Dim Sum, Dead Some

Ivan Sorokin is missing. Who wants him out of the picture—his wife, his business partner, or the stripper who holds his heart? Josie Tucker stands on Beach Street with her back to the San Francisco wharf. Above her, the Ghirardelli sign winks in the dusky twilight, seducing her. The ice cream parlor lights beckon like a lactose lothario, a casein casanova, trying hard to woo her. But her heart longs for dumplings, for dim sum. Dim sum means “heart’s delight.” Imagine nibbling at a savory golden pouch stuffed with delicately seasoned meat. If a lover offers the morsel on the tips of exquisitely lacquered chopsticks late in the morning while reclining on silken cushions…that’s food for the heart. Chinatown. Dim sum. Murder. Josie’s perfect ingredients for adventure.