you focus on the smallest inconveniences of life, not realizing that things could be so much worse?

Yeah, it was going to be one of those times.

CHAPTER

2

Donna Feng is the kind of woman that makes a statement just by walking into a room. She is bold, she is coiffed, and she exudes the kind of confidence any woman would covet. Even when her husband was killed several months ago, she’d carried herself with a poise that seemed almost superhuman. I often found myself searching within for the same type of self-assurance. Only rarely had I seen her at all flustered.

When we entered through the front door, we found Donna in the sitting room standing next to a slightly shorter woman in a sleek black suit, barking orders at a team of people in crisp white shirts and black dress pants. I had no idea who any of them were, but my best guess told me they were here to help make Donna’s party the best in the city.

Donna, though, in a stunning, dark-gray A-line dress, appeared less than confident for the first time since I’d known her. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and I could see the anxiety in her eyes as the other woman spoke to the lineup of staff members. We stood off to the side so as not to interrupt.

Okay, people, guests will start to arrive shortly, and everything has to be absolutely on point! I expect nothing less! The woman clapped her hands together in quick succession. Flower arrangements on all the tables, settings placed to perfection … if anything is out of place, put it in place. Now move!

The workers left the room in single file.

My sister and I shared a look as we followed behind Peter. Donna caught the movement from the corner of her eye and clasped her hands in excitement. Oh, Lana, darling, she cooed, ignoring both Anna May and Peter. You’ve arrived! Come in, come in. I’m so happy you’re here!

She greeted me and my sister with a hug and gave a respectful nod to Peter. Lana, I’d love for you to meet my party planner. This is Yvette Howard, and she is absolutely brilliant at what she does. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

The shorter woman stepped up and smiled brightly. She had the exact same air of confidence that Donna carried, and I could see why Donna would choose her. It’s nice to meet you.

Yvette, Donna said, putting an arm around me. This is my caterer, Lana Lee, her sister, Anna May, and their cook, Peter Huang. Lana was so gracious as to handle all of the food prep, and since she’s a family friend, you can see why I didn’t need any help in that department.

Donna and I had sort of bonded around the time of her husband’s death a few months back, and ever since then she’d seemingly taken more of a liking to me, while continuing to regard Anna May with the same cool politeness she used with most people. She wasn’t a huge fan of Peter, because he happened to be the illegitimate son of her deceased husband. However, because of this, she did show him a level of respect. I knew it must be painful for her to see him since he was a living reminder of her husband’s infidelity, so considering the circumstances, I think she handled her encounters with him pretty well.

That’s wonderful, Yvette replied with what was clearly fake enthusiasm. It’s really nice to meet all of you, but I should go check on things on the back deck and make sure we’re just about ready. After all, time is of the essence.

Donna patted Peter on the shoulder, gesturing to the kitchen entrance with her other hand. Let’s get you three situated. You can set everything down in here. You’ll have to excuse the mess, it’s been absolutely chaotic all day. I can’t seem to find any competent help except for Yvette, and the girls have been driving me nuts since the moment they got out of bed this morning. I feel as though I’m living in a zoo.

Jill and Jessica Feng were Donna’s twin teenage girls, who were a bit of a handful these days. Both of them had decided it was a good time to go through their rebellious phase. I had a suspicion it might have something to do with their father’s death, and everything that came out about Peter being their half brother didn’t help the situation.

No one talked about it, either … including Peter. The girls never spent any time with Peter and he had never offered to get to know them. According to my mother, neither Donna nor Peter’s mother, Nancy, had ever encouraged the half siblings to become friendly with one another.

I set my armload of items down on the flawless marble countertop of the kitchen island and assessed the room. The stainless-steel appliances were sparkling and definitely cleaner than anything you’d find in my apartment. The ceramic floors were equally clean; you could’ve eaten off them if the situation called for it. Donna, everything is immaculate as usual. You’re worrying over nothing.

She released a heavy sigh, leaning against the island. Everything just feels absolutely out of order. How’s my hair? she said, quickly changing subjects.

It looks great! my sister chimed in from behind me. And your dress is amazing.

Thanks, dear, she said, smoothing out the lines near her waist. Calvin Klein never lets me down, I can tell you that. And you girls look lovely as well. She assessed our matching qi-paos. It was a great idea of your mother’s to have the ladies wear matching outfits. Uniformity is a clear sign of classic professionalism.

I bit my tongue because I didn’t agree. I thought it was an awful idea, but now wasn’t the time to express my true feelings about my attire to the birthday girl. Donna, why don’t you go and relax for a little while and let us handle everything down here. I can get the door as the guests start to arrive. And Yvette seems to have everything else under control.

Oh sure, I suppose you’re right about that. I probably should check on the girls one last time as well. They invited a few of their little friends over and I want to make sure they understand the ground rules. After all, this is an adult party. As she started to walk away, she turned around to say, Just send everybody out onto the back deck and I’ll be down in a little while.

After she left the room, Peter, who had remained silent during the whole conversation, let out a low whistle. Dude, someone needs to chill.

Easy for Peter to say: I’d seen him emote maybe a whole two times since the day we met. Although it was odd for Donna to act out like this. The Donna I knew was calm, collected, and ate social functions for breakfast.

Give her a break, my sister said, swatting his arm. Women get weird on their birthdays as they get older. Life is passing, things haven’t happened, things have gone by the wayside, whatever. There’s always something. And she’s already a widow.

Age is just a number, I said, knowing full well what would happen next. But there are moments when I just can’t help myself.

My sister rolled her eyes at me. That’s because you’re not even thirty yet, Lana. Trust me. You’re going to be singing a different tune in two years. Mark my words.

Doubt it, I replied. "You’ve said this to me every year for how many years and I still don’t

Reviews for Egg Drop Dead

[carolee888 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Attracted by the steaming bowl of egg drop soup, I decided to buy this cosy mystery. I had not read the previous in this series. At tse beginning of the book, I was disappointed to find this is really there was very little emphasis on Chinese food.The main character Lana Lee is ABC, Anerican born Chinese. Lana is not interesting in Chinese cooking but more in business and has developed an interest in detective work as a hobby.To pick up business for her family restaurant, which Lana managers, she started a side line of catering. At a birthday party that her family has been charged with catering, the host is Donna Feng who was the person having the birthday. But at the party, a servant is found floating dead in the swimming pool. The police come and determine that the victim was killed before being in the pool. Donna seems to be the main suspect. Donna tells Lana directs Lana to a place where a small terra cotta soldier is located. Lana retrieves it and the hunt for the killer begins.I thought it was a very well constructed mystery, with many surprises along the way. As the story progress, you feel like you need to keep reading to find out what happens next. There is humor and a little romance too.

[gpangel_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Egg Drop Dead by Vivien Chien is a 2020 St. Martin’s Press publication.Fantastic! This series just keeps getting better!Lana’s first catering job is for a fancy dinner party, hosted by Donna Feng. But things go horribly awry when Donna’s Nanny is found dead. Donna once again becomes a prime suspect, and is counting on Lana to solve the mystery, while somehow managing to keep her secrets from coming to light. Lana promises to help, but soon finds herself in way over her head …If you have been following this series, you’ll remember Donna from the previous installment. She’s an intriguing character and I was happy to see her character return. I’m loving the way Lana is progressing with her sleuthing skills and how realistically she approaches this case, knowing she won’t be able to work this one all on her own.While part of the charm of cozy mysteries is in touching base with the recurring characters, often times the mystery elements run in the background, and can be a little thin. That’s not the case with this series though. This mystery was very well plotted and almost had the tone of an old-fashioned crime drama. It was really good!Chein creates a nice balance between the Lana’s sleuthing and her personal life, which complements the series’ fresh contemporary approach to the cozy genre.Overall, I enjoyed this latest installment and am eagerly anticipating the next book in the series.

[kris_anderson-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Egg Drop Dead by Vivien Chen takes us to Fairview Park, Ohio in July. Lana Lee has added catering services to the Ho-Lee Noodle House and their first job is for the owner of Asia Village, Donna Feng. Lana and head chef, Peter Huang arrive to find the normally unflappable Donna extremely agitated and on edge. The party is in full swing when a scream comes from the patio. Lana rushes out to find the nanny dead in the pool. Donna entrusts a thumb drive with Lana that contains sensitive information. Donna wants Lana to don her sleuthing cap once again and locate the killer. Egg Drop Dead is the fifth A Noodle Shop Mystery. It can be read as a standalone for those new to the series (or if you missed a book or two along the way). I like that this series features a Chinese American community outside Cleveland, Ohio. It is unique for cozy mysteries. The author provided vivid descriptions that bring the scenes to life. Lana Lee is managing the family restaurant and putting her own stamp on the place. When Donna asks Lana to investigate the murder of her nanny, she is happy to dive into the case. Lana gets assistance from her roommate, Megan Riley (who is equally inquisitive). After a fire at Donna’s house, Lana gets her to agree to hire a PI. Lana tags along with the private investigator. There are various suspects and well-done clues. I enjoyed Donna’s backstory which was intriguing. I was delighted with the takedown scene and appreciated the epilogue. I would like to see Lana begin to mature. She can be impulsive and make poor decisions that puts her life in jeopardy (frequently). I am surprised that Lana’s boyfriend, Adam is still with her considering how much she lies to him. The author does need to stop repeating case details (we got it the first time). In addition to investigating the murder and managing the restaurant, Lana is dealing with a bothersome ex-boyfriend. Lana will need a stiff backbone to deal with this pesky old beau. Egg Drop Dead is a cute cozy mystery that will have you craving your favorite Chinese delicacy (Pepper Steak for me). Egg Drop Dead is an upbeat story where it is night night for the nanny, a troubling terracotta thumb drive, catering chaos, little lies, and a bothersome old beau.

[brangwinn · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I was hungry and I wanted Chinese food, but I was in pandemic social isolation, so the next best thing was this book. While not as tasty, it was fun candy for my brain, easy and sweet to read and satisfying. I enjoyed Lana having her own style with pink hair. Not what I’d typically expect from a Chinese restaurant manager. Her off and on-again romance with a police detective comes in handy. I’ll be looking for the other books in this series when I need a quick and fun book to read.

[jetangen4571 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

cozy-mystery, Cleveland, family-dynamics, friendship, Chinese-customs, humor, amateur-sleuth, private-investigators*****Who held the nanny under the water in the pool until she drowned? The easy call is the inebriated employer who made a scene at the party, but Lana doesn't believe that of her friend. Lana had only just made changes to the family noodle shop business in Cleveland by expanding into catering, which was why she was present when the body was found. Good thing that one of her friends is a private investigator and that her new boyfriend is a police detective. Let the sleuthing begin! Great read!I requested and received a free ebook copy from St Martin's Press via NetGalley. Thank you!

[jjbooklvr · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Another fun entry is this cozy mystery series. Perfect to read in between heavier reads or if you need to break out of a reading slump! Bonus points because the author is local and it is set in my neck of the woods!