Akai turned around and dropped an armful of sketchbooks on the bed. “I remember talking about it with the cops. I was a blubbering mess, blaming everything on me. Of course, everyone thought I was nuts, and thankfully none of the police listened to my blubbering. What girl runs away from home because she has a fight with her best friend?”
I imagined their fight in my head. Akai had never come to hang out with Tama, Akiko’s older brother, or I would’ve known her before recently. This guy Ria had been dating must’ve been a part of that crowd, and Akai, knowing she wasn’t wanted, had stayed away.
“It’s missing,” Akai said, her hands on her hips, looking at the pile of sketchbooks.
The abrupt change in subject matter threw me sideways. “What’s missing?”
Akai grabbed her phone from the desk and turned it on. “Like I said, I hadn’t thought about her much lately until her dad died. So I went through some of my old photos from all the crappy cameras I had when we were teenagers. You know me, I keep everything.”
She scrolled through her photos for a minute while I waited to find out what this was all about. I didn’t think anything missing was my fault. No one had been in the room since we started cleaning.
“Look,” Akai said, turning her phone to me.
I took her phone and peered down at the photo of Ria, sitting cross-legged on a bed somewhere, a red sketchbook hugged to her chest. She was exactly how I remembered her, a happy smile, her heart-shaped face with glowing pink cheeks brought warmth to my chest.
“Aw. She was so nice,” I whispered, glancing up at Akai.
Akai’s frown was frozen and deep. “The sketchbook, Mei-san.” She tapped on the screen, and the phone zoomed in on Ria’s arms. “That was her crowning glory. Some manga book she was developing, a romance based on her high school.” She turned the phone and looked at the image again, scrolling to something else. “She even sent off copies of a few pages to a famous manga artist who loved them and told her to keep going.”
Akai showed me another picture of Ria, sitting at a small table in the garden out behind the house. She was sketching in the red sketchbook again.
“The damned sketchbook never left her side. And it’s not here.”
“Maybe she took it with her?” My heart beat swiftly, thumping against my rib cage. “Or the cops might have it?”
“I don’t know.” Akai plopped on the bed next to all the sketchbooks, her pushy behavior puttering to a stop. “It doesn’t seem right that it’s not here.”
I stood up and squeezed her hand, trying to put on a happy face. “I’ll continue looking for it, and I’ll check with Goro to see if the police have it. Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to find it.”
She shook her head at me, her eyes dull.
“Maybe it’s gone like she is.” She sniffed up and headed for the door. “Even if we found the sketchbook, what difference would it make?”
Chapter Seven
The late afternoon was still hot and sticky when I locked up the Fukuda house to head home. Akai had left an hour before I did, unable to force herself to spend any more time in Ria’s room than she already had. We’d boxed up the manga, stripped Ria’s bed down to its parts, and started sorting through the clothes in her closet when Akai had had enough. I stayed on longer than she did so I could put together boxes for work the next day and bag up any trash that would be picked up in the morning.
I clutched the bag strap on my shoulder as I walked the three blocks to the bus stop. Where had Ria’s red sketchbook gone? I would search the house again, but I felt certain it wasn’t anywhere I had already cleaned out. I was thorough, opening every cupboard, looking on top, behind, and under everything I came across. Granted, I hadn’t opened up any of the kitchen cabinets like I had with Etsuko’s apartment. Hmmm, I should probably check them.
A slow moving car on the street caught my attention as I shifted my bag to my front. A police car crept up next to me, and my face brightened with a smile. Goro? I crouched down to look inside when I saw Kohei Watanabe instead. Ugh. I snapped back up when he made eye contact with me. I didn’t want to talk to him, ever. For a moment, he cruised beside me before he accelerated and turned the corner, heading in the direction of the station. Despite the heat, I shuddered. That man gave me the creeps.
But thinking about Goro, I pulled my phone from my bag and scrolled to his name. Wherever that red sketchbook was, Akai wanted it found.
“Hey, Mei-chan. What’s up?”
“Nothing much. I’m on my way home after another day at the Fukuda house.”
“Oh yeah. Found anything interesting?” His voice perked up on the other end.
“Does a twenty-year-old rubber band ball sound interesting?”
“It sounds super boring.”
“Yeah. I thought so too. Anyway, I was wondering if you had looked into the old case yet.”
In the background, I heard typing and voices murmuring. The station seemed to be quiet for the day.
“Nope. But I can if you like. It was a missing persons case, so it’s not like we would retain any evidence. There may be photos of evidence and notes, but that would be about it.”
I walked for a moment, looking down at my sandaled feet and wondering what the next move here would be. If Mom or Yasahiro went missing, what would I do?
“Hmmm, well, anything you could pull up would be great. If someone goes missing, how long does the police work on the case? I remember it being quite the stir for a few weeks.”
Goro sighed into the phone, and I crossed the street, nearing the bus stop. People had lined up in the shade of a giant tree, so I joined the queue.
“Yeah, two or three weeks. People go missing in Japan all the time, and they usually stay missing. It wasn’t unusual or anything that Ria was never found. It was just weird she went missing in the first place.”
Hmmm. I thought while I kept walking. Ria had been almost seventeen at the time, and that was about thirteen or fourteen years ago. She was underage, which was why there’d been a big investigation. If she had been a few years older, hardly anyone would’ve budged. She was well-loved, and her life had been scandal free.
“Right. She had a good life. It seemed weird she would want to give it all up to run away.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’ll look into the case and see what I find here.”
The bus pulled up, and everyone moved forward. I shifted my phone so I could pull out my bus pass.
“The bus is here, so I have to go. Let’s switch to text. I have another question to ask.”
“Sure.” Goro hung up, and I climbed aboard the bus, placing my card at the reader, and took a seat near the front.
“What can someone do if the police can’t help? What’s the next step?” I typed in, waiting for a reply.
“PI. Many take missing persons cases.”
Yes, a private detective. Of course.
“Do you think Ria’s father hired one? After the police were done?”
“Yeah, I imagine he did. But they’re expensive, so I doubt he retained anyone for long.”
“How would I find out who he hired?”
“You either cold call a bunch of local PI’s or ask Akai to go through Ria’s father’s records.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” I stored my phone away, believing that was the end of our conversation, but my phone buzzed again.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” Goro’s instincts must have been pricking up.
“Yeah. A red sketchbook of Ria’s that had manga drawings in it. Akai seems to think it’s strange we haven’t found it yet.”
“You looked everywhere in the house?”
I pictured the last few areas of the house we had left to do. “Pretty much. We still have a few places to look, but I wanted to check with you first.”
“Okay. I’ll get on it. Remember. The house is not the only place she could’ve left the notebook. Always think of the whole property.”
I was thinking of the w
hole property, and I couldn’t discern anywhere else the sketchbook may be. The house stood alone on the lot with no shed or cellar. A large, plastic, locked chest was to the right of the back door and contained Fukuda’s gardening supplies. The backyard was a mix of gravel and herb garden, stone and water feature, then a small grassy expanse under a cherry tree.
I’d have to look harder once I was at the house again. I must have missed something.
I climbed off the bus back home, and the tea shop was winding down for the day. Yasahiro was inside, chatting with Murata and several other people, his face animated and alive.
I kept to the shadows so I could watch him for a moment. It didn’t matter if it was his restaurant or my tea shop, he was at home any place he was helping other people. Though I gave him such a hard time when we first met, I believed this was what drew us together. He may have more appreciation for food than I did, and I may have more creativity when it came to painting and other physical arts, but we found common ground in helping others.
The spell was broken when Murata looked out the window and caught me snooping. I smiled and waved as I came inside to the air-conditioned space.
“Ahhhh! It’s so nice in here. No wonder no one wants to go home.” I smiled at them as I placed my bag near the cash register and stood under the cool air from the wall unit. I was a hot and sweaty mess. A shower and bath would do me a lot of good.
Yasahiro leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, trying to be discreet while at the same time supportive.
“How was the clean-out today?” he asked, picking up some discarded teacups.
“Busy. But we’re making good progress. I should be able to finish a bedroom tomorrow. Can I help with that?” I extended my arm to take the teacups from him, but he maneuvered them out of the way.
“Nope. Sit down and rest.”
“Listen to your husband,” Murata said, swatting at me to take a seat.
I hesitated but sat across from her, my joints popping on the way down.
“So tell me more about this job you’re doing that’s taken you away from the tea shop.”
I gave her the basics of the situation, and her face widened with each passing minute.
She sighed, shaking her head. “I remember when Ria went missing.”
I tried to stifle a laugh. Of course, she did. Everyone in town remembered! There wasn’t one long-standing Chikata resident that was unaware of Ria’s disappearance.
“I was good friends, am still good friends, with the people who lived next door to the Fukudas. It was a very trying time for them too when she went missing.”
This piqued my curiosity, and I sat up taller in my seat. “How so?”
“Oh, you don’t know?”
“Know what?” I leaned forward, wishing I had a pot of tea so I could refill her empty cup and keep her talking.
“Well, I don’t want to start rumors again…” She trailed off, but I knew that sparkle in her eye. She was ready to gossip. “The boy of the family next door was in love with Ria for a year. They even had a secret relationship for a while, meeting up in their backyards to hold hands or kiss.” She fanned herself like she was talking about pornography. Murata was as sweet as they came. “The police asked them questions for days. It really stressed their peaceful family.”
“What’s this family’s name? Do you think you could introduce me?” My heart raced, and the baby fluttered in time with it.
Murata smiled slyly. “I see you’re already excited about another mystery.” She threw her head back and laughed. “There’s no stopping you now. They’re the Kato family, and I’d be happy to do the introductions. Perhaps tomorrow?”
“Thank you! I’ll discuss it with Yasa-kun tonight.”
My phone buzzed and chimed in my bag, interrupting our conversation. I pulled it out, expecting to see Goro’s name on the screen, or even Mom’s, but it wasn’t either. It was my brother.
“Hirata? Hi.”
I almost never talked to my brother on the phone. We weren’t particularly close and had little in common. I liked him, and as far as I knew, he liked me too, but not enough to talk to each other regularly outside of family get-togethers. If anything, I got along with his wife better.
“Hi, Mei-chan. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
I stood up from the table, holding a finger up to Murata and whispering that I’d be right back, and made my way to the back of the tea shop where Yasahiro was washing dishes.
“No, this isn’t a bad time. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything’s great. I was wondering if you had time to come out to the house this evening? Sorry to spring this on you so quickly, but I just got word from the bank, and everything’s about to be finalized. We only have a few more steps before this deal is done. So I was hoping we could sit down and hammer out the rest of the details together as a family.”
I stopped dead in the middle of the room, staring up at the ceiling, and trying to make sense of whatever Hirata was saying on the other end of the phone.
“Bank? What are you talking about?”
Hirata was silent for a long moment. “Mom didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” My voice rose two octaves. Yasahiro turned off the sink and faced me.
Hirata sighed. “I had a feeling I should’ve talked to you before we got this far, but she assured me you knew what was going on. I’m buying the family farm.”
I reached for the nearest chair to sit down before my legs gave out.
“Come out to the house, and I’ll explain everything.”
“We’ll be right there,” I said, my jaw clenched tight.
My brain melted down in the onrush of anger and fury building up in my body.
Mom’s hesitation and avoidance finally made sense.
I was being usurped.
Chapter Eight
The ride out to the house was deathly quiet, both Yasahiro and I keeping our tempers tampered down. I didn’t know what was going on, but I was going to get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible.
Along the pine trees that lined the driveway, my two nephews were passing a soccer ball back and forth between them. Their mother, Yuna, watched from under the shade of the front porch, her hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the early evening sun and the other clutching a cold glass of tea. She stood up as we arrived, coming to my side of the car as I climbed out.
“Mei, it’s good to see you,” she said, bowing before giving me a stiff hug. Her demeanor was off, like milk that had expired. The change was so severe from the last time we spoke that I almost burst into tears. Everyone knew a secret that we did not. How did this happen?
“It’s good to see you too, though I had no idea you’d be here today.”
She pursed her lips, and I felt a modicum of relief over the fact that she looked guilty.
“Yeah. I heard. Hirata’s inside with your mom. You should go see him.”
She walked away from us towards the kids, and a giant, heavy cloud of dread fell on me. I turned to Yasahiro as tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t take any more drama while pregnant. I had avoided tears most of my adult life, even when I was a screw-up, but now? No.
Yasahiro grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Let’s go.”
Inside, Mimoji-chan came running when I stepped in the door. He circled my feet, raising his tail to tickle my legs, and meowed. I bent down to scratch his head but kept moving to the kitchen where the sound of cooking and the air conditioning blowing couldn’t drown out Mom and Hirata’s voices.
“Yes, well, that’s why I’m going to get a storage locker in town,” Hirata was saying as we came around the corner. His eyes flicked over to me, and he set down his glass of beer to smile and bow. “Mei, Yasahiro, thanks for coming out here on such short notice.”
His face was sweaty, and his dress shirt was undone at the collar. The suit jacket he was wearing hung over the back of the kitchen desk chair. He looked like h
e had left the office not too long ago though it was at least a two-hour drive in traffic from Chiba to get here.
“Can I get you a beer?” he asked, raising his glass to Yasahiro.
“It’s no trouble. I’ll get it myself.” Yasahiro crossed the room to Mom, kissed her on the cheek, glanced at the vegetables she was chopping, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and a beer from the fridge like he lived there — which he practically did since we were there, one or both of us, several times a week.
My brother only came to visit once a month or on holidays.
Yasahiro grabbed a bottle of water for me from the fridge and joined me at my side.
“So, I’m sorry this is being sprung on you like this, but I guess Mom didn’t tell you she was looking for a buyer for the farm.”
“Nope,” I said, glaring daggers at my mom from across the room. “She never said a thing.”
Mom cringed and set down her knife. She took a deep breath and lifted her head, but she kept quiet.
“Well, it was right around your wedding when she came to me about the finances surrounding the farm.” Hirata cleared his throat and pushed his sleeves up. “Mom’s been in major debt since the barn fire, and even though the summer has gone well, she wants to get the business back up to one-hundred percent.”
My mind blanked as I tried to make sense of this. “That’s not what she told me. She told me everything’s been great.” My voice took on a note of exasperation, suddenly unable to remain placid about anything.
Yasahiro looked down at his shoes, a small smile breaking through his neutral expression. “She lied. Obviously,” he added. “I should’ve known.”
“I’m sorry,” Mom said, lifting her chin. “I had to. I couldn’t not host your wedding. I couldn’t tell you the insurance check we received for the barn barely covered our losses. I asked Hirata for money around the time you got engaged.”
Translation: she was failing because of me.
It was all my fault.
“But the new tractor and hiring Minato-san?”
Hirata raised his beer glass. “I financed those.”
The Daydreamer Detective Returns a Favor Page 5
