"Dumplings?"
Just like the three times before, they zeroed in on my mother's dumplings.
And just like every time before, the search turned up nothing.
The dumplings offered no clues whatsoever.
"Eating dumplings and then dying? Did someone poison them?"
The task force members studied my mother and me with cold, appraising eyes.
"We're innocent, officer!" my mom cried.
"And we're not stupid! If we really wanted to kill someone, would we make the dumplings ourselves and let him die right here in our own home? Do we have a death wish?"
"And even setting all that aside—he was my daughter's boyfriend! He could've been my future son-in-law! What possible motive would we have?"
Chief Finch cut her off, his voice calm and measured.
"The dumplings from that evening—are there any left?"
"Yes!"
My mom jumped in immediately. "I made extra filling that day, so I wrapped a whole batch more and put them in the freezer."
"And everything happened so fast that night. The leftover dumplings are still in the pot. I never had a chance to clean up."
So the team inspected every last dumpling my mother had made.