Felony Jones

Three

     Felony pulled up to her driveway and waited for the gate to open. She loved her house. It was a Spanish bungalow with lush grounds that kept it private. It had a small kidney shaped pool and quite a few palm trees for a back yard of its size. The house itself wasn't huge, but it was hers. She bought it as a fixer upper and it took years to get back in to its original shape, but it was worth it. Felony worked hard to get where she was and was grateful for what she had. She gave the universe a quick thank you every time she pulled up to her driveway. As soon as she entered the garage, she could hear Jeff barking wildly, bouncing off the door between the pantry and the garage. She shut off the car, and grabbed her bag as the garage door closed. "Alright Jeff, just a minute!" it always made her feel good coming home to an overly excited dog. She walked up a few steps and unlocked the door, gently pushing it open. Jeff flew out, running circles around her as she walked through the pantry and into the dining room. "How's my boy? How are you?" Felony dropped her bag on the dining room table and bent down so Jeff could lick her face and give a proper greeting. She picked him up and gave him a hug and several kisses before putting him back down. "How's your day been? Did you eat yet?" He barked at her once, danced on his hind legs, then darted off. Felony raised an eyebrow, putting her hands on her hips. "Okay..."

She opened the refrigerator and took a bottle of water out of it. After a long drink she paused, listening for noise. "Toshiro?" She took a few steps forward and stopped, listening again. "Toshiro? Are you here?" She heard a door close down the hall. Jeff came running into the dining room with a ball in his mouth, followed by Toshiro a few seconds later. "Good afternoon Miss Felony." Toshiro said as he gave a quick head nod. "Good afternoon Toshiro."

Toshiro was always formal. He was also very quiet. That was a quality she admired, even though he moved around the house barely making a sound. She learned to overlook it for the most part, instead relying on the creaky wood floors of an older home to pinpoint where he was at any given moment. It didn't always work, he startled her frequently. Toshiro and his wife, Vivian, originally met in the Manzanar internment camp, marrying after they were released. Together, they started an income tax business in Century City and ran it until his wife died. He retired a few years later, having lost his passion for it, leaving the business to a nephew since Toshiro and Vivian never had children of their own. Felony had gotten to know Toshiro's nephew over time, so when he officially took over the business, and Toshiro officially retired, he suggested Felony hire him as her assistant. It was mainly to keep Toshiro from getting bored and lonely since he didn't really have any hobbies, and he loathed the idea of spending his final days wasting away at the local senior center with people who he described as, "death knockers," telling his nephew that it was out of the question. Toshiro said he had too much vitality to sit around eating soft foods and putting jigsaw puzzles together all day. She understood what he meant. Felony considered Toshiro more of a longtime acquaintance than an assistant. She had some reservations at first, mostly because she valued her privacy more than anything, and having someone in the house while she was gone was disconcerting to her, but it had worked out well for the most part. Sure, he wrote down her messages in Japanese, but Jeff loved him to death, and that was a testament to his character. About six months after he started coming to her house daily, he showed up one Monday morning and announced that he had sold his home and was going to live with her full time. She was shocked, but didn't protest, admitting to herself that she didn't have a reasonable argument against it. Besides, she had the room.

"Do I have any messages?" Felony asked, knowing he wouldn't just hand them over. Toshiro nodded. "But first you must eat something." Felony mostly lived on snacks and coffee. She hated cooking and it wasn't a requirement in Toshiro's loose job description, but he made sure to slip in a real meal whenever he could. Felony knew it was no use arguing with him, he wasn't going to translate the message until she ate. She always wondered if Toshiro got some pleasure in making her wait until he was ready to give her the messages, as if it were some power move on his part. She was okay with that if it was, she understood the impulse. Toshiro went into the kitchen and got to work. Felony sat down at the dining room table and pulled out the file David had given her. She put her glasses on and settled in. She didn't see any an inventory of Michaels belongings listed anywhere. She'd have to find out what happened there. She had a few pieces of paper and several pictures laid out, staring at them when she glanced over at Toshiro, just in time to see him slip Jeff a piece of food. "He shouldn't be eating that." she said, looking over the top of her glasses.