The Daydreamer Detective Opens a Tea Shop

by S. J. Pajonas

  Fire had never been kind to me, especially not campfires.

  We tiptoed into the camp to find the surrounding area quiet and peaceful. A large tent was set up not far from the campfire, sheltering tables covered with food in plastic containers. On the other side of the tent, a circle of people sat on mats. I halted and waited, not wanting to disturb any of them. The meditators ranged in age from mid-twenties to possibly late-seventies or even eighties. Men and women from all walks of life, even foreigners, meditated with their eyes closed, their lips peaceful straight lines across their face.

  A young Japanese man in his early thirties appeared to be leading the group. He kept his eyes closed and hummed, reaching out to strike a small metal cymbal a few times.

  Kayo jerked her head at him and mouthed his name, “Kimura?” I nodded in response. This was Amanda’s ex-boyfriend.

  The man to his right, another face I recognized but couldn’t place, opened his eyes briefly and spotted us on the other side of the circle. We raised our hands in greeting, and his face grew pale as he nudged Shōta Kimura in the arm. Kimura ignored him and stayed with the meditation.

  Kayo’s jaw worked as she ground her teeth, but besides breaking in and stopping the proceedings, there wasn’t much we could do. I waved her over to the food tent, and even though the sandwiches and cookies weren’t for us, we each grabbed one and a coffee, then sat in the canvas chairs to wait.

  Twenty boring minutes later, in which Kayo and I did nothing but stare at each other because our phones got no service, Kimura broke off from the meditation and came to greet us.

  “Please excuse my rudeness, but it’s necessary to complete the meditation once it begins,” he said, while bowing to us. “I see you helped yourself to our food. That’s fine. You can leave compensation for it with the ryokan owner when you return there.”

  Interestingly enough, listening to his voice was exactly like listening to Amanda speak. It was as if he took my nerves and twisted them between his hands.

  “Now, I’m guessing you’re the police officer I spoke to last night?” he asked Kayo, waving us out of the food tent and away from his guests so we could have privacy. We stopped when we neared the forest’s edge, the man who sat beside Kimura right next to him.

  “I’m Kayo Mitsuwara with the Chikata Police Department.” Kayo bowed and presented her card to Kimura. He took it with both hands and returned her bow.

  “I apologize. I have no business cards on me. I didn’t expect anyone to come out here today.”

  “Why is that?” Kayo asked, taking out her notebook. “We called you yesterday to tell you Amanda Cheung had been killed, and we would come to question you soon.”

  “Soon?” He waved his hand in the air and shrugged his shoulders at the young man with him. “I didn’t expect today. Maybe a few days from now when I’d returned to Tokyo.” He examined his nails and ran his hand through his hair.

  “This is a murder investigation,” Kayo emphasized. “We don’t take murder lightly.”

  “Of course, of course.” He held up his hands. “Please, I want to be of help, but I haven’t seen Cheung-san in a few months.”

  Kayo nodded, her hair coming out from behind her ears. “Where were you Saturday afternoon, around 14:00?”

  Kimura directed his eyes at the sky for a moment. “I was here, leading a group meditation. This is a quarterly event, and I’m here even in the winter. I never miss it. Isn’t that right, Hiroshi-san?”

  The young man next to him looked surprised to be called on. “Yes, you’ve never missed a retreat.”

  “I’m assuming most of the people here in the group will vouch that you were here?” Kayo gestured to everyone gathered in the food tent now.

  Kimura frowned. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t bother them. They’re all here to find peace this week.”

  Kayo narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m trying to find peace for Amanda Cheung’s family. They’re grieving her death.”

  Kimura’s face remained placid. Had this man really dated Amanda? I found it troubling he wasn’t at all upset about her death. His friend, assistant, whatever, Hiroshi seemed more broken up. His eyes shimmered with tears while Kimura’s stayed dry.

  Kimura bowed again. “Of course. Her parents and friends must be distraught as am I. Ask questions of whomever you wish.”

  He gestured Kayo forward, and she went with Kimura back to the tent, leaving Hiroshi and me together.

  “How long did the two of them date?” I asked him, not introducing myself. I didn’t think anyone would care.

  Hiroshi startled when I spoke to him, and he turned to take a step away from me.

  “They were together for about nine months? Most of that apart.”

  “Was Amanda working overseas?”

  “Yeah. She was writing her book in America.” The way he spat out “book,” I got the feeling he wasn’t a fan of Amanda nor her work.

  “Have you read it?”

  “No,” he gasped, pulling away from me. “I would never. Kimura-san didn’t approve of her book.”

  It never occurred to me to read her book. It could be full of clues!

  “Why didn’t he approve?”

  Hiroshi shifted back and forth, glancing at the food tent. I looked where his eyes were directed and made eye contact with Kimura. He was watching us.

  “Kimura-san is a very private person. It’s why his relationship with Cheung-san didn’t last. Excuse me.”

  He took off toward a side tent, darting in and zipping the opening closed behind him.

  In this day and age, people only hid a few things from the public, and Kimura’s gaze was overly protective and commanding. He had some sway over Hiroshi.

  Kimura locked eyes with me and didn’t let go, sending a cold chill from my boots up my spine. I pursed my lips and turned away before he froze me in place for good.

  Dread pulled at my gut when I thought about this complex life Amanda had led. She’d hidden in the shadows and donned masks in public. I’d be lucky if I figured out even a tenth of her secrets.

  We needed to get back to Chikata. I had a lot of digging to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kayo dropped me off in the driveway at home, and I took a deep breath of cool, spring air before cringing. I smelled of campfire. Most people thought the smell of a campfire was pleasant, even happy or joyful, but not me. Maybe someday I would love it again, but not any time soon.

  I stopped at the side of the house to watch the men rebuilding Mom’s barn. Today, they were snaking in electricity, burying cables in the lawn, and installing electrical boxes and lights. In another week or so, they’d be done, and Mom would be back in business.

  Speaking of which, Mom appeared out of the shed, her gloves in her hands and her second apron covered in dirt.

  “Got the rest of the field ready for shiso,” she said, gesturing to the South fields. They looked freshly turned and prepped for planting.

  “Great. Want some help after lunch?”

  She smiled at me before waving me to the house. “I love that you’re around now to help out. I’m still very glad you came home to Chikata. The house is a much happier place.”

  This must’ve been her way of apologizing for last night, and my hardened heart eased a bit.

  I waved her off with a small smile. “Please, Mom. It’s the least I can do.”

  I followed her into the house, and we left our shoes by the front door. Mimoji-chan came running, looking for love and attention. Mom scooped him up and carried him on her shoulder into the kitchen.

  Sitting at the island, I groaned. My legs ached from climbing the hills this morning. “What’s for lunch?” Please say noodles. Please say noodles, I chanted in my head. I would’ve given anything for a big bowl of carbs right then.

  “Leftovers.” Mom pointed to the refrigerator, and I deflated. I knew what was in there. Tofu and vegetables for lunch. I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of Akiko’s house. If she’d been home, I�
��d be eating ramen with her.

  “Did you speak with Yasahiro-san this morning while you were gone?” Mom tried to sound innocent, but she was fishing to find out if we’d broken up.

  “No. Kayo-san said the police have him under house arrest, so I wanted to let him be. I’ll talk to him soon.” Her face dropped, and my stomach knotted. Great. She would really press this issue. “I’m going to change out of my clothes first. I smell.”

  Mom crinkled her nose in my direction. “You smell like the outside. Why change if we’re going back out later?”

  I sniffed my shirt and shrugged my shoulders. “Really. I’ll be right back.” I ran to my room, tossing my shirt and pants into the laundry bin and glancing at the photo of Yasahiro. Every moment I didn’t spend looking for Amanda’s killer was another moment he went on worried about his future, our future. I wasn’t going to break up with him. I was going to save him.

  Over tofu, rice, and vegetables in the dining room, I filled Mom in on everything that had happened that morning.

  Mom hummed while she pushed the rice around her bowl. “And this assistant of Kimura’s?”

  “Hiroshi. What about him?”

  “You don’t think it’s strange the way he hurried off when you were questioning him?”

  “Maybe he’s just the nervous type?” I grabbed the bowl of miso soup and sipped. The broth warmed me from the inside out.

  “But if he likes his boss, he would stick around, answer Kayo-san’s questions, and be as helpful as possible.”

  “Instead, he ran away from me.” His swift departure, the way he sprinted for the tent and zipped himself in, reminded me of a guilty toddler, hiding from his mom. “Huh.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows at me, and I set my bowl down and attempted not to curse. Could he be a suspect too?

  “I feel so lost in this mess right now.” I sighed and pushed away the last remnants of my lunch. “The way Amanda treated everyone around her, there could be a million different people who would want her dead.”

  Mom shrugged her shoulders and sat back to let Mimoji-chan onto her lap. He purred and circled twice before lying down.

  “You won’t know until you get more information. Right now, it’s like searching for a pebble in the dark. You won’t find much.”

  I grabbed my phone from the other side of the table and looked at the screen. No recent texts or phone calls. Even Kumi was lying low, but she could’ve been busy or resting because she was pregnant. This was such a mess, anyway. I didn’t want to involve her if I didn’t have to.

  “I’m actually waiting on someone to get back to me with more information, but I only spoke to her yesterday. She probably needs at least twenty-four hours to work her magic.”

  “Do I want to know what you’re referring to?” Mom asked, gathering up the plates.

  “No.” I frowned, gathering mine. “It’s best if you don’t get too involved. I can’t let anything happen to this house or you again. We’ve already been through enough.”

  We deposited everything in the kitchen and joined the workers outside to take a look at the barn. While Mom spoke to the foreman, I walked the length of newly planted fields. Inhaling deeply to calm my nerves, I smelled smoke again. I looked left and right and then smelled myself. It wasn’t coming from me. Akiko’s house across the street was cold and dark, and Senahara’s house even further along was also vacant for the day.

  I turned around and tested the wind. The smoke was coming from the opposite side of our field, in the woods, about half a kilometer away. I squinted my eyes in that direction but didn’t see anything out of place.

  Mom joined me as I turned back to the barn. “Time to plant shiso?” she asked, but I shook my head.

  “Actually, let’s go for a walk.”

  I led Mom along the back edge of the property, remembering when Yasahiro and I walked there together after we first started dating. That felt like a lifetime ago.

  “Do you smell that?” Mom whispered at me, and I nodded.

  “I didn’t tell you I saw a boy out by the shed last night.”

  “You didn’t tell me?” Mom’s voice rose, and I shushed her.

  “I thought it was some boy from town out exploring. Sorry,” I whispered. I wanted to remind her that she was too busy telling me to break up with Yasahiro, but I thought I should let that be. “So, I’m wondering if… Maybe…”

  I calmed my voice as I followed a beaten trail into the woods. Someone had been this way a few times, sidestepping the long grass near the entrance so no one in the fields would recognize the path. As we tip-toed farther into the trees, more sounds filtered to us. A crackling fire and the rhythmic thump of a ball being kicked over and over made me pause. Someone was definitely in the woods.

  Mom and I rounded a bend on the path and the area opened into a small clearing, one I remembered playing in as a kid, back before I was burned. A minivan sat nearby, through the woods, and closer to the road. They had flattened the long grass and chopped down a few trees to wedge the van into the forest and camouflage it.

  A campfire burned near two tents, and a little boy, the same one I’d seen the previous night, kicked a soccer ball in the air with his back to us.

  Whoever they were had been camping for some time. Laundry hung on makeshift lines between trees, and a separate camping stove was on the opposite side of camp next to a washing bin. To the right of the washing bin, Mom’s apron and knife were laid on an old tree stump.

  “Hello?” Mom called out, and I jumped, unprepared for her voice.

  The boy whipped around, fear making his facial features run slack, and a woman about my age, maybe a little older, ran out of the woods.

  “Ichi-chan!” she called to him, and he ran to her. They turned to run away, so I threw my hands up in the air.

  “Whoa! It’s okay! We’re not here to give you any problems.”

  Along the forest’s edge, in the sunlight, a small plot of land had been dug up and turned into a vegetable patch, Mom’s missing gardening tools sitting on the border of it. These people had intended to stay.

  The mother picked up and clutched her son to her, though he was about three years too old to be held. Mom and I edged around the campfire and came a little closer.

  “Sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you, but I smelled the fire, and… Well, I had a feeling someone would be in here.”

  The mother cringed and dropped her eyes. “Ichiro said a woman at the house had seen him yesterday. Do you live there?”

  “Yeah,” I said, gesturing to Mom, “it’s our family’s house and land.”

  Her face hardened into straight lines. “Are you going to call the police?”

  Mom uttered a quick chuckle, and I shook my head. “Uh no. The police are really busy right now, anyway.” I looked around their campsite. “Is your husband or anyone else with you?”

  She let Ichiro down, and he picked up his soccer ball, keeping an eye on Mom and me.

  “No. I don’t have a husband.” I waited for a moment to see if she would elaborate, but she clamped her mouth shut.

  I sighed. “Where are you from?”

  “Kumamoto. We lost our house in the earthquake.”

  “Oh no.” My heart ached for her as she relaxed, seeing our concern.

  “I was living paycheck to paycheck, and we only had enough money for one tank of gas. My family was supposed to send money for me to an aunt north of here. I thought we could make it, but we didn’t.”

  “Mom’s phone died, too,” Ichiro said, butting in. His mom laid her hand on his head and leaned over to kiss his hair.

  “Not the best getaway plan I’ve ever come up with, right?” she asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders.

  “Okay,” Mom said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “Where are you heading to? I’m sure we can help.”

  “No! No, I couldn’t possibly intrude on your kindness. I’ve already” — she gulped and averted her eyes — “stolen several things from you I shouldn’t ha
ve.”

  “Mom.” Ichiro dragged out her name into three long syllables. “I want to go back to school.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” She was close to crying, so I stepped forward and put my hand on her shoulder.

  “No, really. We can help. Where do you need to go? Your car is dead?”

  After a few more words, we sat near her campfire, and her story unraveled. Aya had been driving north to Hokkaido when she ran out of gas on the road right here. They had been in the woods for two weeks. She was a single mom and had ended up far away from Hokkaido and her family after school. She tried to make a life for herself after she got pregnant, but it was tough for her to get ahead. And after going through a period of estrangement from her parents, they now wanted her back.

  “What were you planning to do?” Mom asked, waving at their camp.

  “We hoped to camp for a month or two, and I could find a few odd jobs. Enough to buy gas to make it to my aunt. From there we would be okay. I didn’t want to steal from you, but I asked for help in town, and no one even looked at me.” She threw a small branch into the fire, and I turned my face from the licking flames. “I was afraid the police would arrest me for trespassing if I went to them.”

  I knew this feeling of hopelessness and destitution all too well, though I had ten times more than they did on the days I was at my worst. Peeking at my phone, I saw we were approaching early afternoon. I doubted they had had anything to eat.

  I glanced at Mom, and she nodded. We didn’t even need to discuss it.

  “It’s not safe for you to stay out here, Aya-san. Why don’t you and Ichiro-san come stay with us for a few days? Mei-chan or I will be happy to drive you to your aunt’s house to collect your money, and then we’ll help you get on your way, too, okay?”

  Aya burst into tears, and Ichiro threw his arms around her.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said, bowing over and over.

  Well, at least one mystery had been solved. I just needed to work on all the other ones.