Armed With Pencils

Sojiro Shimada sat in his office in downtown Seattle, his fingers threaded together as he gazed at the private investigator sitting across from him. “What do you have for me?”

“Jesse McCree, eighteen years of age. Currently living with his adopted family in Santa Fe, New Mexico and enrolled at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque starting next month. Employed at Alder Feed & Supply in Santa Fe.” 

The detective set a fat manila envelope on the desk between them, and Sojiro nodded for her to continue. “Friendly and well-liked, but few close friends, only one known living relative that he has no contact with, and no romantic relationships prior to your son that I could find. Social media accounts are rarely updated. His history before age twelve is spotty at best, but I wouldn’t worry.” The ghost of a smile flitted across her dark features, and she draped an arm over the backrest of her chair. “Honestly, this was the tamest job you’ve ever sent me on, sir. Practically a vacation.” 

Barely raising an eyebrow, Sojiro slid the envelope toward himself. He would look at it when he was finished here. “What do you mean by ‘spotty at best’?”

There was a shrug in reply. “He went into foster care at seven -- the police report preceding that is in there -- and his records were sealed when he was legally adopted at fourteen. He’s been squeaky clean since then. Car accident report is a bit gristly, but nothing worse than what you’ve seen before. That’s about it.”

“Thank you, then, Ms. Tamborra. I will have the balance of your fee transferred directly.”

Tamborra rose at the dismissal and bowed slightly. “Pleasure working with you, as always,” she said, and let herself out.

Once the door was closed, Sojiro picked up the manila envelope and slid the stack of papers out of it. Tamborra’s summary was on top, only slightly more detailed than what she had told him aloud and with several candid photos paperclipped to it, followed by her comprehensive report. She had been thorough, performing surveillance with an associate, interviewing McCree’s employer and a few teachers, pulling public records, combing social media accounts -- most things pointed to a very private individual who was hard-working, charismatic, and resourceful. The photos were completely mundane: McCree jogging, mowing the lawn, at his place of employment ...

The most recent thing on his Facebook page was someone’s post to his wall wishing him a happy birthday the month before, preceded by a handful graduation photos his adoptive mother had tagged him in -- Sojiro saved the ones that Hanzo was also in. He did the same with the prom photos from May before continuing to scroll. It didn’t take long to get to the end; McCree seemed to post only when there was an event, like being accepted to college, having some of his work published, or joining the staff of the school newspaper (and one lonely post from a few years back stating he was out of the hospital with no context), while information about his daily activities was limited to tagged posts belonging to Ms. Amari. There was a status change from ‘single’ to ‘in a relationship’ in late March, shortly before Hanzo had come home for spring break.

 His Twitter account was all but blank.

Skimming the report from the accident -- ‘gristly’ was an adequate word for it -- Sojiro left the two other reports, each more than ten years old, slid everything back into the envelope, and locked it away. 

If Hanzo had actually come to him to speak about something in his personal life, it meant that he was incredibly serious about it: his eldest son was not generally forthcoming with that sort of information. It only made sense for Sojiro to investigate the young man, and he was relieved that nothing indicated he would have to perform a more thorough, less legal follow-up, or offer him a large sum of money to disappear and never contact Hanzo again. It seemed it was safe to let things progress for now.