A Drink of Death (Japanese Tea Garden Mysteries Book 2)

by Blythe Baker

  It was almost five o’clock in the evening. When I thought about everything that had happened today, it felt like I’d lived seventy-two hours in a twenty-four hour span. My stomach grumbled.

  “I don’t think I can do anymore tonight,” I muttered. Making decisions on an empty stomach and a tired mind could only add to my problems, instead of solving anything.

  I made myself some soup and tea. By seven o’clock, I was dozing on the sofa. By eight-thirty, I had covered Moonshine and was fast asleep in my bed. When I woke up at a little past three, my heart jumped into my throat.

  There were old legends that said three o’clock in the morning was the devil’s hour. If you woke up at that time, it was because something evil was close by.

  These were the kinds of thoughts I had, knowing I was alone in such a big house. Anyone or anything could be lurking around on the first floor, or worse, in the basement, just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Maddie. You aren’t a teenager anymore. You’re just letting your imagination get the best of you.”

  BAM!

  That noise was not my imagination. It was something on the back veranda.

  My mind pulled down a landslide of horrible possibilities, including vampires surrounding my house and a zombie hoard quickly approaching. But as sleepiness cleared from my mind, I remembered Mamma Jackie and bolted out of bed and down the stairs.

  I grabbed a two-by-four the carpenters had left behind and flipped on all the lights, as I made my way through the front room to the kitchen.

  “Who’s there?” I demanded. “I’m armed! And I’m not afraid to use it!” My trembling knees said otherwise but I wasn’t about to let an intruder know that. “Show yourself!”

  Nothing.

  The appearance of being tough would save me from actually having to prove it, so I stomped around like I was hoping that I’d find someone to beat up. I ranted and kicked at things to make it sound like I was more dangerous than anyone could have anticipated. In the end, I was still alone in the house.

  “But something made that noise,” I told myself.

  All the doors were locked. Moonshine hadn’t stirred beneath his blanket.

  “Maybe it was just a bout of exploding head syndrome.” I had read in a magazine that some people suffer from what doctors called Exploding Head Syndrome. The sufferer would be falling asleep or in that twilight stage between being awake and asleep when suddenly they would hear a loud bang like a shot going off. Other people would hear something that sounded like glass breaking. It would snap them wide awake. The people would inspect their surroundings and find nothing broken or out of place. It was all in their heads. In their exploding heads.

  I had never had the experience before. But a little knowledge like that could soothe the worried soul of a person like me and make me dismiss the noise as just the house settling. I went back to bed, feeling better now that I had bravely searched the house and double-checked the doors. It didn’t take long before I fell back to sleep.

  The sun was over the horizon when I heard Moonshine fussing in his cage. The reality sank in that Mamma Jackie still wasn’t back and neither the police nor Drake had called to give me any kind of update.

  “You can’t get anything done without a little coffee in your system,” I mumbled. When I shuffled downstairs, I pulled Moonshine’s blanket off his cage. He was eerily quiet.

  “Hey, Moonshine.”

  He bopped his head up and down and opened his mouth in what I assumed was a yawn.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever been this pleasant. I like it,” I said as I turned to get him his morning birdseed and water. When I got back to the cage, I looked at him and thought he seemed nervous.

  “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re getting sick.” I looked him over for any abnormalities. “You miss your Mamma Jackie, don’t you? I know, Moonshine. I hate to admit it but I miss her too.”

  I went over to the sliding glass door that led to the veranda. To my shock and horror, it was open.

  “Didn’t I check this last night?”

  I retraced my steps and remembered checking the front door, the door that led to the garage, and then I drew a blank. I couldn’t say for sure that I had checked this door. If I did and it was locked, that meant someone was in the house with me when I was busy stomping around and they unlocked it later to sneak out. If I really didn’t check it, that meant the whole house was open and exposed while I slept upstairs.

  “I’m losing my mind,” I whispered as I looked around. Nothing appeared any different than it had last night.

  I went to Mamma Jackie’s room and peeked in. Nothing had changed. Nothing except the bloody pair of scissors lying atop the bed, alongside a note.

  12

  “Drake! How can you not have your phone right next to you? I can’t believe I have to leave you a message. Call me. Do you hear me? Call me as soon as you get this!”

  I hated not having a clunky old fashioned phone receiver to slam down into a cradle. Just pushing the little red off button on my cell phone didn’t really convey the level of stress I was feeling right now. There was no reason on earth that Drake’s phone should go to voicemail. Unless he was unconscious or dead… I shuddered, feeling instant remorse over my anger.

  “I can’t worry about you right now, Drake. You’re a big guy with muscles and a law degree. If you’re in trouble, you’ll figure something out.”

  Meanwhile, I was left alone with the kidnapper’s calling card. I didn’t dare touch it. In addition to the blood that was turning from a bright red to a dark brown as it dried, there was a note written in the same manner as the first one.

  You don’t listen very well. She paid the price for you. If you want to see her alive, you’ll be at Lewis Outdoor Mall in the center courtyard by the bronze sculpture. 11:30 today .Alone. Bring treasure.

  Treasure? It made no sense. The money I had left in the bank could hardly be called a treasure. It barely met the criteria of being chump change.

  What was I going to do now?

  “You’re going to get dressed, go to the bank and withdraw your money. Every penny. Then you’re going to head over to the mall and do as you’re told.” Saying the words aloud helped me summon my courage.

  It was all I could do. Whoever was pulling the strings knew I had contacted the police. They knew Michael and the other cops had been here. Heaven knew what they had done to Mamma Jackie to get that much blood on a pair of scissors.

  “But they wouldn’t kill her.” I shook my head. “That would defeat the purpose of the kidnapping, right? If they did, there could be no ransom money in it for them.”

  Then I thought of my ex-mother-in-law’s behavior and how difficult she could be. Maybe they would kill her after all. They might get the money and then never tell me where to find her…or her remains.

  “Stop it, Maddie! Don’t think that way!”

  I dashed up the stairs and went into the bathroom to take a shower. I needed to clear my head and see things with a fresh perspective. A shower would do the trick.

  Sadly, I ended up just standing beneath the hot water, staring into space and trying to figure out if I had locked the back door last night or not and how I would act if I had to go identify Mamma Jackie’s body. I wasted almost half an hour and all the hot water.

  When I finally got out, I slipped into a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt, before lacing up my high-top gym shoes.

  I marched downstairs and checked on Moonshine. His behavior had me worried.

  “Lazy,” he cawed when I walked into the room.

  “That’s more like it.” I sighed. “Don’t scare me, Moonshine. Mamma Jackie is going to want to see you most of all when she gets home. She’s going to get home. I promise.”

  “Shut up, Lazy,” was the response I got, but the bird sounded less spirited than usual.

  I grabbed my pocketbook and keys. Just as I was about to leave, I hesitated.

  What was I doing?
Was I crazy to follow the kidnapper’s instructions so blindly?

  Picking up my cell phone, I thought of the note. It warned me to come alone. Whoever was to blame for the kidnapping knew I had called the police. They’d know again, right?

  But maybe not, if the police didn’t come to the house and I didn’t go to the station. My fingers hovered over the buttons. It was a risk I had to take. This was too big for me. I dialed Michael’s number.

  “You were right to call me,” Michael said, after I gave him a hasty explanation of what had happened.

  “But Michael, what if they find out? This pair of scissors has blood on it.”

  “Did you touch the scissors?”

  “No. I just pulled the note out from underneath.”

  “Good, don’t handle the scissors or anything else in the room,” Michael instructed. “We need to buy time to figure this out.”

  “There’s nothing to think about. I’m determined to cooperate with the kidnappers,” I said. “I can’t risk Mamma Jackie’s life.”

  Michael sighed. We had already had this argument. He was reluctant to endanger me, an untrained civilian.

  “There’s no more time,” I said. “I have to get to the drop-off point.”

  “If you’re certain this is a risk you’re willing to take,” he said reluctantly.

  “Positive.” My voice sounded braver than I felt.

  “All right then. Just go to the bank, like you said, and show up at the mall. I’ll meet you there.”

  “But what if they see you?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Trust me when I tell you they won’t. Now, take a couple deep breaths and calm your nerves.”

  I didn’t point out that he sounded like his own nerves needed calming.

  “You’re going to be in a crowded place,” he continued. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  Another thing we both knew he couldn’t guarantee. Still, the words were comforting.

  “You won’t know where me or my men will be, so you won’t come across suspicious,” he said. “Sure you can handle it?”

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  “Sorry, Maddie. I guess you don’t.”

  It was hard not to feel trapped by that knowledge.

  I drove to the bank in a hurry. Once I got there, I went up to the teller and told her I wanted to close out my account. Before I finished the sentence, I started to hyperventilate. They had me sit down in the lobby. Some nice woman with legs like redwood tree stumps hustled over with a paper cup full of cold water. How humiliating.

  So that circus sideshow tacked on an extra fifteen minutes to what should have been a five-minute transaction. Now I was speeding to the mall, honking my horn at cars as soon as the light turned green. It never occurred to me that parking might be a problem.

  Lewis Outdoor Mall was a labyrinth of shops. Like a regular mall, there were clothing stores, shoe stores, stationary stores, and booksellers. There were also specialty stores that sold incense or jewelry or art. Then there was a dry cleaner, a drug store and post office somewhere inside the maze. I always wondered what kept most of these stores in business, since everything was so overpriced.

  Apparently I was just poor, because the parking lot was packed with shoppers. I drove up and down, waiting for someone to pull out, while simultaneously keeping my eye on the clock on my dashboard. It was eleven-twenty. I had ten minutes to park, then get to the center court where a big sculpture stood. That was where I was supposed to meet the kidnapper.

  “Calm down, Maddie. They can’t do anything if you aren’t there. For all you know, they’re looking for a parking spot right now too.”

  Finally, a spot opened up at what seemed like the furthest corner of the parking lot. I didn’t care. I parked at an angle, dangerously close to the car next to me, jumped out and took off running toward the center court.

  I held the envelope from the bank tightly in my hand as I pumped my arms and legs, running through the parking lot. Once I was inside the mall, I slowed down to a brisk jog. Running and darting through all these people might start a panic.

  Just up ahead, I could see the sculpture the kidnapper mentioned in their note. I slowed down to a quick walk. I looked all around but didn’t really know what I was looking for. My breath had yet to catch up with me. I panted so loudly that several people looked my way. There wasn’t a familiar face or suspicious grimace among the lot of them. There was no sign of the kidnapper, as far as I could tell. Nor was there any sign of Detective Michael Sullivan. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  Finally, I made it to the statue. There was an old man sitting on the marble platform that was the base. I didn’t think he was the kidnapper.

  I sat down on the opposite corner and focused on the sculpture to try and calm myself. Somewhere, there had to be a description with the name of this sculpture and the artist who designed it, but it wasn’t anywhere I could find immediately. It was like a collection of five wobbly ladders. Each one was wide at the bottom and got skinnier at the top. It wasn’t ugly but it certainly wasn’t pretty.

  A group of teenagers took a seat on the other side, not far from the old man. The girls sat talking and giggling, while the boys stood looking at their cell phones, trying to act cool.

  There were lots of teenagers roaming around in packs. I was surprised kids still did this. There were couples walking around, holding hands. There were older ladies walking and talking together, carrying bags from the more high-end shops.

  No one there looked like they were coming to make any kind of exchange. No one seemed like they were looking for me. More importantly, no one seemed like they were there to protect me if everything went south.

  I fidgeted. I glanced over my shoulder. I examined the faces of everyone walking by. I was sweating. There was an itch on the inside of my foot. My stomach grumbled as I smelled the sweet smell of caramel corn drifting from somewhere.

  Finally, I saw someone approaching me. I knew that face. It was Michael, jogging toward me with a cell phone to his ear.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Did I miss him? I couldn’t find a parking spot. I got here as fast as I could.”

  “He was behind you,” Michael said. “At least, we think it was the kidnapper. It was someone in sunglasses and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled forward so we couldn’t see his face. He saw you come in but…”

  “But what?”

  Michael’s strong, broad shoulders drooped.

  “One of my men moved in too close and tipped him off. He must’ve seen we were watching and he left.”

  “Are you kidding?” I asked.

  A million thoughts went through my head. First, how could he have shown up behind me, since I was watching everyone who came by the statue? Second, what was he going to do to Mamma Jackie now? I had broken his rules. I had gotten the cops involved. Finally, how was I going to tell Drake about this? He was going to hit the roof when he learned that not only did everything get screwed up by the police I wasn’t supposed to call but that I went ahead and made this move without him.

  I rubbed my forehead. Then I rubbed my stomach.

  “Are you all right, Maddie?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  I stood up, clutching my purse. “I’m going home. Maybe there will be another message for me when I get there. Like a horse head in my bed or my ex-mother-in-law’s left ear in a box of ice.”

  “I’ve got my team keeping watch over all the mall exits. If our guy slips out and gets into a car they’ll tail him. Have faith, Maddie. We’ll get Mamma Jackie back.”

  “What’s the rule about how long someone can be missing?” I asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Michael took a step closer to me.

  “I heard someplace that there’s a rule about how many hours someone can be missing before the police go from looking for a person to looking for a corpse.”

  “Don’t think like that, Maddie.”

  “How long?” I
repeated.

  Michael frowned, admitting, “Statistics say if you don’t find a missing person within seventy-two hours, the chances of finding them alive grow slimmer.” He took my hand. “But every case is different and this one could still turn out okay. Just remember that.”

  He squeezed my hand and I wanted to feel comforted. But the heaviness of the situation made it impossible.

  I wanted to go home, rest, forget about all this trouble, and wake up tomorrow to find out everything bad was only a dream. Mostly, I wanted to find Mamma Jackie.

  But I didn’t get what I wanted.

  13

  I was relieved to step into the house. Even though it was empty and lonely, it was home.

  “What a day,” I said. My voice cracked in the silence like a whip.

  Moonshine rustled in his cage. I heard his swing going back and forth. That usually meant he was happy about something.

  “Well, I’m glad something tickled your fancy, Moonshine.”

  I walked through the front room and grabbed his water and food dishes to give him a refill.

  “Rawk! Hurry, Lazy!”

  “I’m working on it, bird.”

  I saw some ramen noodles in the pantry next to Moonshine’s bag of birdseed. That was all I wanted for supper. Actually, I would have liked a cheeseburger with everything on it plus a slice of raw onion, but there was no way I was going to step foot outside the house again today. There was no telling what would get screwed up if I did.

  After I fed Moonshine, I filled a pot with water and turned on my hotplate. It would have been nice to daydream about the new stove I’d be getting installed soon. I had picked out a vintage looking stove with the bulky gas burners. Who knew when I’d actually get that installed? Kidnappings had a tendency to postpone all other plans.

  The water began to bubble in the bottom of the pot. I grabbed the ramen noodles and attempted to pull the packaging apart.

  “What the heck?” I grumbled as I strained and tugged. “Are there noodles in this package or gold bullions? They’re childproof. Open! Open!” I clenched my teeth and pulled with no luck.