The Daydreamer Detective Braves the Winter

by S. J. Pajonas

  I walked past him on unsteady legs and flipped on the light in the bathroom. “What kind of businesses have you invested in? Anything I would know about?”

  “Actually, I was invested in Etsuko-san’s business before she passed away. That’s how we knew each other. Did you know she had a bento box company? She sold bento boxes online and from a store front. If your current business model doesn’t work out, I could show you how to do what she did instead.”

  I had my back turned to him, examining the tub and medicine cabinet, so I wasn’t ready for his fingers to brush along the back of my neck. If I had seen them coming, I would’ve been prepared. Instead, my instincts kicked in, and I shrank away from his touch. His smile dissolved to a frown, and I pushed past him to continue my tour, but his hand came down on my upper arm in a vice-like grip.

  Warning sirens blared in my head. We had gone from friendly and chatty to possessive and prone to assault in less than a minute.

  “Don’t run away from me, Mei. I can show you the bedroom, if you like.”

  “Uh, no. That’s okay.” My voice warbled, and I jerked my arm, but he held on tight. My heart beat like a taiko drum in my ears.

  This was about to barrel into dangerous territory. If I didn’t signal the alarm soon, Takahara would overwhelm me, and he’d rape or kill me while Goro sat out in the hallway. I couldn’t let that happen. My mom depended on me. My new clients needed me. And I had too much life to let this guy take it, like he took Etsuko’s.

  “Tell me, Fujita—” I stressed his first name since he dropped the honorific with mine. “How upset were you when Etsuko-san died? If she was such a good friend, and you were invested in her business, I should have heard more about you through her. She never said a thing to me.”

  He squeezed my arm even harder, and I winced in pain. “What do you care?”

  “I cared about Etsuko.” I steeled my voice and hardened my body. “So, where were you the night she died?” His eyes widened. “She was murdered in her own home, right above us. If you had been here, you would have known.”

  He shoved me at the bedroom, and my feet skidded across the hardwood floors, almost landing me on my butt. “I was away on a business trip to Hong Kong,” he growled, his jaw set.

  My face dropped, and I groaned. Really? If he had been gone, then the only other person who could have killed her was Hisashi. I didn’t believe it. He loved her!

  What if everything I believed about love was false? Hisashi had loved her and killed her. I was close to tears, my thoughts reeling from Hisashi to Takahara closing in on me to Yasahiro. What had happened with Yasahiro and Amanda? What if he had loved her, and he cheated on her? He’d never said he loved me. Who did I trust?

  Could I trust anybody? My brain shut down, and my mouth dried out. Nothing made sense!

  An evil grin crossed Takahara’s face, and I sensed I was in a lot of trouble. I was debating love and betrayal in my head while a hungry and obviously desperate man had me cornered in a bedroom. I glanced around the room, hoping to find a weapon of some sort — anything would do, a lamp or even a heavy book. But my gaze skipped over the bare room and landed on the nightstand.

  Etsuko’s phone! Her phone that had been missing since she was killed! It was sitting right there, and there was no mistaking it was hers with the bright pink owl case and charm dangling from the side. My breathing deepened, and my ears rushed with heat. He had lied. Of course, he’d lied!

  Takahara followed my line of sight, and his face contorted in anger before he lunged across the bed at me. I opened my mouth and screamed, the kind of scream I’d only ever heard come of out me in the burning barn. I was sure people could hear it for kilometers.

  Dodging to the side, I slammed into the doors of the closet, knocking one of its tracks enough for the door to come tumbling down on me. Takahara crashed against the wall, groaning before jumping up and scrambling after me. I made it to the hallway before his hand clasped onto the waistband of my jeans, pulling my feet out from under me. My butt hit the hardwood floor with a thump, and a shock of pain radiated up my tailbone. The door to the apartment exploded open with a deafening crack, slamming into the wall with bits of wood flying in every direction.

  “Halt!” Goro ran in and vaulted over the cardboard boxes in his way. Takahara let me go, pushing me over, and sprinting into the bedroom. I turned my head in time to watch him slide open the window and crawl out, jumping to the ground.

  “Kayo!” Goro bellowed, so loud I had to cover my ears with my hands. I struggled to my feet and followed him to the window. We both leaned out and looked down. Takahara was writhing on the snow covered ground, clutching his leg while Kayo and another police officer stood over him. Two other officers ran up the block, one shouting into a phone for backup and an ambulance.

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief and threw my arms around Goro, laughing and thanking him over and over.

  “Mei-chan, are you okay?” he asked, looking into my red, tear-stained face. “Did he hurt you?” He patted me down, checking to make sure I was uninjured.

  “I’ll be okay.” I sniffed up and pointed to the bedside table. “Look. It’s Etsuko-san’s phone. I saw it here and that’s when Takahara tried to attack me.”

  I sat down on the bed, my legs shaking so badly I couldn’t stand. Goro took two large steps to the table, as sirens blared in the distance. He pulled a glove from his pocket, put it on, and picked up the phone. “It’s still locked,” he said, sighing. “Maybe he was trying the PIN number over and over. We’re lucky he hadn’t figured out how to wipe the memory yet.”

  Kayo came running into the apartment.

  “Is everyone okay?” She glanced at us both and nodded her head as we nodded ours. “Takahara-san broke his leg in the fall. Not very bright to jump from a second-story window.”

  “He doubtless thought he was invincible,” Goro muttered. “Do you have an evidence bag?” Kayo produced one from her pocket, and Goro dropped the phone in. “This is Etsuko-san’s missing phone. We’ll have to inventory everything in here, and then the prosecutor can handle contacting the owners of all that stuff.” He waved to the boxes out in the living space.

  “What happened?” Kayo asked, and I leaned forward to put my face in my hands, trying to compose myself.

  “Mei-chan cornered and confronted him, he tried to attack her, and I broke in just in time.” Goro sat next to me on the bed. “This one is made of bravery.” He patted my knee before putting his arm around my shoulder. “Good job, Mei-chan. We got him.”

  I guessed I was a lot braver than I gave myself credit for.

  Chapter Thirty

  It was Christmas Day, and the bitter cold weather of December had finally edged away, some snow had melted, and water was flowing at the farmhouse. Mom was at home a few days per week, but I was not. I’d decided I wasn’t going home until the house could warm itself. Instead, I was wrapped in a blanket with Yasahiro on his couch. This was our favorite place to be, beside the bed. I loved to sit between his legs, press my back against his chest, and talk for hours. Today, though, we were waiting for Hisashi to drop by. After Takahara had been arrested, he confessed his crimes and now sat in jail where he should be. I wasn’t usually a vengeful person, but I hoped he would stay there for the rest of his life.

  “After Hisashi-san stops by for a visit, I want to talk about your Christmas present,” Yasahiro said, leaning forward and kissing me on my neck. Warmth spread across my chest until I realized what he’d said.

  “Christmas present? I didn’t realize we were going to exchange Christmas presents.” My stomach sank in despair. I was still barely scraping by, making only a couple hundred yen per week, and eating Yasahiro’s food. I didn’t expect to be financially solvent until summer when Mom and I were harvesting vegetables consistently every week. Until then, I was broke.

  “Were not exchanging Christmas presents. I’m giving you a Christmas present. There’s a difference.” He squeezed me in his arms, and I couldn’
t turn around to discern how serious he was. Maybe the gift was something small, something he had purchased in Paris, and I didn’t have to worry about feeling indebted to him? He took a deep breath and squeezed me again, sighing out a long exhale as I rested my head on his chest. “I missed you while I was gone, and this last week has been so hectic between the restaurant, your clients, and your statements to the police. I was thinking we’d take off three days next week and head out to an onsen for the weekend. How about it? We’ll go for the new year and ring it in together.”

  “I’d love to! Oh, I haven’t had a vacation or time off in almost two years.” I stared wistfully out the window and dreamed of soaking in the hot water, laughing while eating good food and drinking saké, sleeping together in a bed that wasn’t our own. A romantic getaway! “Unfortunately, I don’t count being unemployed as a vacation.”

  He laughed, and I savored the sound of his voice. “No. Sometimes being unemployed is harder work than being employed what with the constant resume sending, interviews, …” He didn’t need to go on. I hadn’t been invited to any interviews from the hundreds of resumes I had sent. I had promised myself I would start over in January, and I was dreading starting up again. There was nothing worse than rejection on a daily basis.

  The doorbell rang, and our snuggling time was over. Yasahiro jumped up from his couch and ran to the door to buzz Hisashi in. I stood up, folded our blanket, and put it away in the basket at the end of the couch. Hisashi entered on a gust of cold air, and I was surprised by how changed he was. I hadn’t seen him since Etsuko’s death. He had been in police custody, and once Takahara had been arrested, Hisashi was released and returned home to Chiba.

  His face was thin, and his clothes hung off of him. His skin, mottled with a tint of unhealthy gray, was papery and dry, and he just seemed sad. Even his hair seemed sad, all shaggy and unkempt. It was as if the life had been sucked out of him by Etsuko’s death and his false imprisonment.

  “Hey,” he said softly, clearing his throat like he hadn’t talked in a year. He waved to me, and I bowed while he clasped hands with Yasahiro.

  “Thanks for coming by,” Yasahiro said, directing him to the dining table. “This wasn’t something we could do over the phone.”

  “That’s okay. But I feel strange about coming back here, and I doubt I’ll ever come here again. I quit my job on Monday.” He sank into a chair at the table. “And I think I’m going to move south, to Nagoya. I don’t know. I’m packed and ready to go, but for some reason, I just can’t move on.”

  “I understand, more than you know.” Yasahiro’s voice was solemn and sympathetic, and once again, I wondered what happened between him and Amanda. He had a past I was unaware of, and it had made him a complex and wonderful person. I really wondered…

  “Can I get you some coffee?” I turned to the kitchen, but Yasahiro caught my arm. He was gentle with me lately, knowing the painful bruises on my arm and shoulder from my fight with Takahara were still tender.

  “Let me serve coffee. You go get the box.”

  Hisashi’s eyebrows drew together, but I headed into the bedroom without explanation. Getting on my hands and knees, I reached under the bed and drew out Etsuko’s cashbox. Goro told me only one person brought up the fact that Etsuko had no cash on hand in her office, and he was immediately silenced by the chief. They’d theorized she took the money and stashed it someplace because she was sure she was in danger. They considered the money a loss and moved on to other parts of the investigation.

  I held the box between my hands and set it on the table in front of Hisashi.

  “I have something for you,” I said, sitting down across from him. “When Goro-chan and I were searching Etsuko-san’s office, we found this cashbox. After looking at a few invoices, we were sure this was her legitimate money. This was money she made from selling bento boxes, and I felt it was wrong to be seized by the police. It was my idea to take the money and hold it in trust for you.”

  He stared at the gray, metal box, so I reached out and pushed it to him. He hesitantly fiddled with the front clasp before opening the box.

  “I counted it twice, and that’s 313,400 yen. Enough for you to get a head start someplace else. You can use it for a deposit on a new apartment or something.”

  “No,” he said, pushing the box to me. “I can’t take this money.”

  “Of course you can.” I pushed the box back to him. “She worked hard to earn this money. She wanted to start a family with you someday.” His eyes began to water, but I kept going. “She would’ve wanted you to have this money. It was important to her.”

  Yasahiro sat next to me, setting a coffee cup down in front of Hisashi. “You know how much she loved you,” Yasahiro said softly.

  “If she loved me so much, why did she get involved with Takahara? I’ve been asking myself this question over and over. Why did she do this when she could’ve just asked me for help? The bento box company was one thing. She loved it. But the money laundering?” He hissed, drawing air through his teeth and closing his eyes. He sounded like a wounded animal, his voice distorted by the intense emotions he had locked up inside.

  “Try not to be too hard on her. From what I can tell, she got mixed up in this without realizing she was laundering money. She thought he was an investor. By the time she figured out his scheme, it was too late.” I got up from the table and retrieved a box of tissues from the bathroom. He took one, dabbing at his eyes.

  “Regardless, I can’t take this money. It’s over. Her life is over, and that part of my life with her is over. I want a clean slate now. I want to live someplace where I’m not constantly reminded of her — to move on.” His voice quavered and cracked, his head dipping. “And I feel so guilty for saying that, for wanting that. But I can’t take the money.”

  I placed my hand over my heart to stop the ache.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “I understand. Is there anything you want me to do with the money? I can donate it or gift it to someone in particular…”

  He sucked in a deep breath to compose himself, taking a noisy sip of his coffee. “Are you still working with Murata-san? The woman who lives across the hall from where Etsuko lived?”

  “Yes.” I perked up, hoping he’d tell me to give the money to her. “I see her four times a week.”

  “Goro-chan was telling me about your business ideas, and he said you were thinking about opening a tea house in town, as a place for the elderly to meet up, like Murata-san.”

  Yasahiro took my hand under the table and squeezed. He’d been listening to me talk about this idea for the last week, quietly absorbing my chatter, even though I always concluded I couldn’t pull it off. I had a business degree and knew what was involved in starting a business but getting the money and investors were another story.

  “I’ve been thinking about it. Well, I’ve been talking about it a lot.” I laughed, trying to inject a little humor into the situation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m going to do something.”

  Hisashi closed the cashbox and pushed it to me. “Here. Etsuko loved spending time with Murata-san. She always said Murata-san reminded her of her grandmother. I think if she were here, she would have loved your idea and she would want to invest.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but he raised his hand and silenced me. “Trust me. This money should stay in Chikata. Etsuko never wanted to leave this town, and I had hoped to have raised our children here someday. It’s the right thing to do.”

  He stood up giving me no chance to argue any further. “I need to get going. Thank you for having me over, especially on Christmas Day.” He glanced down at the cashbox again but turned for the door.

  I sat in stunned silence, unable to stand up and see him off.

  While Yasahiro walked Hisashi down the stairs, I shook off the shock and went to the windows over the street. From here I could see Etsuko’s family’s izakaya down the block, the dry cleaner open and busy across the street, and the cobbler right next
door. Not many people took off Christmas Day since it wasn’t a national holiday here. The Emperor’s birthday was only a few days ago, and many people had taken that day off instead. On the sidewalk, Yasahiro and Hisashi spoke to each other, shook hands, bowed, and Hisashi walked off in the direction away from the izakaya.

  “It’s warmer outside,” Yasahiro said, returning to the apartment, “but it’s still pretty cold out there.” He glanced between me at the window and the cashbox sitting on the dining table. He walked over and placed his hand on it. “Mei-chan, this is an unexpected gift. I had no idea he would do that.”

  “Me neither. I don’t feel like I deserve it, though. That money should stay with her family.”

  “I knew you’d say that, but you put a lot of work and devotion into catching Etsuko’s murderer. You helped put Takahara in jail. That’s worth a lot all on its own.” He joined me and squeezed my hand. “Put on your shoes and come downstairs with me.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him and he laughed.

  “I’m not saying anything until you come with me.” He raised his eyebrows back at me, and for some reason (probably hormones), I couldn’t resist him.

  I slipped on my shoes and followed him down the stairs. He hadn’t told me to put on a coat, and he wasn’t wearing one himself, so I wasn’t surprised when he opened the door to the vacant retail space.

  “Oh good!” I clutched at his sweater. “I’ve been dying to see inside of here. Hase-san, from next door, said this place used to be owned by a brush maker, and he was bought out by a famous brush maker in the North. I had never been here as a kid.”

  He ushered me in and flipped on the lights. The space wasn’t big, given the footprint of his apartment above. Glass cases lined the front window, and along the other three sides were many wooden shelves. A small cash register spot sat opposite the door.