Chapter Thirteen - Asako Kato
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Asako Kato
ASAKO KATO STOOD casually against the wall, her well-worn notebook in hand, scribbling idly while her ears strained to hear muffled conversation behind the frosted glass doors of the SSU PD reception area. A modest space, practical even, much like the department itself. The station was tucked in a corner in the far northeastern corner of campus, housed alongside other auxiliary and maintenance departments on campus. This building rarely saw students in the halls and Asako had grown used to the strange looks from the maintenance and facilities staff as she passed them. Asako had taken to loitering at the university police department and was known to most of the duty officers who had learned to largely ignore her.
Blurry figures were visible behind a long counter with a frosted glass partition separating visitors from the officer's workspace. Asako saw the familiar etching on the glass with the university’s lion mascot and the words, “Summit State University Police Department” in bold letters. There was a small window in the glass to communicate with the receptionist, feeling much like a barrier, which Asako felt was intentional.
The air smelled of stale coffee as she shifted the weight onto her other leg she continued leaning against the beige walls, her chunky boots scuffing it lightly. Her eyes danced across the framed photographs of the university landmark, the Summit Spire prominently on display. There were plaques recognizing the department’s service to the campus and adjacent to it a large community bulletin board littered with outdated flyers for safety seminars, bike registration, and reminders of the campus’s no underage drinking policy.
Asako’s parents wanted her to major in something sensible and become a doctor, lawyer, or an accountant. Coming from a reserved traditional Japanese family, they struggled to understand her ambitions to be a journalist. The qualities necessary for such a job seemed at odds with the qualities her parents tried to cultivate within her sister. They were quiet, polite, but distant. Meanwhile, Asako was extroverted, nosey, and oppositional, always asking “why?” as a child.
In high school, while her cousins were gaining recognition as honor roll students, Asako was busy investigating rumors of the “mystery meat” in the school lunches. While in eighth grade, she skipped class to ingratiate herself with the grizzled lunch ladies, to learn about what the actual ingredients were used in the school cafeteria. She befriended them with her curiosity and effervescent personality, her relentless questioning led her to learn the school district had contracted with the same food distributor as the local jail to save a few dollars.
Afterwards, she wrote an excoriating exposé on her Tumblr about the quality of ingredients the poor lunch ladies had to work with. Parents were up in arms, leading to the principal and school board convening a special meeting where they agreed to hire an outside nutritionist to consult on the menu and change food distributors.
During the meeting, Asako and her family sat front and center, where the group of concerned parents referenced her article. While she beamed with pride as a budding investigative journalist, her parents were mortified. They quietly chided her for drawing attention to the family and discouraged any more unsanctioned undercover journalism.
Her legs ached as she ambled to the seating area consisting of four metal-framed chairs with thin, worn cushions. A small table in the center held a stack of untouched copies of the Ledger . She found her favorite seat and plopped down, the metal chair groaned in protest. While impatient, Asako knew sometimes a lead presented itself, but other times you had to be willing to sniff it out. Scrape together bits of information to form a larger picture like a puzzle. Besides Naomi Halston wasn’t just another story to fill the Ledger’s page with. There was something off about the disappearance, something nobody else seemed to intuit. A girl with all that she had going for her, does not simply up and disappear. Maybe it was Asako’s way of avoiding the truth of her sister, the two stories seemed so similar.
But how?
The door swung open, Detective Janine Farmer stepped out, her eyes sharp scanning the lobby. A momentary frown crossed her lips as her gaze caught Asako.
Snapping her notebook shut, Asako jumped from her seat and stepped towards Farmer who looked to be leaving the station.
“Kato,” Farmer said, her voice flat. “Do you ever quit?”
Asako flashed her best innocent smile. “Just doing my job, Detective Farmer. You got a minute?”
Farmer sighed and brushed past her and out the station’s glass door entrance. “No comment.”
“I haven’t even asked my question yet, Detective,” Asako said with mock indignation.
“Before you do, like I said, ‘No Comment,’” Farmer said striding through the hallway, towards the exit.
Asako lengthened her strides to match Farmer who was at least a foot taller than Asako’s short, petit frame,” Come on Detective” Asako pled. “Just a quick update on Naomi Halston. Anything you can share?’ Leads? Suspects? Whereabouts? Anything?”
Farmer’s brow scrunched slightly, “We do not comment on on-going investigations.” She said, her voice firm but not unkind. “You need a better hobby, Kato. Are there any college boys…or girls your age, you’re interested in?” Farmer continued, trying to distract Asako.
Asako jogged ahead stepping between Farmer and the exit, “It’s both, and no, I’m on the clock.”
Farmer stopped on her heel, giving her a disapproving look, but a thin smile flashed on her face. She put her hands on her waist.
“Come on Detective. People want answers. Her friends, her professors, her classmates — don’t you think they deserve to know what happened to her?” Asako said.
Farmer looked thoughtfully for a moment and then her jaw tightened, “Fine. Follow me to the parking lot. And this stays off the record.”
Asako nodded eagerly.
Farmer stepped around her and through the exit, Asako followed. The two of them started towards the parking lot of university vehicles, “We are looking into her background. Her time in the foster care system, her case history, people she’s connected with. I’m on my way to interview a former caseworker, Sylvia Clearwater.”
Asako’s pen flew across the sheets of paper in her notebook. “Sylvia Clearwater. Got it. You got any contact information—?” She asked without looking up from her notepad. The gravel of the parking lot crunched underfoot as the cool air hit Asako. She fought tension as her hand stiffened from the chill.
Farmer gave her a deadpan look. “Why? So you can spook her before I can interview her?” Not a chance Kato. That’s all I can say.”
“Hm,” Asako said, “Fair enough.”
The two of them arrived at a nondescript white sedan, Farmer pulled a key ring from her trouser pockets, “This is off the record. If I see anything tied back to me, you won’t be able to get so much as a horoscope for your little student publication. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” Asako said, snapping her notebook shut and smiling. “Thank you, Detective. The free press is humbled by your generosity.”
Another small smile donned Farmer’s lips before giving a sardonic scoff, “Whatever you say, Kato.”
Asako watched as Farmer pulled away in the university-issued sedan. She could barely hold herself together with the anticipation at this new lead. Her mind was already at the computer scouring the web with this new information, as her body rushed back to her office. Asako’s boots clattered against the sidewalk as she clutched her notebook tightly.
Sylvia Clearwater, Sylvia Clearwater, Sylvia Clearwater she thought as if committing it to memory.
She blew through through the entrance to the bullpen of the Ledger newsroom, and slid into her cubicle. She flipped open her laptop and fingers flew across the keyboard commencing a rapid-fire search.
Clearwater foster care
Denver County records
Missing person connection.
The screen was filled with articles, documents, and public records. Her mouth watered at the potential new breadcrumbs. “ There’s always a trail,” she muttered to herself, a grin tugged at her lips.