Turning Secrets

by Brenda Chapman

  “The biological father couldn’t gain custody now, could he?”

  “We’re not sure, but he’d have to prove paternity first. The longer we have Hugo, the less likely it is that will happen. We’ve grown very attached to him.”

  “Yes, he’s a sweetie.” Teagan laughed. “How is Hugo?”

  Peter’s smile was wide and genuine. “He’s a strong little guy. He was whimpery at first but he’s settling in now that we’ve had him for a night. I always wanted a son.”

  “Well, I bet Hugo will be very happy living with you.” I know I would be.

  They were nearly done their coffee when he said, “Lorraine thought Nadia had turned her life around. But I know for a fact she hadn’t. Did you know anything about her … vocation?”

  “Vocation?”

  “How she made her money.”

  “She waitressed and she was going back to school. Was there something else?” He was looking at her again, trying to see inside her head, or at least that was how it felt. Teagan tried not to squirm under his stare.

  “Maybe not. She was industrious when it came to money.” He smiled and lifted his cup to his lips.

  They moved on to safer subjects and finished their coffee without mentioning Nadia again. Their half hour together was over much too soon. He walked her to the front of the apartment building before carrying on to his car. Maybe her imagination was working overtime, but he’d seemed to lose interest in their conversation once he realized she really didn’t know all that much about Nadia. She had the sneaking suspicion that he’d only spent time with her to go on a fishing expedition. That was okay, though. She’d been using him for her own fantasies.

  She met Jeff in the lobby staring out the plate-glass window. His face was beet red and his eyes were bloodshot — from crying, she thought. She stepped closer to him. “Is everything okay, Jeff?”

  He couldn’t be faking the agony in his eyes when he turned his head to look at her. “The police took Murray back into the station. They think he did something wrong. This’s how it started last time.”

  “Last time?”

  Jeff leaned his forehead against the window and closed his eyes. “When they said I touched that girl. They took Murray into the station and then they came for me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Rouleau stood next to Willy Ellington and Kingston Mayor Tom Clement and scanned the foyer of City Hall. All the usual media suspects were on hand for the planned update on the Armstrong case and an announcement from the mayor. All, that is, except for Marci. Rouleau had texted her a few minutes earlier without getting a response. What could be holding her up?

  Ellington had been subdued all morning, holding his cards close to his chest. Rouleau wanted to raise the topic of Vera’s resignation but hadn’t found the right opening. He’d bide his time until the car ride back to the station. Just as he thought about shooting another text to Marci to say he’d send her an update if she couldn’t make the briefing, she entered the room, her coat flapping loose about her legs and her hair windblown. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool spring air and Rouleau pictured her dashing from her car to City Hall. He imagined the scent of her perfume and his hands tangled in her hair. It had been a while. She nodded in his direction before taking a seat in the second row. Her eyes seemed amused, as if she’d read his mind.

  Mayor Clement took the mic first. He was in his late fifties but still youthful in appearance. Sandy-coloured hair with a cowlick on the top of his head made him appear boyish. Pleasant face and slim build. He wore a suit well and women voters had taken to him like a fish to water. Rouleau had met him numerous times before, along with his wife, Sally, who owned a high-end clothing boutique. They had two sons in their twenties, the elder at university studying political science, the younger living on his own in Kingston and taking time off from school to decide what he wanted to do with his life. Clement had told Rouleau that he too had taken awhile to find himself, although he’d done so while sowing his oats on a backpacking trip in Europe. Clement’s councillors and chief of staff milled about, angling for the best spot to be captured by the television camera. A couple of men waited off to the side and Clement motioned for them to join him at the mic. Rouleau recognized Harold Mortimer from other social gatherings and, of course, their current investigation. He tuned in to what Clement was saying.

  “I’m pleased to announce a major new project on the waterfront. The Kingston Casino will be breaking ground this fall with completion date set for two years from then. This will be a major tourism boon for the city and a win-win for all involved. Mortimer Construction has been awarded the contract and I’m thrilled to have Harold with us today to say a few words. Harold?” Clement shook hands with Mortimer before stepping back from the dais.

  Harold Mortimer’s thinning white hair was combed back with gel and he’d put on a charcoal-coloured suit for the occasion. His eyes met Rouleau’s for a split second as he stepped toward the mic and Rouleau saw sharpness in their blue depths. “Thank you, Mr. Mayor. We’re thrilled to have been awarded the contract for this landmark building that will have a lasting impact on Kingston’s economy. Immediately following today’s announcement, the architect Mick Jefferson’s drawings will be set up for public viewing right here in the foyer. We invite all comments and compliments.” He waited for the laughter to subside. “Thank you to Zimmerman, Jefferson, Reynolds, and Associates for a stellar design. The public consultation will last through April and May with last tweaks to the plans taking place this summer. We intend to put shovels in the ground mid-September.”

  There was applause from city staff and those who’d gathered for the announcement — likely Mortimer’s employees, Rouleau thought. He searched past the first row to find Marci who already had her hand up to ask a question. Clement pointed at a reporter with his hand raised in the front row.

  “Aren’t there zoning issues with putting a casino on the waterfront?”

  Clement motioned to the tall curly-haired man standing silently off to the side to take the mic. “City planner Mark Richardson will answer, and he’ll be on hand afterward to show the plans.”

  Richardson had to bend to speak into the mic. “Council approved the zoning change after a full environmental assessment. The building meets all restrictions concerning height and green space.”

  Marci’s voice rose above the others. “There’s been negative reaction from the public to building a casino downtown. Why are you going ahead with the location in the face of this strong vocal opposition?”

  Richardson turned to look behind him and stepped aside as the mayor moved forward. Clement stared directly at Marci. “Of course, we’ve taken all the public’s views into account, but we kept coming back to the need to revitalize the downtown core and to what makes the most economic sense. This project hits all the right buttons. Businesses are on board and tourism is going to boom. We were elected to show leadership, which is what we’re doing.” His gaze swung around the crowd. “Now, I know you have more questions. I’ll be on hand to answer them after Acting Chief Ellington brings you up to date on the recent investigation into the tragic death of a young mother.”

  Ellington waited for the chorus of questions from reporters to subside. Beside the dais, Clement raised both hands and slowly lowered them to still the voices to a murmur. “Well, you’re a hard act to follow this morning, Mr. Mayor, especially since I don’t have a great deal to report except that my officers are making progress. As I speak, a person of interest is being interviewed at the station for the third time. I hope to have a positive lead or an arrest later today. In the meantime, we again ask members of the public to report any information they have about the movements of Nadia Armstrong last week and during the six months she lived in Kingston with her young child.”

  A reporter raised his hand and Ellington pointed at him.

  “Is this person of interest a suspect for her murder?”

  “I can’t comment on that at this time. However, I ca
n say that the team has been working diligently to make certain that Nadia Armstrong’s death is solved. We have several leads and have been following up on each and every one. However, gaps remain in our knowledge about Nadia’s wherabouts the day she died so I encourage anyone with information to step forward.”

  Marci stood up. “Mr. Mortimer, did Nadia Armstrong have any connection to Mortimer Construction? After all, her body was found on your new hotel site.”

  Mortimer took his time getting to the mic and when he spoke, Rouleau detected controlled anger in his voice. “Nadia Armstrong was not acquainted with me or my firm. I regret that she died on my construction site but there is absolutely no link to us or to our project. I send her family my condolences for their tragic loss.” He stepped back and said something to Clement before the mayor again took the mic.

  “We’ll adjourn while the staff sets up the casino site plans. Thank you again for your patience.”

  Everyone stood at once and began milling about, voices raised in an indecipherable din. Rouleau found Marci on her phone at the back of the room. She ended her call when she saw him.

  “Well, that was a bombshell,” she said.

  “I’m guessing you mean the casino announcement, not the update on our investigation.”

  “Did you know that there’s a Facebook page with over four thousand followers dedicated to stopping construction of a casino at the downtown waterfront?” Marci tucked her head closer to his. “The fallout from this announcement could be nasty for Mayor Clement and his council. The election is this November.”

  “The project will be well underway by then.”

  “I’d like to see how the contracting was handled. The casino was tendered without the media knowing. Mortimer has won several large projects of late. Makes one wonder.”

  “Your question to Mortimer about Nadia Armstrong came out of nowhere.”

  Marci shrugged. “I was trying to shake him up. By the pissed-off look on his face, I’d say I struck a nerve.”

  “No businessman likes to be tied to a possible murder.”

  “From what I hear, Harold Mortimer wields his power like an autocrat. His third wife is an ex-model who lounges around pools with a big martini problem. Sucks to be her.”

  “You seem to know a lot about his personal life for someone who handles the crime beat.”

  “My fashion and lifestyle colleague Rick keeps me informed of the gossip, whether I want to hear it or not.” Her fingers touched the back of his hand. “This casino announcement came out of the blue, though. I called my editor and he’s asked me to follow up. I was hoping to see you tonight but it looks like I’ll be working late.”

  “Makes two of us.”

  “Oh yes, the person of interest. Anyone I know?”

  “No comment. I promise we’ll catch up when this investigation is over.”

  “That’s a promise I look forward to cashing in. See you later, Rouleau.”

  He watched her stride confidently over to the crowd of people surrounding Mayor Clement and manoeuvre herself close to him. She was tenacious. He didn’t envy Clement. He’d need to dig deep into his political savvy and media lines to keep her at bay. A tap on his shoulder made Rouleau turn.

  “So nice to see you again, Staff Sergeant.” Sally Clement extended her hand and shook his firmly. She wore a silk dress in a pale shade of blue, and her subtly applied eyeshadow matched it exactly. The blond streaks in her shoulder-length hair accented rather than masked the grey. Rouleau had chatted with her at other events and liked her open gaze and easy laugh.

  “Nice to see you too, Sally. Quite a big announcement from Tom.”

  “Wasn’t it? He wanted me here to show support from the business community. I believe a casino will be good for tourism and lucrative for all our shops and restaurants. Tom will have to convince the majority of citizens before the election, though.” She looked across the room and dropped her voice to a teasing, intimate tone. “Don’t look now, but he’s coming toward us.”

  Mayor Clement shook Rouleau’s hand and put an arm around his wife’s waist. “Were you in time to hear Harold’s announcement?” he asked her.

  “I rushed in as you were introducing him.”

  “I think it went well.”

  “It went very well. And it’s so nice to see Willy back in town. We must have him over for dinner.”

  Rouleau looked around the room until he found Ellington deep in discussion with one of the city councillors. He looked back at the Clements. “It was good to see you both, but I have to head back to the office.”

  “Don’t be a stranger,” Sally said. “I have a fundraiser for the Heart and Stroke Foundation coming up next month. Perhaps you can come by. I’ll send the information.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  By the time Rouleau reached Ellington, he was alone. He spoke quietly to Rouleau so that nobody could overhear. “The Armstrong case will now take a back page to the casino — especially when the media gets wind of the fact that the girl was a sex worker. At least I’ve made one final attempt to get public input.”

  “Hopefully, someone will come forward.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath but one can hope.” Ellington waved at someone across the room and raised a finger to let them know he’d be right over. “Take the car back to the station. I’m having lunch with Tom after we wrap up here.”

  “I didn’t realize you and the mayor were friends.”

  “Tom and I grew up playing in the same sandbox. In fact, I’m godfather to their second-born. Keep me in the loop if anything develops on the case.”

  So, no opportunity to raise the subject of Vera on the ride back to HQ. Rouleau had heard that she’d already accepted a job at the university and knew that she wouldn’t appreciate his interference now that her mind was made up. Regardless, he’d raise the matter with Ellington at the first opportunity. He should be made aware of what an unprofessional asshole he’d been. He should know that Rouleau was going to report him to the police board.

  Tanya Morrison was getting ready to leave early for the day when Fred Taylor approached her desk. “Where is everybody?” he asked.

  She paused with one arm partly inside the sleeve of her jacket. “Rouleau’s at City Hall, Stonechild is off talking to somebody about the case, and I have no idea where the others are.”

  “Then could you speak with a woman at the front desk? She called at four this morning to report that her daughter didn’t come home last night and she wants us to track down the boyfriend. I guess she figures coming here in person will speed things up.”

  Tanya sighed. “I was off to pick up my kids for a wild night of pizza and Netflix but I suppose they can wait a while longer. Let me call my husband and I’ll be right out.”

  “You’re the best, Morrison. I don’t care what anybody else says.”

  “Should I be taking offence?”

  He smiled and disappeared out the door.

  Tanya called Allen and left a message. What if he didn’t check his phone? She hesitated before calling Sara’s cellphone. After two tries, she got through. “What’s that noise?”

  “Daddy’s vacuuming.”

  “Can you put him on the phone for a minute, please?”

  “Are you getting us soon? Shandra’s coming over and I don’t like her.”

  “In a while. Put your father on.” She waited, drumming her fingers on the desk. “Who’s Shandra?” she asked when he picked up.

  “My house cleaner.”

  “You’re vacuuming for the house cleaner? Oh, never mind. I’m going to be later than I said. Can you keep the kids another half hour?”

  “Sure. I’ll put them to work.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  She hung up and stood still, looking at the phone. How in the hell had she let her life fall into this sad state? If it weren’t for her job, she’d be completely depressed. She finished putting on her jacket and headed to the front desk. Taylor handed her a folder with the
case details before she turned and scanned the lobby. Daria Jefferson was sitting in the waiting area and Tanya had a chance to look her over as she approached. Late forties, bleached-blond hair down to her shoulders, face aging prematurely from sun exposure. No wedding ring. She looked brittle and angry, as if she were barely keeping her rage in check. Tanya could have been looking in the mirror.

  “I understand your daughter Vanessa didn’t come home yesterday evening, Mrs. Jefferson,” Tanya said after introducing herself. She sat down next to the woman. Good thing they were alone in the waiting area or she would have had to find a meeting room. She wasn’t willing to waste any more time relocating them. “Can you tell me about her boyfriend?”

  “Please call me Daria. No, I can’t tell you anything about him.” Daria gave a laugh that came out half-strangled. “I only just learned that she was dating him the day before she went missing. I grounded her and I suppose she defied me by running off with him when I thought she was in her room doing homework. My daughter is only fifteen, Officer. She turns sixteen in December. This boy, or should I say man, is in his twenties.”

  Tanya made notes in the file as Mrs. Jefferson talked. She looked up. “He could be charged under the Criminal Code if the relationship is sexual. She’s under sixteen and he’s more than two years older than her.”

  “She wouldn’t tell me whether they were having sex. She wouldn’t even tell me his full name. All I got was his first name: Leo. I finally convinced her father to come over yesterday afternoon for the ‘big talk’” — she made quotation marks in the air — “with his daughter. He was supposed to drop by after supper. I was hoping she’d spill her guts to him. She’s rebelling against me because Mick and I are in the midst of a divorce and she blames me, even though he’s the one who was getting it on with his colleague and doesn’t want Vanessa living with him. Go figure.”

  And I thought I had it bad. “So you don’t know the boyfriend’s full name or what he looks like, is this correct?”