Tragedy strikes Chikata again!
When Noriko Kubo, a local small business coach, is found dead in her back garden, Mei feels the pull of a good mystery and the desire to solve another case, especially at the behest of her best friend. With several suspects that need to be questioned or followed, she has all the skills to help out and the imagination to piece together the clues.
But time is not on her side and neither is good luck. Her baby is crying for hours every night, her husband’s restaurant is so popular he’s never around, and her new house is in jeopardy of never being built. Mei doesn’t have the energy to help with a murder investigation… or does she?
Soon, everyone is depending on her for everything, and Mei feels lost and unsure of her own future. She loves her family and her tea shop, but she’s never really found her calling unless she’s helping to solve a murder case. That’s not a legitimate career for her, though, is it? Can Mei juggle her busy life, secure her place in society, and still help find Noriko’s killer?
With her head in the clouds and a taste for solving crime, you don’t want to miss Mei in The Daydreamer Detective Finds Her Calling, the intensely delicious fifth course to the Miso Cozy series of cozy mystery novels.
Genre: Cozy Mystery / Chicklit / Romance
Series / Book Number: Miso Cozy Mysteries / Book 5
Rating: Rated PG-13 for sexual suggestion
Publishing Date: March 29, 2019
“What happened this time?” I asked, trying to fold my arms over my chest and failing because Mari was strapped there. I stuffed my hands into my fleece pockets instead.
“Mrs. Suga.” Imai, the foreman, acknowledged me with a bow. “Some scaffolding collapsed and knocked Daiki Wada off a ladder. He fell right on his shoulder and fractured it.”
“Did you check the scaffolding before working?” I looked at the house to determine where the accident occurred. It must have happened inside the structure because I couldn’t see anything different from where I was.
Imai sighed. “We did check it, but we must have missed this one spot where the ground was uneven.”
“Hmmm. Well, it sounds like an accident…?” The lift in my voice was unintended. I wanted this to just be an accident, but it was looking less and less likely.
Imai shifted his eyes down. A bad sign. “Well, whether it’s an accident or not, my team has walked off the job, and they won’t be returning until we get some answers about the land.”
I huffed, and Mari blinked her eyes at me. “The land,” I grumbled under my breath.
“Whether it’s stigmatized or not. Now, I’ve worked on plenty of job sites in my career where contractors have been injured. It happens. Sometimes it happens three times in one week. Other times, we may have nothing bad happen at all. And normally, I would brush this off. But Wada insists that you’re to blame. I’m so sorry.” He bowed, covering up his unease about speaking so plainly. “So he’s riled up the other men on the site and spoiled the lot of them. Again, I apologize.”
While Imai was bent over in deference, I glanced at Goro. He sighed and stowed away his notebook.
“If I figure out what’s going on with the land or whatever,” — I waved my hand in a circle, not caring how informal I sounded — “will you hire a new crew and return to finish the job? I really want my house. I have fought… so hard…”
And then the tears came. Ugh. I hated how they made me look. Like some weak, sniveling woman who couldn’t control herself.
But both men were not embarrassed, thankfully. Goro did the decent thing and set his hand on my shoulder to steady me.
“We’ll figure it out,” Goro said, reassuring me. “And I’m sure Mr. Imai will find the right crew to be here and build your house. Isn’t that right, Mr. Imai?”
Goro raised his shoulders and asserted his dominance, something I hadn’t seen him do in quite some time. In his police uniform, he always looked like he had command of the situation, but now, with him staring down at Imai, his intimidating nature shone through.
“Of course. We want to build this house.” He stood up straight. “The manufacturer assures me that this is a point of pride for them, to have one of their houses in this town, owned by a famous chef and his wife. We will get it done. This is only a small hiccup.”
I bristled at the ‘and his wife’ comment as if I was a nobody, just someone’s accessory. But it was not time to educate this man on the finer points of independent women. If Yasahiro’s fame would carry us through this mess, then so be it.
“I’ll get your answers, and I’ll get them soon,” I assured him.
As soon as possible.
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