Chapter Twenty-Six - Asako Kato
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Asako Kato
ASAKO STOOD IN front of the second-floor apartment door, her knuckles raw from wrapping on the door. She hovered just inches from the wood. She had already knocked three times, each time louder than the last, but to no answer. Her sharp ears picked up no shuffling, no murmurs of conversation, not even the faint hum of a TV.
Something told her there were people behind that door, but she couldn’t get their attention. Sighing heavily, she glanced at the thin railing of the iron staircase beside her.
Again?
Are they always this elusive?
She frowned and pulled out her notebook and jotted a note to herself. 3rd visit, still no one home. Are they avoiding me? She underlined the last part.
Pulling her phone out, she glanced at it scrolling through a list of unanswered emails to Jason and Ethan. She was convinced they were hiding something. Chewing the cap of her pen, Ethan’s name had sparked a familiar itch in her mind.
Why does it feel like I know him?
The closest thing she’d been able to piece together was her sister’s and Ethan’s caseworker were the same person, Sil Clearwater.
Her editor was getting antsy about posting the Ferris wheel story and had confronted her just this morning about stonewalling the article in favor of the Halston disappearance, but now she was convinced they were connected.
She hadn’t worked this hard since reporting the campus box-office embezzlement scandal last year. After receiving a tip from a disgruntled senior theatre major that the campus box office was skimming money from ticket sales.
She was in her office, the cluttered newsroom was quiet save for the hum of her laptop.
“Hey, you, uh, you Asako Kato?”
She turned to see a scruffy-looking guy in a black hoodie standing awkwardly near her cubicle. His messenger bag was hung low over one shoulder as he shifted nervously.
“I might be, who’s asking?” She said, tilting her head, her eyes looking over glasses.
The guy glanced around as if someone would be ready to attack him, “I’m Kyle. Theater major. You’re a reporter, right?”
“So what if I am?” She said, more clandestine than she meant.
The guy glanced around again, scratching the back of his neck, “I think…I think the box office is skimming money.”
Asako’s eyebrows rose, “You think or you know?”
“I know,” Kyle said. “The Dean of Fine Arts—Dunham— he’s in on it. His son too, runs the box office, they’re working with one of the theater professors — Professor Hargrove. I’m telling you they’re laundering ticket sales and pocketing the cash. I worked there last semester. I watched them do it.”
“Laundering ticket sales?” She repeated, “And why are you just coming forward with this now? They did not cast you as Atticus Finch in this season’s production of To Kill A Mocking Bird?”
Asako laughed at her own joke.
Kyle’s eyes darkened,” It’s not exactly easy to accuse people who are in charge of giving me grades.”
Asako considered his answer. What followed was three months of reconnaissance work, she saw every play, musical, third-rate magician, and senior theater production that semester. She never wanted to hear the soundtrack from My Fair Lady ever again. Eventually, she was able to befriend one of the ticketers, and after a long night of drunk musical theater karaoke, the ticketer spilled the whole thing. She printed the story the next day, leaving the ticketers name out of it, of course. Both the Dean of Fine Arts and box office manager were immediately dismissed and the theater professor mysteriously retired at the end of that year.
Asako’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound of sirens in the distance growing louder. She paused, tilting her head in the direction of the sound. Sirens were like a dog whistle to reporters and they meant one thing — breaking news. Leaning over the railing, she squinted toward the horizon beyond the apartment complex. The piercing sound wasn’t fading, it was coming closer. It was coming towards campus.
Quickly she descended the spiral staircase, her heavy boots clanking against the metal. She nearly slipped at the base on patchy ice. The crisp afternoon air bit at her cheeks, but her focus became laser-like. She reached her car as she saw the blinding blue and red flashes of emergency vehicles streaking past the main road leading towards campus.
Her pulse quickened. She gripped her car door handle and fumbled for her keys. A buzzing sound came from her phone in her jacket pocket. Without looking at the screen, she answered it, her tone clipped, “Asako here.”
“Asako, it’s Brian,” her editor's voice came through, “Anything on that Ethan-Jason lead, we need to get this to press ASAP.”
“Nothing yet,” she said, her voice rising with irritation. “But something’s going down on campus. I just saw police and EMS heading towards the Spire. I’m on my way over now.”
“Campus?” Brian asked, his interest piqued. “Do you know what’s happening?”
“Not yet, but I’m on my way now to find out,” Asako said, sliding into the driver’s seat, and cranking the engine. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Be safe, and for God's sake, get an eyewitness quote while you’re on the scene,” Brian said.
Asako smirked and disconnected the call.
She peeled out of the parking lot and quickly caught up to the emergency vehicles, weaving through light traffic. Asako’s heart raced, she had never been this close to a breaking story. A thrill shot through her as her mind buzzed with the possibilities. Were the dorms on fire? Was there an accident in one of the labs? Or was it something else entirely?
The closer she got to campus, the more chaotic the scene became. Flashing lights bathed the streets in red and blue as a crowd of students gathered near the universities iconic bell tower. Asako parked haphazardly along the curb, hoping parking enforcement was not out today. SSU parking officials were merciless with their citations.
Whatever, I’ll bill it to the Ledger .
She ran in the direction of the students, grabbing her phone and notebook as she approached.
“Excuse me, press…coming through. Excuse me, reporter coming through,” she bellowed as the crowd of students parted. She slipped through the throng of onlookers. The bell tower loomed ominously in the background, its shadow st retching across the quad in the afternoon Colorado sunshine. Police cars and fire trucks surrounded off the area. Yellow tape was being rolled around the quad beneath the bell tower.
Asako ran toward an officer who was pulling the yellow tape down the parameter.
“Excuse me, officer, what happened?” Asako said, trying to catch her breath.
The officer continued pulling the tape, “Please keep back, this is a crime scene. Please step back.”
“I’m with the press,” She said, pulling a press badge from her inner pocket.
The cop looked at it unimpressed, “I don’t care if you’re the Pope, you’re not getting over this line.”
Asako watched as the cop continued pushing onlookers back, the officer wore a thick winter coat with the Denver Police Department insignia. Where was SSU police? She needed to find Detective Farmer. Her instincts surged like adrenaline. Something big just happened and it happened at the base of the bell tower.