No Trace
No Trace
Brenda Chapman
Copyright © 2016 Brenda Chapman
First published in 2016 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
No trace / Brenda Chapman.
(Anna Sweet)
ISBN 978–1–77153–008–8 (paperback)
I. Title. II. Series.
PS8605.H36N6 2016 C813’.6 C2016–902586–1
Printed and bound in Canada.
For Ted
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
Dad pulled me out of a deep sleep Sunday morning with the smell of frying bacon and dark roasted coffee. I rolled over in my single bed and moaned. My head felt as if a lawn mower was plowing its way through my brain.
I’d put in a late night working on a case. An insurance company had hired me to find out if a city bus driver’s bad back claim was true. I’d followed the man to Montreal, where he helped his daughter move out of her apartment. The bus driver spent the next six hours drinking in a bar down the street. After a few beers, he’d shown some fancy moves on the dance floor. Just in case the photos of him dragging a sofa down two flights of stairs weren’t enough.
When the bus driver finally stumbled to his hotel, I made the two and a half hour drive home to my bed in Ottawa, arriving just after five a.m.
“You up, Anna?” Dad yelled from the kitchen. He banged a pot on the stove. “Thought you might like some breakfast.”
I moaned again and rolled onto my side, slowly opening one eye to look at the clock. Eight thirty. That meant I’d been in bed exactly three and a half hours. I shut my eye again. I tried to focus on breathing in and out. Dad was working through his worries about my sister Cheri and her marriage problems by cooking day and night. My stomach could hardly take any more new recipes. My head needed more sleep.
‘I’ll be right there!” I called. I put the pillow over my head. “Just five more minutes,” I mumbled.
I’d nicely drifted off when my cellphone rang on the dresser.
“Nooooo,” I groaned. What had I done to make the world turn against me?
After closing my eyes for a moment, I tossed the pillow onto the floor and pushed myself out of bed. I grabbed the phone and hit receive before it went to voice mail. I almost dropped the phone from the shock of hearing Detective Johnny Shaw’s voice growl into my ear.
“That you, Sweet?”
“Maybe.” After a pause, I said, “I’m surprised you’re working on a Sunday.” I had no idea what he wanted but knew it had to be something important.
“Not as surprised as I am.” He sighed loudly. “Wonder if you could come by the station this morning. There’s somebody who needs your help.”
The smell of sizzling bacon was making my mouth water. I could hear Dad beating eggs in a bowl. “I can be there in an hour,” I said. “I have some, uh, business to take care of first.”
Shaw gave another drawn-out sigh. “I can wait. Even though my kids and I are supposed to be on the ski hill, enjoying the day.”
I said with fake sympathy, “I’m sorry, but sometimes we all have to take one for the team. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hung up and grabbed my housecoat. Shaw really was a piece of work. I knew for a fact that he didn’t have any kids. And the picture of his bear-sized body shooting gracefully down a ski hill was enough to make me laugh out loud.
Plus, the ski hills weren’t open for the season yet.
I needed time to fully wake up. I’d have a quick shower and try to clear my head before making my way to the kitchen. Whatever Shaw wanted could wait for me to have a couple of cups of coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs—even if his call made me as curious as a cat in a room full of mouse holes.
. . .
I smelled snow in the late-November morning. The leaves had fallen from the trees weeks before and lay soggy and brown on the lawn. For once, I was looking forward to winter. Snow would be better than the damp, chilly days we’d had all month. For weeks on end the sun had been hiding behind low grey clouds, and people were as depressed as I’d ever seen them.
Shaw was waiting for me in his office at the Elgin Street police station, but he wasn’t alone. My brother-in-law, Jimmy Wilson, was leaning against the wall drinking a cup of coffee. He was wearing jeans and a soft brown leather jacket and had the beginnings of a beard that hinted of the rugged outdoors. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him looking so relaxed. Cheri told me that he’d been going to the gym, and he appeared to have lost weight and toned up.
A middle-aged man and woman were seated in two visitor chairs, and there was an empty one next to the woman. As I stepped past them, I noticed the beautiful jade-coloured silk scarf tied loosely around the woman’s neck. Her eyes were large behind bright, blue-framed glasses, and she wore a black beret tilted to one side of her head, covering greying curls. Her husband sat taller next to her, a watchful man with a bald head and long face that reminded me of a hound dog. She’d shredded a tissue in her lap and white bits covered her coat like flakes of dandruff. I nodded at them before sitting down.
Shaw’s pale blue eyes met mine. He cleared his throat. “Anna Sweet, meet Vanda and Chuck Green. Their son has been missing six months. I think it is time to get a PI involved. The Greens have agreed to hire you.”
Shaw closed his mouth as if this was all that needed saying. The Greens and I stared at each other. Vanda’s eyes filled with tears. Chuck looked down at his hands. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pen and a notebook. “What can you tell me about your son?” I asked.
Vanda looked at Chuck and he held her eyes for a moment. Some silent struggle appeared to be going on between them. Finally, Chuck turned sideways and looked at me.
“Ryan is seventeen and in grade twelve . . . well, he would be if he wasn’t missing. He was a student at Brookfield High School and planned to become a carpenter. Not sure what else you want to know, exactly.”
“Do you have other children, Mr. Green?”
“We have another son. Travis is sixteen and also goes to Brookfield. We live in Ottawa South, not far from the canal.”
“We’ve been frantic,” Vanda said, loud enough to signal that she was close to losing control. “Just frantic. Ryan would never disappear without letting us know where he was going. I need to know where he is, even if the worst has happened to him.” Her voice was rising to a dangerous level. “I need to know if he’s dead or alive!”
Her words rang like a big dose of panic in our ears. Shaw leaned forward in his chair. He rubbed his forehead and spoke before the silence stretched too long. “I have a full file for you to read, Sweet. Why don’t you go through it and get an idea what’s been going on. Officer Wilson is here to help bring you up to speed. I’m sure Chuck and Vanda will be eager to speak with you afterward.”
I nodded and said to t
he Greens, “I’ll put everything else aside to work on finding your son.” I was doing my part to help Shaw head off Vanda’s total breakdown.
Jimmy gave me a half-smile that I ignored. We hadn’t spoken since he and Cheri took a break from their marriage. I knew he was living in a bachelor apartment down the road in Westboro, a popular Ottawa neighbourhood near my PI office. My sister and their seven-year-old son Evan were renting a town house near my dad’s place in Alta Vista. I added, “I’ll let you know if I have any questions, Officer Wilson.”
“I’m here for you, Sweet.” Again, with the sleepy half-smile. The way Jimmy looked at me let me know that he wanted to start back up with me. He couldn’t seem to grasp that dumping me to marry my sister had been a deal breaker.
I stood up and shook the Greens’ hands before picking up their son’s file from the desk. “I’ll be in touch within a day or two,” I said.
“We really hope you can help us,” Vanda said. Her bottom lip trembled but she kept her voice level. “All we want is for Ryan to come home. Even if he did something wrong and ran away, we forgive him. If you find him, make sure you tell him that.”
CHAPTER TWO
I drove to the office I shared with Jada Price on Wellington Street, in a section of the city named Hintonburg. We’d set up our PI business above a pizza restaurant. The owner, Gino Roma, waved me inside when he saw me walking past.
The familiar spicy mix of tomato sauce, garlic and oregano filled my senses when I stepped through the door. Gino wiped his hands on his apron as he came toward me for a hug. “How’s our girl?” he asked, his smile as wide as a slice of one of his pizzas.
“Good, Gino. I’m good.” I held up the file folder. “I have a new police case to help investigate. Never a dull moment.”
He stepped back and looked me over. His black eyes saw something that worried him. Like Dad, his answer to any problem was forcing food on me. “I just this minute made a pepperoni and double cheese pizza. I’ll put it into a box for you to take upstairs. You look tired. You need to eat.”
“Thanks, Gino.”
He went behind the counter and picked up a piece of cardboard, which he expertly formed into a box. Then he reached into the wood-burning oven and took out a pizza, glancing at me as he boxed it up and set it on the counter. “So, any word from my Nicky?”
“Not for a week. He’s busy filming.” I’d recently started dating Nick Roma, who was also our office assistant at Storm Investigations. That is, when he wasn’t being a movie star.
“Shouldn’t be too busy to call his girlfriend . . . or his family.”
“He’ll be in touch when he has time.” I picked up the pizza box. “I’ll see you later, Gino.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll let you know if I hear from him. Don’t work too hard, Anna.”
I left the restaurant and climbed the steps to our office. Jada was on vacation in Bermuda and not due back for another week. She’d said that she had to escape our rainy November weather or she’d go out of her mind. With Jada away and Nick in Vancouver filming a movie, I had the office and the pizza all to myself. I was surprised how much I missed the two of them.
I brewed a pot of coffee in our machine then sat at my desk and started in on the pizza. I opened the file and began reading as I ate.
Ryan Green was last seen leaving his school after English class on May 30. That morning he told his mother he was staying late for soccer practice. But his coach got sick and practice was cancelled. Ryan’s grades were average and school staff said that he was more interested in sports than academics. He also had a part-time job at an auto dealership, working behind the counter. He’d started dating a girl from another school but no one had met her yet. Everybody liked Ryan and said he was easy-going and friendly.
His best friend, Ben Draper, said that Ryan wasn’t into drugs, although they drank beer now and then. They liked to party, but no more than other kids their age. He had no idea what could have happened to his friend. Ben was the last person to see Ryan the day he went missing.
Vanda and Chuck had also been interviewed, separately and together. Ryan’s mom was frantic from the start. She said that something terrible must have happened to keep her son from calling home. Chuck was worried as well, but thought Ryan could look after himself if he had to. But he was less and less certain as the days passed. Neither had any idea where Ryan could have gone.
Ryan’s sixteen-year-old brother, Travis, said that he had no idea where Ryan could be. He and Ryan were close but he hadn’t known about the new girlfriend. He wasn’t sure she even existed. Nothing had been bothering Ryan that he knew about.
I picked up Ryan’s photo, which was paper clipped to the back of the folder. He was a good-looking boy, with a sweet smile and sky blue eyes. He wore his black hair longer on top than on the sides. His profile said that he was five foot ten, 155 pounds.
“Where are you, Ryan Green?” I asked, staring into his eyes and hoping for an answer.
Sighing, I picked up my empty coffee cup and thought about one last refill. My cellphone rang at that moment and I set the cup back down. I’d probably had enough caffeine anyway. Jimmy’s number popped up.
“Want to meet up, Sweet? I have an hour free.”
I glanced at my watch. Three o’clock and not much time left in the day to start interviews. People would soon be sitting down to Sunday dinner. I still had a pile of reading to do about the day Ryan went missing, but Jimmy could fill me in a lot faster. “Sure. How about we meet at Whispers Pub in twenty minutes?”
“I’ll be there.”
. . .
Jimmy was sitting at a table for two by the window when I arrived. He’d ordered two pints of beer and he tilted his glass in my direction after I sat down.
“You’ve been given an impossible file,” he said. “Ryan Green disappeared without a trace.”
“Someone has to know something.”
“You’d think.” Jimmy pulled a notepad from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “But I couldn’t find anybody who saw him that afternoon after he left school.”
“Nobody?”
“Nobody. He left soon after finding out soccer practice was cancelled.” Jimmy checked his notes. “At three twenty, he met up with his buddy Ben Draper at their lockers. They walked out the front door together but parted ways on the sidewalk. Ryan never made it home. He vanished into thin air.”
“Ryan didn’t have a car?”
“He sometimes drove his mom’s car but he was on foot that day.”
“What about his mystery girlfriend? Did he tell anyone her name?”
“No, but his brother Travis said that wasn’t unusual. Ryan dated a lot of different girls but rarely brought them home. I checked out every name the family came up with. None of the girls saw him that day outside of school.”
“It sounds like he didn’t care about their feelings much. A bit of a rat, if you ask me.”
“More like young and hard to pin down. Everyone said that Ryan lived moment to moment. He was often late and forgetful because he’d get caught up in what he was doing. Everyone knew he wasn’t completely dependable, but nobody held it against him. All in all, he was a popular kid.”
“Did these girls know about each other?” I admit that I was having trouble letting the multiple girlfriend angle go.
“They did, but they all said that they weren’t in serious relationships. They were all unaware he was seeing someone new, though.”
“Now, that seems a bit odd to me.”
“She must have meant something to Ryan if he wanted to keep her to himself.” Jimmy stared at me until I looked away.
Why was I having so much trouble feeling nothing for this man? He’d left me for my sister, after all. My voice came out grumpy. “So you have no suspects or leads?”
“Nope. Nada. Ryan didn’t make any calls on his cellphone after he left school that day. I’d say the phone was destroyed, because the signal couldn’t be found to trace it. Needle
ss to say, we never found a body.”
“This is one strange case.”
Jimmy gave me a sideways grin. “Very strange. I hope you can find something we missed, but I’m not holding my breath, Sweet.”
“That makes two of us, Officer Wilson.”
CHAPTER THREE
I drove through the darkened streets toward Dad’s place. I’d thought about going back to the office but didn’t feel like being alone. I longed to see Nick’s face and feel his arms around me. I needed him more than I would ever let on. Why didn’t he call?
I smelled roast beef and gravy when I stepped inside the back door. Dad was stirring something in a pot on the stove and singing along to the radio. He didn’t see me come into the kitchen and I watched him for a moment from the doorway. His eyes were closed and he was swaying in time to the song.
“Hey, Dad,” I said softly so as not to startle him. “Smells good in here.”
He opened his eyes and for a moment, he seemed to be reliving something in the past. It took him a few seconds to come back to the present. He raised the spoon out of the pot and pointed it in my direction. “You’re late. Cheri and Evan should be here any minute. I need you to set the table.” His voice was gruff but his eyes still shone with whatever good memory my entrance had interrupted.
I turned to hang up my coat and to give Dad some time. Then I started to take out knives and forks and plates to set the table. “Is Betty joining us tonight?” I asked. Dad had met Betty at a dance studio in September and they’d been seeing each other ever since.
“No. She’s busy. Just the four of us.”
“That’s too bad.”
I wasn’t sure that I was up for an evening with my sister. But I kept quiet. Cheri and Evan arrived a few minutes later, and Dad had us sitting around the table as soon as they had their coats off. He served up homemade rolls to go with the roast, mashed potatoes, homemade brown beans, and coleslaw. Dessert was a lemon sponge cake with raspberries and whipped cream. After the last bite of cake, I set down my fork and undid the top button on my jeans. I promised myself that I’d set the alarm to get up early for a run.
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