A Model Death Page 3

  Jimmy and Shaw were in Shaw’s office drinking coffee when I arrived, shaking rain from my hair and coat. Shaw pointed to the coffee pot near the window and I poured myself a cup before sitting down next to Jimmy. We took a moment to gulp some liquid caffeine before Shaw started talking.

  “The first results from Lena Caruso’s drug testing are back. She was high on cocaine at the time of her death. A large amount of the drug was in her system. Signs are that she was a regular user. She was knocked on the head from behind before she was strangled by hand. Whoever did it was wearing gloves. The killer didn’t leave behind any physical evidence.”

  “So it was planned ahead of time,” I said.

  Murder in the first degree.

  “No question.”

  “I’m surprised she was using hard drugs. She was a health food and fitness lover on the show.” Proving once again that you can create a TV character for anybody and people will believe it’s the real person. I asked, “What have you got on Nick Roma?”

  Shaw and Jimmy exchanged looks. Shaw said, “He was the last one she texted that night. She was supposed to meet him at the restaurant at Dow’s Lake.”

  “Nick said that he was there but she never showed.” I made my voice sound bored—as if they had no proof of anything. “What else have you got?”

  Jimmy couldn’t hold back any longer. “Everyone says that Nick wanted to get back with her. Lena told the other models that she let him know they could only be friends. She also said that someone from her past was bothering her.” He watched me as he spoke. “Jealous anger is a motive in my book.”

  “So again, no real evidence,” I said, staring back. I thought about yawning to show how unimpressed I was but held back. Jimmy already had that stubborn look on his face that he got when he was sure he was right.

  Shaw drew our attention back to him. “With luck, it’s just a matter of time. I’m hoping you’ll share whatever you find out, Sweet. Because I know you’re digging, and Roma works for you. It won’t go well if you try to protect him.”

  “I’ll tell you when I have evidence of the real killer,” I said, setting my coffee cup on the desk and standing up. “But you have to take off your blindfold and look at all the suspects, not just Nick Roma. Otherwise, your case against him will fold like a house of cards.”

  I left them without promising anything. I’d managed not to let on how worried I was that Nick really was guilty. I was going to keep searching until I had proof one way or the other. However, unlike Jimmy, I wanted Nick to be innocent. I needed to know that what I’d started to feel for him wasn’t based on lies.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I parked in the oversized driveway of the model house and surveyed the yard through the steadily falling rain. The police cars were gone and the grey brick appeared gloomy under the low black clouds. The front yard looked naked with all the trees removed and interlocking stone instead of grass. The property was large but had no personality. Not a bit of homey warmth to be found.

  As I watched, the front door opened. Director John Shore stepped outside and right behind him was the writer, Raymond Martel. I’d learned his full name from a list of crew I’d found on the internet. They stood talking on the front steps under the protection of the sloped roof. I got out of my car and hurried toward them. They stopped talking and watched me climb the steps to stand in front of them.

  “Not filming today?” I asked.

  Shore shook his head. “I decided to give the girls a day off. They’re a little out of sorts with all that’s been going on. We’re bringing in a new model right after Thanksgiving weekend to liven the house up again.”

  “I’m sure that will help.” How shallow are you people? “What country is she from?”

  Shore squinted at me as if trying to remember where he’d seen me before. He paused before saying, “France. Raymond worked with her a few years ago.”

  “Did you know that Lena was using drugs?” I asked.

  They exchanged looks before Shore said, “Nearly everyone in this industry uses something. Whatever she was into didn’t affect her work.”

  I looked at Raymond. “Do you agree?”

  “Yeah. Lena always delivered.” I could have sworn he smiled before he turned away. He stepped around me to leave. Shore pushed himself past me and put himself squarely in my path, blocking my escape down the stairs.

  “The girls are home but not taking company,” Shore said. “And since you’re not a cop, you’re not welcome here today. In fact, you’re not welcome here tomorrow either.” His eyes had turned an icy shade of blue. He’d obviously just remembered who I was, and someone must have let slip that I was a PI. “Bad things can happen to people who poke their noses in where they don’t belong.”

  My heart started pounding harder in my chest and sweat beaded on my forehead. “That sounded like a threat.”

  “You can take it any way you want.” He came closer, until my face was level with his chest. “Now get off this property.” He reached out and shoved me backwards. I stumbled. It took a few seconds for me to regain my balance. Shore took another step toward me but I’d had enough. I scooted past him without saying anything and and ran down the steps. I walked quickly back to my car and he followed close on my heels. If he was trying to scare me, it was working. Shore watched while I got into my car. After I turned on my engine, he sauntered over to an idling BMW with Raymond behind the wheel.

  I started driving slowly down the driveway. A moment later, the BMW zipped past me, both men laughing with their mouths wide open. I pulled out and turned in the opposite direction, driving slowly up the street. I checked my rear view mirror several times until I saw that they’d turned the corner. I made a U-turn and parked a few houses down from the model house. A full ten minutes passed while I waited to make sure they didn’t come back. The time out gave me a chance to push back my fear and to stop my hands from shaking. Then I got out of my car and ran through the pouring rain to the front door.

  . . .

  I rang the bell and after a few minutes of no response, I tried the handle. The door opened and I stepped inside. I retraced my path to the back room where I’d found Sang Hee and Ella sitting on the couch the day before. I heard voices as I got closer, a man and a woman in a loud discussion. I stopped walking and listened just outside the doorway.

  “I’m sure my contract says I don’t have to do some of the things they’re asking. Especially not this.”

  I recognized Sang Hee Yum’s Korean accent. She sounded upset.

  “We’ll do the grieving thing for a few shows while I get over Lena. Then I’ll start comforting you. It’ll seem natural when we get together.”

  The man’s voice must belong to Lena’s pretend boyfriend, Dan Meech. I took a peek around the corner. They were sitting on the couch next to each other with their backs to me. They appeared to be holding scripts, likely for the next episode of the show.

  “I don’t know,” Sang Hee said. “It seems too soon to me. My fans might not buy it.”

  “No need to worry. We can pull it off. How’s Ella doing with . . . everything?”

  “She went to the spa for the day to take her mind off Lena. She’s flying to Mexico on Saturday for a shoot.”

  “We all need to take our minds off Lena. I think a new relationship between you and me will help viewers get over her death.”

  A door opened behind me and I turned to see a man in work clothes mopping the hallway. He spotted me and stopped what he was doing to stare. I took a step forward as if I was on my way into the living room. The man kept watching me so I continued walking into the room until I reached the couch. Two startled sets of eyes looked up at me. Sang Hee recognized me and her face relaxed.

  “Hi,” I said. I smiled at Sang Hee before saying to Dan, “You must have been Lena’s boyfriend on the show. So sorry for your loss.”

  “Yeah. I’m Dan Meech. I got written into the script a month ago. They were trying to boost ratings.” He had broad shoulders
and blond good looks. The perfect hunky leading man if I’d ever seen one. “Such a tragedy.”

  “I’m sure you’re going to miss her.”

  “Yeah. We had something special going on.”

  “Did you ever think about becoming her boyfriend for real?”

  Dan gave me a curious look. “Not on your life. She wasn’t my type.” He paused and his eyes narrowed. “Who are you again?”

  “Just one of the people helping out with the investigation.”

  He frowned. “I thought the killer was already under arrest.”

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it.” By the suspicious look in Dan’s eyes, it seemed like a good time to make my exit. “Well, been nice meeting you,” I said as I turned to leave.

  Sang Hee stood up in one swift movement. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to lie down. We can practise our lines later.” She glanced at Dan and hurried ahead of me out of the room.

  “Everything okay?” I asked when we reached the hall.

  Sang Hee turned. Her beautiful black eyes were troubled. “Of course. Does John Shore know you’ve come back here?”

  “Probably not.”

  She studied me for a moment before turning and walking in front of me to the bottom of the stairs. Then she turned, one hand on the banister. “You should be careful,” she said softly. “Lena was scared for a reason.” Then she ran up the stairs and out of sight.

  I left the house and pulled out my cellphone as I reached my car. The conversations this morning had given me lots to think about and more digging to do. I would begin with a second visit to Nick Roma. I knew he had more information about Lena Caruso and it was time he shared it. That is, if he wanted me to help him stay out of prison.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nick didn’t answer his phone. Jada answered hers, but she had no idea where to find him. I hung up and thought for a minute. Then I phoned Roma’s pizzeria. Gino picked up.

  “Gino, it’s Anna Sweet. I’m trying to find Nick.”

  “Anna. Thank goodness you’re working on my boy’s case. Nicky would never harm a hair on that girl’s head. He’s a good boy, my Nicky.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “He’s staying at my house in Little Italy. Twenty-two Oak Street. You go there now and I’ll send over a pizza. A large with the works. Extra cheese. You want anchovies?”

  “Sure, why not. I should be at your house in twenty minutes.”

  “Tell Nick he has to eat something. You’ll find some red wine on the counter next to the fridge. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks Gino.”

  “Take care of him, Anna. He’s not in a good way. I’m worried for him.”

  Nick has given us all reason to be worried for him.

  The rain had stopped and the sun was peeking out when I drove east into Little Italy. Gino lived in a three-storey red brick house that faced a school and a soccer field. The homes on the street were close together, with front porches and tiny backyards. This was a neighbourhood where people knew each other and shared long summer evenings outside.

  It took Nick a full five minutes to answer the door. By then, I was leaning on the doorbell.

  He held onto the door with one hand and filled the opening. He was wearing a white undershirt and jeans, his feet bare. His hair was uncombed and dark circles were under his sad black eyes. “What do you want, Anna?” he asked.

  “I have more questions.”

  “I’m not really up for company.”

  “I know. But this is important.”

  Nick looked at me for a long time. Long enough for my heart to start beating faster and my face to flush. He had a way of looking at me that made me feel as if he could see what I was thinking. At last, he opened the door wider and stepped aside to let me by.

  We walked into the kitchen at the back of the house. It was a surprisingly sunny room for an old building. The walls were lined with tall oak cupboards and the latest cooking appliances sat on the granite counter top. A pine table stood under a hanging stained glass lamp. I found the wine and a couple of glasses and sat down across from Nick. He’d already taken a seat at the table and started working on a half-finished crossword puzzle. It looked like I’d interrupted him. I poured two glasses of wine and pushed one in front of him.

  “Why did you really break up with Lena?” I asked.

  “We’d grown apart.” He said the words without energy, not looking up from the crossword puzzle.

  “So you already said.” I paused. “Now tell me the real reason.”

  He took his time filling in a word on the puzzle before he set his pen down. Then he took a deep breath and slowly let it out before staring across the table at me. “We were young. Moved in together when we were just eighteen years old and broke up less than two years later. We had grown apart. Lena wanted a jet set life with constant parties, shopping, and excitement. I liked reading, biking, and camping when I wasn’t making a movie. I could have changed for her, I suppose. But I didn’t like the person she was becoming, or the new friends she brought home. I moved to Venice for a summer to film a movie and didn’t go back.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “Lena was angry at first, and worried about her career. She felt that her image would be damaged if word got out that I dumped her. That never mattered to me so I told her to say she split up with me. After a year, Lena tried to start back up with me, but I wasn’t interested. She moved to Ottawa several months back and tried again. She said that she wanted to get out of the life she’d made for herself. She knew now what was important.”

  “She was very beautiful.”

  “I’d moved on.”

  “Was Lena taking drugs when you were together?”

  He hesitated, then said, “At the end, yes.”

  “Would you recognize any of her friends from back in Italy?”

  Nick shook his head. “I didn’t have much to do with them.”

  The doorbell rang and I jumped up to get the pizza. The smell made me light-headed—I hadn’t eaten all day. I served up cheesy slices and refilled our wine glasses. I was happy to see Nick take a few bites of the piece I’d set in front of him.

  I started putting my ideas together out loud. “Something happened to make Lena want out of her lifestyle. She was talking about leaving the show. She wanted to get back with you.”

  Nick said, “She told me that she did. But I think she just wanted to go back in time and start over. I reminded her of a simpler time, when she was happy.”

  I finished my first piece of pizza and took another out of the box. “She told someone from the show that a person from her past life was bothering her. If it wasn’t you, then we have to figure out who it was. Because that’s likely the person who killed her.”

  The doorbell rang again, but Nick didn’t make any move to stand up.

  “I’ll get it,” I said. I walked to the front door and looked out the peephole. When I saw who was standing on the front porch, I wished that I’d stayed in my chair back in the kitchen.

  Jimmy frowned at me when I pulled the door open. Another officer was a few feet behind him on the walkway.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Jimmy said. “We’ve come to take your pal Nick in for more questioning.”

  “Why, have you found something new? Because you had nothing before.”

  Jimmy chewed on the inside of his cheek. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to tell me anything, he said, “Nick deposited thirty thousand dollars into Lena Caruso’s account two months ago. He gave her five thousand more the day before she was killed. The money came from an offshore account and it took some detective work to trace it to him. Looks like Lena was blackmailing him. Killing her might have seemed easier than paying the next demand.”

  I stepped aside and let Jimmy walk by me without putting up an argument. There was no point. Nick had held back on me and now he was going to have to explain himself to the police.

  Not to mention, proving him innocent had ju
st gotten thirty-five thousand times harder.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A strange car was in Dad’s driveway when I made it home soon after eight o’clock that evening. Dad didn’t like company as a rule. I sat in my car and tried to see if anything was out of order. My eyes landed on the darkened steps. The outside light above the front door wasn’t turned on. Dad always turned it on. I got out of my car and walked up to the house, uneasy about what I might find.

  The front door was unlocked and I quietly stepped into the front hall. Thumping noises were coming from the living room. It sounded like somebody was being thrown about. I could feel nervous energy building inside me. If somebody was hurting my dad, they’d soon regret it. I crept along the wall until I reached the doorway where I eased my body into position, keeping out of sight. I tensed my legs, and lunged forward into the room.

  Dad had his back to me, his arms wrapped around a woman in a blue silk dress. A second woman was turning up the music on Dad’s ancient stereo. “I’m not sure I can lift you again,” Dad said as he spun his partner around. He spotted me in mid-stride, my mouth hanging open. The woman looking after the stereo saw me and turned the music back down. She had snow white hair and was wearing a sparkly black dress.

  “There you are,” Dad said. “Norma, Betty, and I were just practising for the dance contest at the end of the month. Ladies, meet my eldest daughter, Anna. She’s the PI that I told you about, working a case.”

  “How do you do?” I said.

  “Your dad has said so many nice things about you, dear,” Betty said, stepping back from Dad’s side. She had permed white hair with a blue tint and a pleasant face. “He’s very proud of you.”

  “He is?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Dad never complimented me if he could help it. I added, “Well, isn’t he turning into a big softie.”

  I glanced at my dad. A reddish flush had crept up his neck. He was looking at the floor.