by Erin Johnson
Sam's pale blue eyes widened. "That sssoundsss ssso dangerousss."
"Ah, not to worry." Kenta's goatee bristled as he smiled. "We've got it in hand."
"Still." I winced. "Be careful out there."
"We always are." Kenta reached over absentmindedly and patted Sam's hand. The shifter's cheeks flushed bright pink. He blinked at Kenta's tanned hand on his own pale one, then took his free hand and reached across the counter. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to find Kenta's other hand, which rested on the counter beside me, and patted that one.
Kenta frowned in confusion, at his hand resting on Sam's, then Sam's awkwardly stretched hand patting his other one. I bit my lip to hold back my smile, but Kenta just grinned widely and shrugged at me. Aw. He was a good sport—and sweet Sam was trying. He just didn't always understand human gestures.
"Oh!" Kenta rose on his toes and waved at someone in the crowd. I turned and found an older man with a gray beard waving back. He stood in line at another food stall, waiting for some fried octopus. "That's a fisherman I know." He patted Sam's hand. "I'm going to say hello. I'll be right back."
As soon as he was out of earshot, Sam's shoulders slumped and he slid up beside me with his hands clasped. "Help."
I couldn't help but giggle. "Sam! What's wrong?"
He shifted his pale eyes to follow Kenta, then darted his gaze back to my face. "I don't know how to date."
I grinned wider and squeezed his shoulder. "Listen, buddy, you're not alone there."
He shook his head. "I know sssnake courtssship ritualsss—jussst a lot of wriggling about." He demonstrated, and I found myself doubting if he had any bones in his body, the way he could body roll. He clasped his hands again, pleading. "But I don't know human onesss. Who wigglesss firssst? Do I bump my chin on the back of hisss head, or doesss he do that to me? Who wrapsss around who?"
"Uh." I bit my lip, trying to untangle all those questions. I gently took Sam's wrists and lowered his arms until I held his hands. "Listen, Sam, everybody feels the way you do when they like someone." I chuckled. "With Hank, I second-guessed everything and tripped all over my words." I grinned. "It's just part of it. And I know it must be even harder, never having done this as a human before, but…" I squeezed his hands. "You're doing great."
He shook his head and glanced past my shoulder. "Not Kenta. He'sss ssso sssuave. He'sss not nervousss."
I leaned closer and lowered my voice. "Trust me. Even Captain Kenta gets nervous. He likes you. I can tell."
Sam's eyes widened and his glasses slid down his nose. "Really?"
I nodded. "Yeah. So don't worry so much. You two will figure dating, or whatever you want to do, out together."
My shifter friend looked down. "What if I sssay the wrong thing?"
I planted my hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shake. He wobbled—the guy was made of Jell-O. "Well, he likes whatever you've been saying so far. Just keep being you." I felt like an after-school special, but it was true.
Kenta bounced back a moment later and threw his arm around Sam's shoulders. "What'd I miss?" He hugged Sam to his side, and the shifter's cheeks turned bright pink.
I winked. See?
42
The Last Night
Genji whirled around, two metal spatulas in hand. He flipped the okonomiyaki pancakes in a whirl of speed, and enchanted bottles and shakers of condiments floated over, seasoning the food.
I watched him work for a moment, then spoke up. "Sorry—I hope I'm not distracting you if I ask you a question?"
Genji glanced up for just a moment. His dark eyes blinked at me from their sunken sockets, his skin stretched tight to his skull. He flipped another pancake. "Not at all." He giggled. "I've done this so many times, I'll probably still be twitching and going through the motions after I'm dead."
I grimaced as I pictured a corpse going through the motions of flipping pancakes. Pretty macabre. I reminded myself that he'd just lost his wife recently. Grief did strange things to people.
Kenta pressed his lips tight together and flashed his eyes at me. I held back a smile and started again. "Um… good. Listen, we're just a little concerned about this recent death at the spa. Nazo Suzuki?"
Genji nodded, a smile still on his face.
I thought about the food wrapper we'd found in the dead man's room and considered how to phrase my question. "We understand that he ate at your stall before his death. And one of the spa workers mentioned to me that you often bring the workers at the Doragon deliveries for lunch. I was just curious, since you'd interacted with Nazo Suzuki and had maybe been in the hotel when he was there—did you ever see anything… noteworthy? Or maybe suspicious?"
Genji giggled his high-pitched laugh. "Oh, I just get in and get out, you know. No lingering about, Miss Sara always says." He shook his finger in mock seriousness, then giggled again.
I cracked an uneasy smile. I was sure she did. This guy was definitely weird.
"But that man, Nazo Suzuki, you say he was called? He ate here the day he died." Genji pointed a spatula at the stool to my right. He swept it straight toward Kenta, who sat on the far-left stool. "And Dango sat there."
I raised my brows. "They were both here—at the same time?"
Genji nodded as a squirt bottle of dark brown liquid magically floated into his hand. He zigzagged the sauce over the sizzling piles of food. They smelled bacony and delicious. I swallowed; my mouth was watering.
He grinned at me, the bones of his throat showing through his thin, leathery skin. "Dango's here all the time. Been coming for thirty years, so that was nothing new. And like usual, he had some big plan." He cackled. "This time, he was drinking my sake and bragging that he'd come up with a good-as-goldfish way to steal customers from Miss Sara." He raised the back of his hand to the side of his mouth. "But you didn't hear it from me."
I frowned and snuck a glance at Sam and Kenta. They looked as concerned as I was. "Wait—why did he want to steal customers from her?"
Genji threw his head back and cackled. "Oh! That. He's got a huge grudge against her—holding on to it for these last thirty years or so. Always trying to get back at her—he claimed this time, his plan would really work."
I frowned deeper. "What was his plan? Do you know?"
The skinny man leaned forward and lowered his voice. Sam, Kenta and I leaned closer to hear better over the sizzling of the grill. "He's got some special tea for his guests. Says it'll tranquilize them—like the name of his spa, tranquility!" Genji dissolved into wheezy laughs as I turned to my friends. Deep creases showed between Kenta's brows and Sam blinked at me with wide eyes.
I opened my mouth to express my suspicions, but jumped when Genji clapped his hands together.
"Food's ready!"
Nine okonomiyakis floated into their paper-lined baskets. The three of us scooped them up and dodged the crowd on the pier to take them back to the tables we'd staked out. Rhonda dropped her feet to the ground and sat up straight when she saw them. Hank, Wiley, and Yann were already back with the drinks, and Maple and Annie broke off their conversation about the best methods for plaiting bread.
Rhonda's face lit up. "Shells, yes."
I slid a basket over to Sam, and another to Kenta. "Eat up." I pressed my lips tight together and addressed the rest of my friends. "Kenta has to leave for his fishing boat shift soon."
Yann mumbled that he had no appetite, but Rhonda, Wiley, Maple, and the rest of us dug in.
Wiley lifted the enormous pile up in both hands and eyed it. "How do you eat this thing?" Without waiting for an answer, he opened his mouth wide and took a bite, shredded cabbage tumbling from his lips.
Maple frowned at him and used chopsticks to break off a bite-sized chunk.
Around a mouthful of food, he eyed her beside him. "Oh ogay, show me up, princess."
She giggled and popped the bite in her mouth, then closed her eyes. "Mmm. This is delicious."
Rhonda nodded and went in for another bite.
I sat down beside Hank and looked around at my friends. Before I started in on my food, I took a deep breath, then let it out. "Guys. I think we need to look into Dango, the guy who owns the struggling spa across the street."
Annie looked up from her food, her thin brows raised.
"Genji was just telling us that he ate here at the same time as Nazo Suzuki, the same day the man died."
Hank frowned. "Did they know each other?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so. But apparently Dango was going on about using tea to 'tranquilize' his guests and to finally get back at Sara for some grudge he holds against her." I grimaced. "What if he 'tranquilized' Nazo Suzuki and that's why the man overheated and died in the sand bath? He couldn't call for help or dig himself out because he'd been knocked out."
Hank put down his pint, a cute foam mustache above his lip. "Dango would have had an opportunity if they ate at the stand together—he could have drugged Nazo Suzuki's food." He shook his head. "Though to brag about it like that would be incredibly foolish… or brazen."
I shrugged. "Genji said he'd been drinking sake—maybe it made him loose-tongued. Anyway, if he had a grudge against Sara, it's pretty smart to kill someone at her spa—he'd probably be thinking it'd hurt her business."
"Doesn't seem to have hurt her business at all though." Kenta shook his head. "Which means he might be growing desperate and strike again."
Yann suddenly jerked his head up. "You are saying dat dis odder guy might have done da killing? Dat Sara could be innocent?" He pounded one fist into his other palm and boomed, "We need to investigate!"
I waved my hands at him. "Glad to see you're feeling perkier, Yann, but let's keep it down." I glanced around. People milling about and eating nearby were casting us glances over their shoulders.
"Who's in?" Yann shouted.
"After dinner, right?" Rhonda crunched away at a bite.
I nodded.
"Glad she's got her priorities straight." Iggy folded his flame arms. "Speaking of which, more driftwood, please."
Hank dug around in his pocket and pulled out a slim gray stick. Iggy snatched it eagerly and stuffed it in his mouth. "Yummy."
I grinned at my boyfriend and nudged him with my shoulder. "Look at you."
He smiled. "Got to be prepared."
"I'm out, unfortunately." Kenta dabbed a paper napkin at the corner of his lips. "But a word of advice. Hold anything too serious for the morning. Not only are we guards out on the boats, but so is most of Umiru's police force. The ones left here are mostly volunteers, more like security guards than actual detectives or officers. If you need real backup tonight, try to contact us out on the boats."
"Should we… send up a flare?" Maple swiped a brown spot off Wiley's cheek with her finger.
Kenta shook his head. "We probably won't see it. It's a pandemonium of colors out there; a flare wouldn't be noticeable. No, you'd have to send a boat out to notify us."
I frowned. That'd be difficult—to find which boat the guards were on, and time consuming to get out there and back. No—whatever we did tonight, we were pretty much on our own.
43
Maho Tea
After we finished eating, and Rhonda "rested and digested" as she put it, lounging in her folding chair with her hands folded over her stomach for five minutes, we left Kenta and hurried down the pier and across the main street to Dango's dilapidated spa.
The bell on the door chimed as we entered the dimly lit space. Dango stood in his spot behind the front desk with a fly swatter. "Gotcha!" He pounced on a spot on the wall behind him and beat at whatever he'd spotted with excessive force. When he straightened and turned around, his face shone bright red and he'd managed to further peel some of the faded wallpaper off with his efforts.
"Oh." He tugged down the waistband of his satin tracksuit jacket and cleared his throat, then tossed the mangled flyswatter to the side and stepped up to the desk, resting his folded hands on the counter. "Welcome to my tranquility spa—"
Rhonda snorted.
He bristled, glaring at her, his mustache twitching, then started again. "Where all your cares will melt away. Care for our newest treatment? It'll lull you into—"
Hank and I stepped forward, and Dango's face fell.
"Oh. It's you." He pressed his lips tightly together. "What do you want?"
"Do we have customers?" his wife called from behind the swinging door.
He turned his head, but kept his eyes narrowed on me. "Nope. Just those tea peddlers again."
Hank started forward. "I'll have you know selling tea is a noble and—"
I reached out and stopped him by grabbing his arm. He halted, but stood glaring at Dango. "Jun and his family work hard and—"
I patted his arm and muttered as I stepped forward, "I know, but potential murderer here…."
Hank blinked. "Oh. Right."
I sauntered up to the desk, holding my breath as I passed the baskets of tea Dango hadn't bothered moving out of the lobby. I didn't need another sneezing fit. I held my head high, not feeling too threatened with Hank, Wiley, Maple, Yann, Rhonda, and Sam at my back. Though it would've been nice if Francis was up by now and could've joined us. Never hurt to have an ancient vampire on your team. I plunked Iggy's lantern down on the desk, and Dango peered at him.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Iggy stuck out his tongue.
I cleared my throat. "What's this about a new treatment?"
"Ah!" The man's mustached face lit up, and he held up both index fingers. "My latest, genius concoction, if I do say so meself."
"Oh brother," Iggy muttered.
I nudged his lantern with my elbow to get him to hush and smiled at Dango.
"It's a proprietary tea blend that'll lull you into a deep relaxation—so deep, you'll fall asleep and wake up refreshed and rejuvenated."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off, wagging a finger at me.
"Nuh-uh. I won't tell you what's in it."
Hank stepped forward beside me, thick arms crossed. "We delivered a massive quantity of maho tea here yesterday. I'm pretty sure I can guess the main ingredient."
I bit my lip to keep from smirking, while Dango narrowed his eyes at Hank.
I cocked my head to the side. "And isn't that a bit dangerous? Essentially drugging people who are about to slip into the baths or steam rooms?" I watched his reaction carefully. "That could kill them, couldn't it?"
"I— No, you just don't understand— It wouldn't—" Dango's faced turned redder and redder, his whole face pinched and nose scrunched. His hands balled into tight fists.
"I think he's about to blow." Rhonda slid up beside me and popped a pink oval from a candy dish into her mouth. She made a face, then spat it out. "I think that was a vitamin."
"That's our lost and found!" Dango shouted.
I recoiled. "Why does your lost and found look like a candy dish? Why would you keep someone's vitamin?"
Dango vibrated with anger. "Typhoon’s tits! Yes! Yes! Alright, fine!" He slammed a fist down on the desk behind the counter, rattling the candy dish. "I suppose knocking a bunch of spa goers out cold isn't the best idea. Argh! And I thought this, this one, was going to be the idea that put us on top!"
He grimaced and pulled at his hair.
"It's alright, dear!" his wife screamed from behind the door, so loud her voice cracked. "You'll have another great idea!"
"It is just so tranquil here," Iggy mused.
Maple squeezed in between Rhonda and me. She glared at him, her sweet face not even coming close to menacing, no matter how hard she tried. "Is that what happened to Nazo Suzuki? You tried your 'proprietary blend' on him, and he slept—to death!"
Wiley slid up behind her and massaged her shoulders. "Good try, sweetie."
She whirled around. "Hey. I'm intimidating."
I smirked, and she spun to face me. "I am!"
"What are you on about?" Dango frowned at Maple, then me.
"Though it does beg the questi
on." Hank leaned against the desk and turned to face me. "Why Nazo Suzuki wasn't dug out in time. Even if he'd fallen asleep, been drugged by Dango here, the sandmen should have pulled him out and avoided disaster."
Sam cleared his throat from behind us, where he stood beside Yann. "The timer wasss broken, remember?"
I snapped my fingers. "That's right! It was cracked—the spell had broken, and the sand froze midair."
Hank's eyes grew cloudy, deep in thought. "Why was the timer broken? Coincidence? Seems unlikely. Who broke it, then? And if it was Dango, how'd he sneak in unnoticed?"
The spa owner threw up his hands. "I'm right here, you know? I didn't drug Nazo Suzuki, you kidding? I didn't even know that was him until you two told me. He was just another random, dissatisfied customer." He scratched the back of his neck. His color was slowly fading to pink instead of tomato red.
"Ooh!" Maple bounced on her heels. "He could have disguised himself as a sandman. You said you remembered seeing an extra one who wasn't present after the murder, right, Imogen?"
I nodded. "Yeah. That's possible. Though I don't know how he would've gotten ahold of a uniform."
"I didn't!" Dango stomped his foot, and we all turned to face him. "Listen, you might be on to something though with that tea." He shook his finger at me. "I couldn't find the samples of the proprietary blend I'd made up before I ordered the big batch. And I know I had them with me the day Nazo Suzuki was killed, because I showed them to him when I ran into him at lunch."
He winced. "I pitched him my idea about the new treatment—offered to let him try it for free. He'd just checked out of my place after a… not-so-great experience with some food poisoning. But I couldn't convince him—he said he'd already moved over to the Doragon." His face lit up. "After lunch I couldn't find the tea I'd shown him. Maybe he stole the tea and drugged himself!"
"Did you leave the samples in the shed?" his wife screamed. "He's always losing things."
"Er." Dango scratched the back of his neck. "No. I didn't look there."