Kumi laughed as she took a fork full of mashed potatoes and pointed them at Yasahiro. “It’s better than Gundam.”
“Barely.” Actually, it would be a good idea to go through all my old manga and look at names from there.
Kumi sighed and closed her eyes. “Yasa-kun, I love when you make French cuisine.” She stared down at her plate, pouting. “I don’t get enough of it.”
“Kumi-chan’s been eating five meals a day! Even I can’t keep up.” Goro shook his head. “I guess breastfeeding makes you hungry.”
“I’ve heard it does.” Yasahiro reached across the table and pushed my dish towards me. I had gotten distracted and stopped eating, not that I could eat a lot anyway at this stage. I got the smallest piece of steak of everyone because I was sure I wouldn’t eat it all, but then be hungry in an hour. What I needed was a small, constant stream of food. “And I’m happy to make whatever kind of food you want, Kumi-chan. Just say the word.”
“Not that I don’t love your food from Sawayaka.”
“Of course,” he said, stopping to drink. “It’s good to have variety though. Speaking of variety, did you hear what Mei-chan is up to the next few days?”
“No! Do tell.” Kumi’s eyes were wide with the prospect of gossip.
“Akai-san came to me yesterday —”
“To flirt with you?” Goro asked, leaning forward, eager for news.
“No. Ugh. You are such a pain about this.” Everyone else laughed as I blushed. “She’s been totally fine, especially since we got married.” I cleared my throat as Goro acted like I was just being silly. “Anyway, you’ll never guess what Akai-san inherited.”
“A boat,” Kumi said.
“A barn full of chickens,” Goro guessed.
“Ria Fukuda’s old house.” I punctuated each word with a stab of my fork into the salad on my plate.
“Ehhhhh!” Goro stopped chewing mid-bite. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious.”
Goro chewed in silence, his eyes focused on the window overlooking the street. The sun was setting, bathing everything outside in shades of peach and strawberry. I suddenly really wanted fruit.
“Wow. I haven’t thought of her in a long time.” He cut his steak and paused. “Did you know that her disappearance is the reason I became a police officer?”
“No. I didn’t know that.” I set my knife and fork down, eager to turn all my attention to him.
“I didn’t either. Though I remember you mentioning her,” Kumi said, finishing her potatoes. She was eating faster than any of us.
“She was in the grade above mine at school, and she used to tutor me in math during study periods. I was always horrible at math. Before an exam, she would quiz me on the walk into town from the bus. That’s how I met Akai-san, on those walks. Sometimes Ria would meet up with Tama-san, Kohei-san, and everyone else at the manga shop.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I waved my hand in between us, almost knocking over my glass of wine. Yasahiro saved it at the last minute. “Kohei-san went to our school?”
Kohei Watanabe was that idiot jerk of a policeman who got all up in my business during Amanda’s murder investigation. He’d accused me of getting involved with the case because “it turned me on.” Gross. There was nothing hot or sexy about murder.
“Yeah. You didn’t know that?”
I stopped for a moment, letting this new information sink in. Kayo, Goro’s fellow police officer and partner, told me that Kohei’s cousin was Haruka Shinaya. I hadn’t seen her since Tama went to jail. She had been Tama’s old fiancée and my old high school rival. I guessed this was why Kohei had been stationed in Chikata, even though he wanted to serve in Tokyo. Now the assignment made sense.
“Kayo-san didn’t specify why he was here except that he’s Haruka-san’s cousin.”
Goro shrugged. “Kayo-san’s not from around here. I doubt she would’ve known. Anyway, Kohei-san went to our school only for one year. He, Tama, Ria — they all knew each other.”
They were all connected, and I had no idea. But I wasn’t surprised. Akiko and I were five years younger than Ria, Tama, and Akai. We weren’t even in senior high school at the same time as they were. Goro was in his last year of senior high when I entered the junior high school, and Kumi was a year younger than me. There were plenty of years between us all to keep us out of the same social circles.
“So, Akai-san inherited the Fukuda house? That’s interesting.” Goro stroked his chin and ran his hand through his hair. “But she did spend a lot of time with Fukuda-san after Ria went missing.”
“Supposedly, he had no family to give the house to, and Akai-san has known for a few years she would inherit the house and everything in it.”
Goro returned to his meal. “They probably set up a will ahead of time at the prefectural office. I wonder what you’ll find in that house.”
I returned to my meal as well, glancing across the table at Yasahiro swirling his wine in his glass.
“I made a peach tart for dessert, and there’s vanilla ice cream for on top,” he said, changing the conversation.
“Sounds delicious. I’ll have an extra helping.” Kumi’s wide grin stretched across her face, the rest of her meal already in her belly. “Sugar. I have a huge weakness for sugar right now.”
“You know, Mei-chan,” Goro said, helping himself to another serving of salad while Yasahiro got up to prepare dessert. “I’d really like to know if you find anything in the house that pertains to Ria’s disappearance. I’d have to look it up, but I think they closed her case years ago. If not, we could look into opening it again, if new evidence was found.”
“If I find anything, you’ll be the first person I call. But don’t worry, I doubt I’ll find anything. My days of drama are over.” I swiped my hands together like I was ridding myself of extra flour after kneading dough. “I think I’ve earned it after what happened with Amanda.”
“Indeed you have.” Kumi reached over to squeeze my hand. “No more drama. No more bad luck.”
I laughed, throwing my head back. “Well, I don’t think I’ll get rid of bad luck that easily.”
“Mei-chan and bad luck go together like strawberries and cream,” Yasahiro said, cutting into the peach tart. I had helped with the dessert by peeling and chopping the peaches, something I was getting better at the more I practiced. “But don’t worry. We always manage to handle it.”
“You all need to stop tempting fate,” Goro mumbled.
“You’re right about that,” I replied, raising my wine glass to him.
He raised his as well. “Be careful this week, Mei-chan. And remember to call me if you need any help.”
Chapter Six
After three days of wading through junk in the Fukuda house, I could finally see the floors in the front room. No wonder Akai didn’t want to spend all of her waking moments sifting through decades of Fukuda’s life. He kept every takeout box, every newspaper, every magazine, every receipt, every dried-up pen, every rubber band he’d ever had. His desk was a graveyard of broken and desiccated office supplies.
In one closet alone, he had collected five or six dozen bottles of booze, each with varying levels of liquid left in them. Dumping them down the drain actually gave me a contact high. Several of the workers Akai hired begged me to let them have the bottles. No way. Who knew what was in them? And I didn’t want to be responsible if they got brain damage from illegal alcohol.
But his alcohol collection was nothing compared to the soap collection in the bathroom closet. He must’ve collected them from every hotel he ever stayed in and stolen ones from other people too because how else would anyone ever have 378 mini soaps?
The house was like a time capsule. When I thought back to the time in which Ria, Goro, Akai, and I grew up, Fukuda’s hoarding tendencies made sense. Our town had been in the dumps, decaying around us as people moved into the city. Jobs became sparse, and many of us scraped by, paycheck to paycheck. This was the leanest time for my family, and I remember sev
eral years that brought my own mother to tears. Stockpiling every last resource was what people had done during the Great Depression and the years following, so I wasn’t too surprised to find newspapers older than I was. I was surprised to find a dead mouse in a pile though.
“We’re going to take the boxes next to the front door, and then we’re off for lunch,” Abehito, the foreman in charge, said as I pulled a cold bottle of water from the fridge.
“Is it lunchtime already?” I looked at the clock on the wall and cursed myself again for checking a clock that had probably been dead for quite some time. How long had the man gone without changing the batteries?
Abehito laughed. “You should get rid of that clock next. It’s a little after noon.” He narrowed his eyes at me as I gingerly set myself in a chair at the kitchen table. I’d been on my feet for at least two hours, setting aside the broken junk from the stuff that could be sold at the estate sale. “Are you all right? You look tired.”
“I’m fine. I’m always tired. The baby doesn’t let me rest.” And just then he or she kicked up a storm so much I squealed and jumped forward in my seat.
“Oh my! You have a fighter in there!” Abehito’s eyes widened. “You’ll have to enroll that one in karate or jujitsu.”
“Probably, if I want to get any rest,” I said, rubbing my hand over my belly. It wasn’t often that anybody else could see the baby move but me. At twenty weeks, I still wasn’t big enough for people to even assume I was pregnant. Soon I hoped to have Yasahiro feel the baby move, but it hadn’t happened yet.
“Hello!” The front door slammed shut, and Akai’s voice echoed through the front of the house.
“We’re in the kitchen!” I called out, and Akai, dressed in her usual out-in-public black t-shirt and black skirt, lumbered past Abehito. This outfit was preferred over her staying-home flowered housecoat. She nodded at Abehito as she looked around the room, noting our progress.
“I brought you lunch from your awesome husband,” she said, setting a bag on the table.
I opened the bag and pulled out the containers while Abehito and Akai spoke about our current state of affairs. Yasahiro sent me chicken cutlets! Oh, how I loved him. Chicken cutlets, rice, steamed carrots, and miso soup for lunch. My mouth watered despite how hot and sweaty I was. He had stayed home this morning to cook before opening the tea shop for me. I hoped he didn’t have any problems getting things situated. I flipped over my phone on the table, and there were no new messages. He was fine, and I was worrying for no reason.
“So, how much is left?” Akai asked.
“The front two rooms have been emptied, and the remaining boxes are packed up for the estate sale. We now have to finish the kitchen, the bathroom, and the two back bedrooms. I would say we have another four days of work left.” Abehito consulted with his phone, scrolling through a list he’d made the day he started. He was organized and prompt. Akai picked her contractors well. “Yep, about four days.”
She smiled, pleased with the news. “That’s perfect. The people I hired to run the estate sale said they can come sometime next week and go through all the leftover boxes. You and your team are doing great work.”
They bowed to each other, and Abehito said, “I’m glad you think so. My company is grateful for the work.” He bowed again. “We’re heading out for lunch and should be back around 13:30.” He waved as he left the kitchen, and I was pleased to hear he didn’t let the door slam in the front room.
“I wonder how long that front door has been broken,” I said, sipping more cold water and turning up the air conditioning.
“Probably as long as that clock on the wall’s been broken.”
“Probably. Are you staying for lunch?” I reached out with my foot and pushed the chair on the other side of the table so Akai could sit down.
“I already ate.” She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. “I had to drop off a project to someone across town, so I stopped by your apartment to pick up food for you. But I’ll sit.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” This was a treat. The bus ride across town would’ve taken me twenty minutes, so instead, I would’ve walked to the convenience store and ate substandard food that Yasahiro swore would make the baby come out with two heads.
And he thought I was dramatic?
“It was the least I could do.” She watched me as I dipped my chicken cutlet into the sauce and took a bite. I was sure my eyes rolled back into my head. “That good, eh?” She laughed as I immediately took a second bite. “Well, I guess he deserves that Michelin star.”
“He’d never admit that he deserves the star, but he does,” I said, nabbing a clump of rice with my chopsticks. “You said you finished off a project?”
“Yeah. I had a huge database I had to pull together in a rush job which means you get my help for the rest of the afternoon.” Her face was glum and depressed. Being in this house wasn’t easy for her, but I had to give her credit for wanting to help.
While I ate, we chatted about the house and what we’d found already, the treasures amongst the trash. Besides the box of unused toothbrushes I unearthed today, there hadn’t been any exciting discoveries. A few days ago, Akai had taken home a fairly large collection of black lacquerware and some crystal bowls. She was confident she would make money on the kitchen appliances and the furniture which had all been painstakingly cared for. Otherwise, she was happy to see the random collections carted away. No one needed twenty-year-old rubber bands.
“Well, if you’re here to help, we should work on Ria’s room,” I said, cleaning up my lunch and leading the way to Ria’s old room. I paused at the doorway, letting my fingers run over the imperfections in the doorframe. Had something been attached to the door here?
Akai followed slowly, the stride in her step shortening as she neared the room.
“I haven’t been in here since she disappeared,” she said, hovering in the doorway. I made a path through the empty cardboard boxes we would soon use and parted the curtains on the window to let in more sunlight. “It looks like Fukuda-san kept the place in good shape.”
“Someone must have.” I ran my finger along the length of Ria’s desk. No dust. “This was the cleanest room in the house.”
Akai harrumphed. “Why am I not surprised?” She sighed as she crossed the threshold into Ria’s room. “He was always certain she’d come back home and wanted to keep the room just as she left it.”
The room was in great shape. Standing bookshelves along the walls were filled with Ria’s old manga collection, each shelf buckling under the weight of books shoved into every available space. I came into this room the first day, but not knowing where to start, I concentrated on the other rooms instead. Now that Akai was around, I figured I could get started.
“How about I box up the manga, and you go through her desk?” I grabbed the air conditioning remote control and turned the box on the wall up to high. I was using an excessive amount of air conditioning while here, but I tried not to care. I wasn’t getting paid. Might as well be cool and comfortable.
Akai shifted between her feet. “I don’t know, Mei-san. It doesn’t feel right.”
I groaned as I lowered myself to my knees and into a cross-legged sitting position next to the bookshelf. The least I could do was allow myself to sit.
“I know how you feel. I’ve had to go through the apartments of two dead people so far, just in the past year. This makes three.” I never thought my life would be so morbid, but between the murder investigations and my work with the elderly, I doubted these jobs would ever end. “You get used to it. I always imagine that the person wants me to take care of their stuff after they’ve gone. That they’ve given me permission to snoop. It helps. Kind of.”
In my daydreams, Ria followed me through the house and told me the history of everything I touched. She told me her father watched too much TV, and that she would spend hours reading in her room. I imagined the pair of red chopsticks with cherry blossoms on them were
hers, and that she loved the black sweater in the closet that had been eaten by moths.
Akai pulled out the chair at the desk, and it squeaked as she sat on it. I tried not to watch her too closely as she sifted through the stack of sketchbooks Ria had left behind, but I could tell from the sound of shuffling papers that she was taking her time to look at everything. Good. This kind of work needed the eyes of someone who knew Ria well. I was positive I’d miss something.
I kept myself busy sorting Ria’s manga collection, finding missing books in each of the series she owned, and boxing them all together. I would have to ask Minato if he knew anyone who would be interested in buying these. If anyone would know, he would.
While Akai sifted through everything on Ria’s desk, I kept my mouth shut. I figured my presence in the room was enough to give her support but not be nosy. Each time I put ten books in a box, I looked up to check on her, making sure she was okay. For the first twenty minutes, she was stony and sniffly. She moved through the pile on Ria’s desk like a snail through mud.
But by the time I moved onto my third box, Akai’s swift movements caught my attention. She had switched from hesitant to determined as she picked up each notebook and set it down, opened the desk drawer and searched around inside it, then moved on to the bookshelves farther down the wall.
“Where…?” She huffed out, pulling sketchbooks from the shelves and thumbing through them.
“Where what?”
“I can’t find it.” She set a sketchbook down and went for another.
“Is something missing?”
“You know, I hadn’t thought about Ria in a couple of years,” she said, searching the bookshelves and pulling more sketchbooks out to the desk. “It was just too hard. I blamed her disappearance on myself when I was a teen. We’d been going through a rough patch as friends. She liked this guy, and they were dating, but he was a total jerk to me the one time we met. And it bugged me that she would choose him over me. We fought about their relationship two days before she went missing.”
The Daydreamer Detective Returns a Favor Page 4