“We’ll gather those up and catalog them,” Goro said, standing over me. “She’d be upset about what happened to her bento box collection. She loved those.” He glanced at the bills. “Maybe she had a debt she had to pay and someone came to collect on it. Stranger things have happened.” He raised his eyebrows at me, hinting at Tama. Tama fell in with criminals, the yakuza, and had debts to pay.
“That’s not how a shakedown happens, though,” I replied, and both guys laughed at me. “What? You both need to read more.” I huffed my disapproval and explained. “If you owe money, they don’t want to kill you because then they can’t collect. They’ll scare you or even injure you or your family, but death is the last thing on the list.” I turned in the apartment and noticed her futon wasn’t out in the main area.
“What about Hisashi? You need to call him. He’d be back in Chiba by now, right?”
Goro pulled his lips in and grimaced. “Yes, but… He’s a suspect now. We usually bring in the boyfriend first, if there is one.”
“Do you really think…?” My head lightened like a balloon.
“No. I don’t. We all know him. Kumi’s known him since they were in high school. But…”
“Yeah.” We knew Tama and never expected him to kill. Now this.
I hesitated before I continued into her apartment. The kitchen was a basic set-up with a two-burner stove, a sink, and an oven. I pulled on my glove and opened her fridge. She had plenty in there to eat and nothing looked out of place. I opened the oven and it was cold. The bathroom looked fine.
She had a separate bedroom just down the hall. I was tempted to call her lucky because her apartment was twice the size of the apartment I had in Tokyo before I was fired from my job and evicted, but I could never call a murdered sweetheart like Etsuko “lucky.” Her futon looked like it was recently slept in.
Hmmm…
“Goro-chan?”
“Yeah, Mei-chan?” He came up next to me and I waved to the futon. “What?”
I pointed to the covers. “Both sides.” The covers were peeled back on both sides of the futon. Someone else had been here with her.
“Ah! Good catch. But if she was home, sleeping alone after Hisashi left, she would’ve pulled up the covers on both sides before getting in. This makes me think he was here.”
“Or someone else? I hate to say it, though, because they seemed so in love to me.” I shrugged my shoulders, and Goro only nodded in response.
Yasahiro poked his head between us and peered at the bed. “Hmmm, I can’t imagine her cheating on him. He was all she talked about.”
“Everyone has secrets, I guess.” I had a dozen at least, and there were a few I kept from him.
For a moment, Yasahiro seemed bewildered, his head cocked to the side, but he squeezed my hand. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”
Either he was too naive to believe people kept secret lovers or he didn’t believe Etsuko could’ve done that or… I didn’t want to think about the “or.” I had no idea how Yasahiro and Amanda broke up. What if he had cheated on her? What if she had?
I needed to distract myself.
“I want to help.” I grabbed Goro’s arm, my brain leaping through hundreds of scenarios. I pictured Etsuko in bed with another man, and he was married, but then the wife found out? Or what? I imagined a million different ways this could have gone down. Or, most likely, she slept with Hisashi earlier and was blindsided after he left. Maybe she had never made the bed. Etsuko was fully clothed when we found her.
Goro narrowed his eyes at me. “Fine, but no bets this time. And you call me if you think of anything.”
“I called you about Tama and you didn’t believe me.” I thrust my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Are you going to listen to me this time?”
Yasahiro stepped away. “Oh no. I’ll wait outside.” He turned and beat a hasty path for the door.
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry, but I am.” Goro set his strong hand on my shoulder. “I promise to listen this time. You have good instincts, Mei-chan. I’m glad you’re on my side.”
I placed my hand over his. “Some days, it’s all I have. I may not have a job or money or much of anything, but I can help others when I can. Let me help.”
“Okay. Let’s look around one more time before we go.”
Chapter Six
I never had liked Mondays. What sane person loved returning to work after two whole days off? Now, without an office to go to, my life seemed to drag on every day, one sunrise and sunset blending straight into the next. I barely knew what day of the week it was and wouldn’t without Mom getting out of bed and going to work. With Mom gone at 3:00 and only the cat to keep me warm, I shivered in bed until the sun rose and sparkled over a wonderland of frost on the ground and grass. I drank a hot coffee, wrapped up in two blankets, and wondered if we were in danger of the pipes freezing. Mom had left the kitchen faucet dripping on purpose, and it was no surprise to find ice crystals forming on the sides of the sink.
I dressed in layers, walked to the bus stop, and headed to the bathhouse to spend the day with Kumi.
“Etsuko was so sweet,” Kumi said, crying into a handkerchief with Chiyo’s arm around her shoulder. We all sat on the bench in the front lobby. “How does something like this even happen to her?” She sobbed a few more times and hiccuped. “Goro-chan told me you’re going to help find who killed her.” She leaned forward and grabbed my sleeve. “Please. Do whatever you can to help. She didn’t deserve to die.”
“She didn’t.” I squeezed her hand and she let go. “I liked her a lot too. I was just getting to know her.”
“They’re picking up Hisa-kun today. I don’t believe he killed her. He loved her so much. They’ve been dating since high school, and he came to visit her once a month, religiously.”
I hugged her and soothed her as best I could. “I want you to remember all the times you’ve seen her and hung out with her over the past few months. Write down everything you can think of. I’m gathering up as much evidence as I can, and I’ll use everything I learn to go out and ask more questions.”
“I’ll start now,” Kumi said, jumping up and heading to the front desk. The brand new Mac there displayed Kumi’s own drawings and designs in screensaver mode. She was a talented graphic designer. I envied her and her natural artistic talents. Not only did she run the bathhouse with Chiyo, but she designed the printed materials and the website for Kutsuro Matsu, and she ran her own graphic design and branding business on the side. Between Kumi and Goro, they were very comfortable, hoping to have kids within the next few years. They owned a duplex a few blocks away that they shared with Chiyo, all living happily together.
Kumi wiped her face and eyes, took out a stack of notecards, and sat down, chewing on the tip of a pen. “I’ll write some things down while you go warm up in the bath, Mei-chan.”
I waved her off. “It’s okay. I can stay here and keep you company.”
“Nonsense. I need to think.” She held her hands parallel to each other and pointed at the cards in front of her with them. “I’m going to focus on all the things I can remember about Etsuko and write them down for you and Goro. We can’t let the killer get away.”
I frowned, worried about Kumi. What if we didn’t find Etsuko’s killer? What if it was Hisashi? Would Kumi be able to accept that? I’d come to accept that Tama tried to kill me, but it was hard to believe at first.
I sat in the hot baths inside the women’s area and let the water heat me up from the outside in. The weather was going to be extra cold through the end of the week and I was dreading it. I’d only gone a few nights at home without heat, and it was enough to make me want to pack my bags and fly to someplace tropical. If I even had the money.
Joking around with Yasahiro the other day about going to Ibiza made me daydream for hours about what it would be like to travel with him, and it was easy to slip back into my dreams in the hot bath. I closed my eyes and called up all the image
s I saw of him with Amanda on vacations, but I erased her and put myself in her place. I gave myself a wide-brimmed white hat and big sunglasses, long, light flowing pants, and a chic, printed shirt. My skin was always perfect in my daydreams, no scars to make people stare at me for all the wrong reasons. Yasahiro gazed at me proudly, the way he always looked at Amanda. I walked the streets of a Caribbean island, arm in arm with him. We ate exotic seafood together. We gambled at the casino and drank cocktails at fancy restaurants.
I opened my eyes and stared up at my painting on the wall. Chiyo was going to offer me money again, and I would have to come up with some polite way to refuse her. It went against everything I held dear to accept charity from my friends. I’d always been independent and so had Mom. I’d always paid my own way with everything, with some small amount of help from Mom or my brother when I needed it. Asking friends for help was out of the question. I would never burden them with my own shortcomings. It was hard enough to take food or help from Yasahiro, but I did it reluctantly because we were dating. I knew it would create a rift between us if I constantly refused his help.
But I needed a job, and I needed one soon. If I didn’t start to make some money of my own, I would grow to hate myself. I turned around and rested my chin on my arms, dangling my legs out behind me in the bath as a trio of older women, all of them in their eighties at least, came in to bathe. I didn’t know them, so I kept my back from them.
“Did you remember to pick up your prescriptions?” one lady asked another.
“No.” She sighed, sitting down on a bench. “I’m hoping my daughter comes by later today before they close.”
Another woman shook her head. “You should ask them to deliver them to you.”
“They do, sometimes, when they’re not too busy.”
“The real problem is making it to the grocery store when it opens so I can take advantage of the sales that day. But it takes me a long time to dress and walk to the bus. By the time, I get there, everything is already taken.”
The old ladies chattered on about the things they couldn’t do anymore now that they were older and less mobile. They appeared to be in pretty good health, despite the good-natured griping. The three helped each other with scrubbing one another’s backs, and they laughed and had a great time.
I tried not to stare at them as a new idea formed in my head. What if I could find people that needed help and lent them my own mobility at a price? Was there such a job as professional errand runner? Professional car driver for the elderly? I’d heard of this mobile app called Uber that lets you become an ersatz taxi driver. I wasn’t sure if there was a market for that in Chikata, but I figured plenty of elderly people around town could use the help. I didn’t even need to drive to help them. I could walk or take the bus.
I sank into the water as the ladies talked about world events. Yes! This was something I could do! I liked to help others (though in a twist of irony, I hated when others helped me), and it was something that always brought me a sense of peace, defining my place in the world. My business degree was all well and fine, and I was capable of writing up proposals or applying for grants or doing basic start-up planning, but helping people was something I actually enjoyed.
Now I had a good reason to go visit Akiko. I didn’t need to ask for money or for food or shelter, but I did know what I would ask for. Introductions.
Tuesday dawned much like Monday had, cold and frosty. This time, though, Mom was still in bed with me until 6:00 because she didn’t have to be at work until 7:00. Even though I wanted nothing more than to roll over in bed and go back to sleep while I could still capture her warmth, I got up. I was slow to exit the bedroom, my joints aching, head foggy and slow, and fingertips frozen. I passed by the indoor thermometer and it displayed four degrees celsius. Four. I wanted to cry.
Mom, though, was doing ten times better than me. She must have found her reserves of energy in storage because she was happy and chipper.
She hummed and smiled while handing me a cup of coffee. I kept myself bundled in the warm blankets while spooning in the sugar Yasahiro provided. I was grateful for any small thing, and sugar was at the top of the list.
Mom opened the fridge and pulled out the okonomiyaki egg and squid pancake Yasahiro made us. I peeked into the fridge as she closed it and there wasn’t much left in there. I needed to visit him today and gather any leftovers he had for us.
“How did you sleep?” Mom asked as she heated up a pan on the stove. “I slept well. Thanks for sharing the bed with me.”
“No problem,” I said, my teeth chattering. “It was warm while we were in there, and yeah, you sleep like the dead. I wish I slept like that.” I would drift into sleep, only to be confronted with Etsuko’s dead body and flinch awake again. Mom barely moved a muscle.
“I sleep well because of all the hard work I do.” Mom flipped over the steaming hot pancake and my mouth watered. Anyone else would have thought Mom’s statement was passive aggressive, but I knew better.
“Back when we were harvesting vegetables every day and I was running, I slept like the dead, too. Now that I’m not allowed to run and there’s nothing to harvest, I sleep poorly.” I glanced out the window at the skeleton of the barn and sipped my coffee, my daily routine. I looked back on the last few months and wondered what the hell happened to my life. I was sure when my boss fired me he thought I’d land on my feet again in no time. Most people would’ve turned around and found a new job right away. The reality of the situation though was grim. Jobs were hard to come by, and those that had them protected their livelihood with their very souls.
My job was eliminated, my life was downsized, and I lost pretty much everything. Which reminded me…
“When are we going to get the insurance money?”
Mom avoided eye contact with me.
“Sorry.” I sighed. “Should I not ask? It’s just so cold in here, and I’m trying not to complain, really I am. But I’d like to be able to take a hot bath at home and even cook some eggs and rice.” I could do that in the rice cooker, but not if we didn’t have eggs nor rice.
Eggs, rice, and a tomato. Mmmm. Plus salt and pepper. It wasn’t much of a meal, but it was hot, filling, and easy.
Mom plopped my half of the okonomiyaki on a plate in front of me.
“I heard from the insurance company yesterday. They called me at work. It’s not good, Mei-chan. They’re saying February now—”
“February?” I nearly spat out my coffee. “We won’t survive till February.”
“I know,” she said, patting my hand. “But we only have to survive until around the end of the year. I’ll have my first paycheck in two weeks. I can pay off some outstanding bills and then we just need to get to the thirty-first. Then we’ll be able to buy groceries again.”
“Mom,” I pleaded, setting my coffee down and bringing my hands to prayer position. “Please, let me confide in Yasa-kun. He’d be happy to help us. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s going to break up with me when he finds out I’ve been keeping this from him.” I pictured him in my head, boiling mad, telling me to leave his restaurant and never come back. I could practically hear his voice saying he couldn’t trust me. This was going to end our relationship, and I… I wanted him. He was the one good thing to come of everything lately.
“Absolutely not. I invested three million yen in his restaurant and my share doesn’t pay dividends until next summer. I’m sure it’ll be money well spent, and I don’t want to pull out now. He’ll try to give me back the investment, but I’ll need that money for next fall.”
“But we need money now.”
“Mei-chan, it’s not your business.”
I clamped my mouth shut. I had no money of my own. What right did I have telling Mom what to do with hers?
Three weeks without buying groceries — my head hurt, a phantom low blood sugar headache pushing through, just thinking about that. I glanced at the pantry and took stock of what we had: cans of beans, wild rice, jars of pickles
, flour, and yeast. Plus cat food. Plenty of cat food. At least, Mimoji-chan would be well fed until we were financially stable again.
Maybe I would make bread. I should learn to bake bread. Bread was something I could make without setting the kitchen on fire, right?
“I’ll be able to eat at work, and I can take some food home with me if I don’t think they’ll notice.”
I cut into the egg pancake and speared a piece into my mouth. It melted in a puddle of intense flavors. Wow. Every time I ate Yasahiro’s cooking, I was reminded how amazing he was.
“Why don’t you just ask for the leftovers? I’d hate for them to accuse you of stealing.”
Mom’s face froze like concrete. “I won’t ask for handouts. It’s different to eat at work because that’s what they provide or to hang out at Chiyo’s bathhouse.”
“I’ve been asking for food from Yasa-kun!” I stomped my foot but it didn’t register under all the blankets.
“That’s different, too. He obviously loves you and doesn’t want to see you starve.”
I wanted to argue with her that he did not love me because he’d never said that, but I shut my mouth. She had a point.
“I’ll call him and give him an explanation he’ll believe so you won’t have to say anything. And I’ll, um… I’ll have to do some more cuts to expenses in the next few days or we run the risk of not having enough money to pay taxes in February, even with the insurance money, if we get it in time.” Mom’s brow furrowed as she ate the last of the food in front of her.
“What could you possibly cut now? Haven’t we cut pretty much everything already?”
“We’ll see,” she said, sipping her coffee. “I need to run the numbers. I’ll let you know.”
A pit grew in my stomach so large it threatened to swallow me whole.
I pulled up my shoulders and threw them back. “I’m going to Akiko-chan later today to ask for help. I have an idea of what I can do to earn money, and we’ll see if she can help me.”
The Daydreamer Detective Braves the Winter Page 5