Missing Her Read online

  Missing Her

  Missing Her

  Brenda Chapman

  Copyright © 2017 Brenda Chapman

  First published in 2017 by Grass Roots Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada.

  Produced with the assistance of the Government of Alberta, Alberta Multimedia Development Fund.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Chapman, Brenda, 1955–, author

  Missing her / Brenda Chapman.

  (Anna Sweet series)

  ISBN 978-1-77153-010-1 (softcover)

  ISBN 978-1-77153-182-5 (ebook)

  I. Title. II. Series: Chapman, Brenda, 1955– . Anna Sweet mysteries.

  PS8605.H36M57 2017 C813’.6 C2017–902441–8

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  For Steve and Lorraine Chapman

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  A cold north wind was blowing snow into my face as I trudged toward my PI office in Hintonburg. Six days before Christmas and the city was a sparkly snow globe of icy white. Red and green lights flashed Merry Christmas in Gino Roma’s pizza shop, to the left of the stairs that led to Storm Investigations. I wanted to be in the holiday mood, but so far I was feeling like the Grinch—green, grumpy, and sick of listening to never-ending Christmas carols in malls and restaurants.

  Five shopping days left to the big day and I hadn’t bought one gift. I was seriously considering booking a flight south and disappearing Christmas Eve.

  Bah humbug.

  The door at street level and our office door at the top of the stairs were both unlocked. I found my partner, Jada Price, working at her desk with a glass of what looked like egg nog within arm’s reach. Nutmeg and a cherry floated on top of the creamy white liquid. She was humming “Santa Claus is coming to town . . .” but stopped when she saw me in the doorway.

  “Gino sent up some rum nog,” she said, pointing to the fridge. “Help yourself.”

  “A bit early in the day, isn’t it?”

  “Never too early for some cheer.” She studied my face as she lifted her glass and toasted me. “Did Nick make his flight okay?”

  “He did. I expect he’s landing in New York City as we speak.”

  “And he’s gone until New Year’s?”

  “Work before pleasure.”

  Jada shook her black dreadlocks. “I don’t understand the movie industry.”

  “They’re filming Christmas scenes and want to use the New York backdrop while it’s decked out for the holidays.”

  “Still.” She took a long swallow of egg nog. After a twenty-second pause, she said, “A man named Albert Romaine is arriving shortly and I’m hoping you can meet with him. I have an apartment viewing in an hour.”

  “Any information about Romaine?”

  “Not really. He said it was about a cold case when he called. Nick took the message and started a computer file before he left yesterday.”

  I was quiet for a moment. Nick still liked working in our office when he wasn’t on a film shoot. But his acting reputation was growing and he was in demand. He likely wouldn’t be working for us much longer. I shrugged out of my coat, sat down at my desk, and opened the Romaine file.

  Albert Romaine hadn’t given Nick more than an address and phone number. He lived in Orleans, an Ottawa suburb that was sixteen miles east of the downtown. Nick’s note said that Romaine wanted to meet us before giving any more details.

  The secretive type, I thought. I leaned back in my chair and watched the snow swirling outside the window.

  “What kind of movie?” Jada asked.

  I turned my head. “Movie?”

  “Nick. You know—in New York.”

  “Oh. Romantic comedy.”

  “I thought Nick hated those.”

  “Carolina Mambella is his co-star. She begged him to take the part. Their last movie together was a big hit. The movie critics say their on-screen chemistry is remarkable.” I tried to sound happy about that.

  “I’m sure Nick could co-star next to a turnip and they’d say the same thing. He’s one gorgeous hunk of man.” Jada stood up quickly and grabbed her parka from the coat rack on her way to the door. “I hope this apartment in the Glebe is decent. Henry and I have to move by the end of January.”

  “Will your brother be able to stay in the same high school if you leave your neighbourhood?”

  “I don’t see why not.” She bent down to put on her boots. “Especially if I don’t tell anybody. Let me know how it goes with the Romaine guy. The case is all yours if you decide to take it. I plan to take next week off for Christmas and to start packing for the move.”

  “An old cold case might be just the distraction to get me through the Christmas holidays,” I said.

  I decided to put off booking a ticket south, until after I found out what Romaine wanted.

  . . .

  Albert Romaine arrived twenty minutes after Jada clumped down the stairs. He was a large, out-of-shape man with sandy hair cut short in the back with a long swoop of bangs that fell across one eye. I placed him in his mid- to late twenties. He had a square jaw and piercing blue eyes that took in the office, and me, before he crossed the room to sit in the visitor chair. We shook hands before he sat down.

  “Can I get you a coffee, tea?” I asked to kick things off.

  “No, thanks.” He took a deep breath. “How good are you at finding people?”

  “We’ve found a number of missing people. Who are you searching for?”

  “My fiancée, Shelley Vincent. She disappeared over a year ago and the police have stopped looking.” He looked down at his hands folded in his lap. His right knee was jumping up and down, the only sign that he was upset.

  I tried to recall if I’d heard about his missing girlfriend but nothing came to me. “Do you think she’s come to any harm?” I asked.

  His head shot up. “God, I hope not. The cops have no idea what happened to her.” His eyes met mine. “I was out of town when she went missing and they ruled me out as a suspect.”

  “Were you getting along before she left? Were there any signs she was unhappy?”

  A flash of anger crossed his face before his mouth relaxed into a smile. “We were very happy together. And no, I didn’t see any signs of anything wrong before I went to Toronto that week on business. She called her mother and sister after she took me to the airport, then went to work later that day and the next morning. Nobody noticed anything off.”

  “Why were you angry just now?” I asked.

  He raised both hands, palms skyward. “I’ve been grilled by the police about our relationship, as if I must have done something to her. I’m frustrated that I’m the only suspect they looked at, when I’m innocent. In my opinion, they didn’t try hard enough to find her. Before or after they ruled me out.”

  “I can start today if you’d like to hire us. I have a standard contract ready to sign. It states our hourly rates.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine with paying whatever it takes. It would be good to have her home for Christmas . . . or at least to know what happened to her.
I haven’t been able to move on.”

  “Christmas is only a few days away, but I’ll do the best I can. I’ll need a list of people in your lives, where you both work, and other information. We can start with this questionnaire.”

  “Whatever you want. She means the world to me and it’s killing me not knowing if she’s okay.”

  . . .

  An hour and a half later, Albert had told me all he could about his missing fiancée and their life together. He gave me his cellphone number and asked that I call him if I found out anything, no matter the time, day or night. He looked out the window before leaving.

  “Bad driving tonight,” he said. “Are you on the bus or did you drive in?”

  “Drove. I’ve got a parking spot behind the building.”

  “Good snow tires?”

  “Not really. It’s a loaner and has all-season tires.”

  “You really need good winter tires in this weather.”

  “Yeah, I plan to visit the Chevy dealership when I have a free day.”

  “Well, take it easy on the way home.”

  I sat sorting through my notes long after he’d gone and began outlining my interview list. Albert had met Shelley in college when they were both twenty-one, some four years earlier. They’d been engaged and living together for more than two years before she disappeared. Shelley had a business certificate and helped manage a Tim Hortons coffee shop in the east end. Albert was a computer programmer working for the government.

  He’d given me a photo of her before leaving: Shelley standing in the kitchen, looking up at him as he snapped the picture. She was of medium height and build with long brown hair and hazel eyes. Pretty, but not a woman who would stand out in a crowd. She had a startled look in her eyes, as if Albert had surprised her, but I couldn’t detect any other emotion on her face.

  Albert had snapped the picture the morning that she drove him to the airport. “It was taken in the last hour that we were together,” he’d said as he handed the photo to me. “I keep looking at it, trying to figure out what was going on in her head.”

  I stood and stretched before checking my watch. Nearly five o’clock and darkness had settled in. I crossed to the window and craned my neck to see the street below. The snow was falling faster and the road was bumper to bumper with barely moving traffic. I decided against visiting Shelley’s workplace at the other end of the city, but I’d stop at the Elgin Street police station on my way home.

  Albert had given a copy of the police report to me, and my soon-to-be-ex brother-in-law Officer Jimmy Wilson’s signature was scrawled across the bottom. He and my sister Cheri had been living apart. She’d filed divorce papers a month earlier, and last I heard, he hadn’t signed them. Hopefully, I’d catch him before he left for the day. Jimmy and I had a history that included being engaged before he dumped me for Cheri.

  With any luck, he wouldn’t hold a grudge against me for turning down his offer of getting back together the last time I’d seen him. That was about as likely as seeing reindeer fly across the sky pulling a sled full of toys.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The desk officer told me to sit in the waiting area after he called Jimmy to report my arrival. Usually Jimmy invited me right in, so this was new. Forty-five minutes later, the officer told me that Jimmy was ready for me in his office.

  Let the games begin.

  Jimmy was on the phone with his back to me when I took the visitor chair across from his desk. He raised his pointer finger above his head to let me know that he’d be a minute.

  “Okay,” he said into the phone as he turned to face me. “Deliver it to the station on Elgin and give my name at the front desk.” He hung up.

  “Police business?” I asked.

  “Could say. What brings you here this cold winter evening, PI Sweet?”

  I studied him for a moment. The lines around his eyes suggested a lack of sleep. His face was greyish in the bright overhead light. “How are you, Jimmy?”

  “Never better.”

  “I’m sorry for how it turned out . . . with Cheri.”

  “All for the best in the long run. She’s found a new man who appears to suit her more than I did. You have, too, for that matter.” He smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I’ll get over it, Sweet.”

  “You haven’t been to visit Dad.”

  “I needed distance from your family. In fact, I’m flying to Cuba for a Club Med vacation later tonight.”

  “But Evan will miss you over the holidays.”

  “Cheri has him until New Year’s Eve. The new reality.” He picked up the stapler and squeezed it hard. “So why are you here?”

  “I have a new client named Albert Romaine. His fiancée’s been missing for more than a year and you investigated her case. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah. Shelley Vincent. We cleared her boyfriend, Albert, since he was out of town with a lot of witnesses to his whereabouts that week. I concluded it was a suicide because her wallet and credit cards were left behind. No clothes were taken either, and there was no action on their joint bank account. We’ll probably find her body in some remote wilderness location one of these days.”

  “Did she have a car?”

  “She had a driver’s licence. But they only had one car so Albert usually dropped her off at work and picked her up. The car was in the driveway.”

  “How would she have gotten to the wilderness, then?”

  “We think she used a bike. Albert said she didn’t own one but she could have bought one with cash if she was planning this. He said she’d talked just the week before about getting a bike to get around the city.”

  “So, you never actually located a bike.”

  “No, but we’ll likely find it when we find her bones.”

  I was silent, taking a moment to process what Jimmy was telling me. “Albert said that she was happy and he didn’t have any idea why she left. Did anyone you interviewed notice signs that she was depressed?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Nobody had much to say about her state of mind. She was busy with work and getting ready for their wedding. I think it would be best if you talk to her family and friends yourself and get your own take. Maybe I missed something that you’ll see with fresh eyes.”

  “Okay.”

  We stared at each other. I knew he didn’t want my sympathy and I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t come out sad. He dropped the stapler onto the desk and stood up.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  We talked about nothing important on the way to the front entrance. The desk officer waved Jimmy over as we started down the corridor. He was chatting with a young man who had his back to us.

  The officer said, “Your delivery is here, Wilson.”

  The young man turned and said to Jimmy, “Cash or credit?” He was holding a large pizza box in one hand and a credit card machine in the other.

  “Police business, eh, Officer Wilson?” I said. I put my arm across his shoulders and gave a quick squeeze. “Merry Christmas, Jimmy. Enjoy your trip south.”

  Jimmy reached out an arm and hugged me back. “You’re welcome to join me in Cuba,” he said as he started walking toward the desk. He turned without stopping and grinned. “No strings attached.”

  “Sounds inviting, but no thanks.”

  I stepped outside into a foot of new snow and a cold wind whipping around the building. Dad was getting ready to fly to Florida to spend the holidays with his lady friend Betty. The storm would be over by December 23, when he was to fly out. Everyone was going south, it seemed. Dad, Jimmy—even Nick, although New York wasn’t exactly a tropical getaway. I didn’t know what Cheri and Evan had planned but I imagined they would be going somewhere warm too, with her new boyfriend. I’d be the only one left in Ottawa. I didn’t mind, though. Not really. December 25 was just a day on the calendar. No more or less important than any other day.

  . . .

  Dad was in the kitchen pulling a pot roast out of the oven when I got home. He s
et the pan on the counter and wiped his forehead with a dish towel as I turned down the volume on the radio. “Jingle Bells” faded into the background.

  “You’re home,” he said. “I thought you’d be here a lot sooner.”

  “New case. Roast smells delicious.”

  “I’ll serve it up if you open the bottle of red wine on the table.”

  “Deal.”

  I walked into the dining room and saw the table set for three. “Is someone else joining us?” I called to Dad as I wrestled with the cork.

  “Yeah, call Evan to wash up. He’s in the spare bedroom reading.”

  I walked to the bottom of the stairs and called up to my nephew. He appeared on the landing, his hair sticking up in tufts and his sweater on inside out. He jumped down the steps and gave me a hug.

  “You’re getting so tall, buddy,” I said rubbing the top of his head.

  “Catching up to you,” he said before slipping past me. “Sit down Aunt Anna and I’ll help Grandpa serve supper.”

  “You know that I love you to bits, right?” I asked as I followed him back into the dining room. Even with all the craziness going on between his parents, Evan was one terrific seven-year-old kid. He’d become very attached to my dad, spending a lot of time at our house.

  We ate slowly and caught up on each other’s news. I found out that school was out for the holidays and Evan was staying with us until Christmas Eve. Cheri and her boyfriend were on holiday in Barbados for the week.

  “A last-minute decision,” Dad said quietly when Evan had gone to the kitchen to get ice cream and bowls. “Evan didn’t want to go with them so I offered.”

  “What is wrong with her?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

  Evan yelled from the kitchen. “You bought the chocolate cookie dough kind, Grandpa!”

  Dad held my stare. “Because I knew it was your favourite!” he called back.

  . . .

  Later, after we’d eaten and Dad took Evan out in his truck, I sat at the desk Dad had set up for me under a window and read through Jimmy’s notes. Shelley’s mother, Grace Vincent, lived in the Vanier neighbourhood of Ottawa. Her younger sister, Rosemary, appeared to be at the same address. The father, Denis Vincent, lived in Oakville, near Toronto, with his second wife. The file contained their phone number. All good contact information, if nobody had moved since the last round of interviews.