Vices: A Race **Chapter 007**

He woke up shaking.

Matt exhaled slowly and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling beads of sweat trickle down the side of his head. That was not okay. The dream was not okay at all.

But for some reason, he couldn’t exactly remember what was in it. All he felt was a foreboding sense of fear, and that was it. There was no scary face, no ghost, no nothing. It was just the feeling of danger and that he should br a little more careful.

Why, exactly, he didn’t know.

He closed his eyes and breathed in, then out, trying to calm himself down. What had just happened left his heart racing, and he tried to get himself relaxed before lying down once more, the woman next to him opening her eyes with a small frown on her face.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah…” he exhaled, “I’m okay. Get back to sleep.” She nodded and closed her eyes again, Matt gently wrapping an arm around her before apprehensively going back to sleep with her. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Nothing at all.

The event had been on her mind that morning. She attempted to ask Matt why he woke up in the middle of the night, but he simply waved it off and said that it was just a bad dream. He knew that she didn’t believe him and merely smiled, telling her that she had other things to worry about.

And he was right – there were greater things.

Touta had assigned all of them on interviews that day. Peters had already gone to Mrs. Watanabe, and Touta himself would go to the manager of Kazumi Tanaka, the third victim. This left A to search for the Sato family, who consisted of a mother, father, and an older brother who was out of the country.

She asked Olsen for help, and the sandy-haired Brit cheerily handed her a file of both parents much later. “Are you doing well?” he asked, watching as the black-haired lady looked over the files and took notes.

“I could be better,” she admitted to him, looking up from the small notepad in her hands. “Once this is settled, I may take a long rest. It’s been a train wreck of cases.”

“A train wreck?” he knotted his brows in worry, “I hope that they haven’t been failures, Miss A.”

“They’re not, they’re not.” She sent Olsen a smile of her own, “They just keep coming when I finish one. It’s never-ending, really. A break would be lovely.”

“I know how you feel.” He glanced shortly at newbie (Dee Jones) as the small Jersey-based girl passed by, “But crime never really takes a rest.”

“Funny how we should all know that by now,” she mused quietly, watching as he smirked slightly and poked the girl’s shoulder, whistling innocently when she turned her squinted hazel eyes at him. A chuckled to herself when Dee began punching Olsen, the man cringing slightly and attempting to ignore the smaller girl.

“Yes, well – it’s something we forget quite often.”

“And you forgot to get me my coffee, asshole,” she complained. Her accent stuck out, and she stuck her tongue at him before giving her usual salute. “Good morning, A! Out for interviews?”

“Yes I am, Dee, and I was just about to leave.” She handed Olsen back the files, “Thank you for the help, Olsen.”

“It’s not a problem,” he started, but scowled when Dee started poking his cheek. “Stop it, you! That hurts!”

“Whatta baby,” the brunette mocked. “Have fun, A!”

Investigations aren’t fun, she told herself as she left the building. But that’s just Dee’s way of thinking, ever the optimist…

Half an hour later, when A had gotten out of her car, Peters had just left the wife of Taro Watanabe, who he had just interviewed. He reviewed the details in his head.

“Taro was in a lot of stress,” the lady wiped her eyes with her handkerchief, “The business had gotten to his head and he didn’t like it at all. I tried to help, I really did.”

“Ma’am, it wasn’t your fault.” He comforted. “Can you tell me more?”

“Of course, of course…anything to get my husband the justice he deserves…I feel so bad,” she sighed, and Peters had to take a sip from the cup of tea that she offered earlier. “I meant to divorce him.”

“Divorce?”

“Yes. For his obsession with gambling,” she chuckled sadly, “I planned to leave him because of it. He was so attached to it, going there thrice a week and coming back with either more or less. I know that if it was more, he’d have something for me to make up for his leaving. If it was less, he’d be in a worse mood than usual. Either way, it didn’t make me happy.”

Peters eyed the jewelry she spotted.

“All of this is nice, but I just wanted my Taro to be happy,” she told him miserably.

Peters learned that they had no children. She explained that he didn’t have the time and didn’t want to pressure him. Sensing that she wasn’t as comfortable, he gave her his card and said that she could call if ever she had more information to share.

She thanked him.

Time passed. Peters decided to get a quick boost from a nearby coffee shop, and was drinking from the large Americano has he drove to his next destination.

Sansa Corporations was a large building that was known for its sleek layout on the inside. Other than that, it was notorious for having connections with the Yotsuba Company years ago. Peters thought hard. Yotsuba, Yotsuba…

He decided to ask Touta about Yotsuba later, despite how much it prodded at his memory. The company sounded horribly familiar to him.

A had bid goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Sato, a wealthy couple who escorted her out. She didn’t like the vibe of their home, as large as it was or as intricately-decorated. All of it felt wrong – from how they spoke of their son to how they wished their other son was doing well and not making a single wrong. The discomfort had climbed up her spine.

“He left after he finished high school,” Mrs. Sato sniffed in disdain, wiping her eyes with a lace handkerchief, “Good riddance. We gave him a bit so he could be on his own. Next thing we know, he’s on the street with ratty boys of his age. Natsume would never be like that.” Mr. Sato nodded vigorously at that.

“Natsume is in the States,” he explained to A, who left the snacks untouched, “Graduate school to become a doctor while working part-time. That’s our boy – not a drop out, definitely a proud member of this family.”

“Sir,” A attempted, “Your son – he died within the last two weeks – doesn’t that concern both of you at all, even if he left?”

Silence.

A was actually nervous. Mr. and Mrs. Sato glanced at each other shortly.

“We are upset, of course,” he finally replied. “But my son has failed us.”

The words dug deep.

“Please do understand,” the wife urged A, seeing the look that crossed the younger woman’s face, “Why we feel this way. When someone you’ve nurtured and protected lets you down so many times, you either cut them off or you let yourself get hurt.”

Downtown Tokyo, Touta Matsuda had made some progress.

“Kazumi?” the older lady sighed, “She was the favorite of the customers. Of course. A prime beauty, but seemed sad all the time. Figures,” the lady added, “She was working so that she could get her sibling an education. Parents died, see.” Touta nodded and scribbled it down, “And, well…she just sent the money and did the thing.”

“So, Kazumi…had she been acting weirdly before her death?”

“Come to think of it,” she took a drag off her cigarette, “She has. Doll’s been quite anxious. Dunno why – might be ‘cause she had to service this important figure, but you didn’t get that from me.”

“But other than that…”

“She’s been doing okay. Always a little sad. Well,” her lips curved up slightly, “It’s the whole plasticity of this place. Can’t blame Kazumi. Bless her heart.”

“I think I have everything,” he closed his notebook. “Thank you very much for your time and information.”

“T’is not a problem.” She smiled and took another drag, “Any more questions? Inquire about the ladies here,” she glanced back, “We have a few unoccupied ones, if you need ‘em.” Touta laughed sheepishly.

“I’m too busy to even go that way. There is one thing, however.”

“What is that?”

“Would you know her sister’s address?”

He stood in front of a small apartment, the windows shut and curtains not letting him see anything. Anxiously, he straightened his tie and gave the door a knock.

“Get away from me!”

Touta attempted to jam the door open, “Miss – are you alright–”

The same female voice hissed, “I don’t want to have anything to do about that whore, whoever you are, just get out!”