To Keep a Secret

by Brenda Chapman

  Derek met my gaze. “First, tell me what this is about.”

  Jimmy and I had agreed in the parking lot that it was my turn to lead. “We understand that you met a young lady recently through a website.”

  “That’s what I meant by I should have known.” He slapped the table with the palm of his hand. “So I met this girl through a dating site. She was legal dating age by the way. Even if she didn’t look it. Anyhow, she taped our conversation and her boyfriend filmed it. Then they blackmailed me. I know how these innocent meetings get twisted on the internet. It could have ruined my reputation. Maybe gotten me fired. I paid money to a charity so those lowlifes would leave me alone. The fact that you’re here means they lied.”

  “I see by the ring on your finger that you’re married,” I said. I let the irony speak for itself.

  Lee’s face twisted into a sideways smile. “So my wife says to me last year, ‘Let’s have an open marriage. You date who you want and so will I.’ Sounds like every man’s dream, right? Not mine. It took me the entire year to set up that coffee date. I should have known better.”

  “Where were you last night?” I asked.

  “I had dinner with my wife. Then I came back here for a school play. I teach drama.”

  “People can swear to that?”

  “We had a full house. It wrapped up around ten, and then I went home. My wife can swear to that, too. Why do you ask?”

  “Because somebody tried to run over the boy who filmed your date.” I paused. “And the girl you met was found murdered in a dumpster.”

  Lee made a funny noise. His eyes met mine before his rolled up into the back of his head. Then he toppled backward off his chair in a dead faint.

  Jimmy and I leapt up and jumped past the table. We nearly bumped heads as we bent down to check on our fallen suspect.

  “I guess this means the news came as a shock,” I said, my fingers searching for Lee’s pulse. “Or this man’s one award-winning actor.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “It’s late for lunch and early for supper,” Dad said. He looked up from his hand of cards as Jimmy and I entered the kitchen.

  Evan sprung from his chair and ran into his dad’s arms. Jimmy gave him a long hug, then asked, “What are you doing at Grandpa’s in the middle of a school day?”

  “Tummy ache,” Dad answered for him. “Cheri knows that I picked Evan up from school before lunch.” Dad looked at us, as if daring either one of us to question Evan’s illness.

  “That’s too bad, little buddy,” Jimmy said. He put on the concerned father look. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Grandpa made me a special drink and now I feel goooood,” Evan said. He twirled back to his chair and picked up his cards. “Go fish, Grandpa.”

  “You know I haven’t asked for a card yet,” Dad said. “I can’t go fishing until you know what I’m after.”

  “Oh yeah,” Evan said.

  “What did you make the kid?” I asked. “A rum cocktail?”

  “It’s my own secret formula,” Dad said. “I used to make it for you and Cheri. Do you remember?”

  “Not really.”

  Dad usually had had no time for sick kids when we were little. He’d preferred daughters who carried on without complaint. Cheri and I were expected to put in a full school day even after we threw up. Perhaps his bout with cancer had softened him.

  “Well, parents always remember events differently than their children,” Dad said. “Any kings, Evan?”

  Evan bobbed up and down in his chair. “Go fish, Grandpa.”

  “Okay to heat up these ribs?” Jimmy asked from his position bent over the open fridge.

  “Go ahead,” Dad said. “Evan and I already ate our fill for lunch.”

  “Tummy ache, huh?” I said, putting my hand on Evan’s forehead. “Sounds more like a boys’ bonding afternoon.” I looked at Dad. We both knew Evan’s tummy ache was a sign of stress. Cheri used to get them, too.

  “I was really sick, Aunt Anna. Grandpa made me feel better.”

  Jimmy and I dug into the ribs and leftover coleslaw, washing the meal down with a beer. Jimmy’s cellphone rang as we were clearing up. He took the call in the living room.

  “I’ve got to go back to the station for the autopsy,” he said when he returned. “Shaw says the other suspects can wait until tomorrow. Anna, he wants you to see if you can get more details out of Henry.”

  “I could do that.” I wanted to check in on Jada and Henry anyhow.

  “We may as well take my car to visit the bus driver.” Jimmy held my eyes for a moment. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning.” He left before I could tell him not to bother.

  “What?” I asked Dad. He’d been watching me as if he was sizing up the situation. “Driving together, we’ll save on gas.”

  “Yeah,” Dad said. “That was my first thought, too.”

  “Any fives, Grandpa?” Evan asked.

  “You got me, kid,” Dad said. He slapped down the card and looked across at me. “History has a way of repeating itself, Anna. You’ve got to learn from it. Or next thing you know, it’ll rise up to bite you in the ass.”

  • • • • • • • • • •

  Jada’s car was parked close to the office at the Bluebell Motel. Three other cars were parked in front of the twelve units. I pulled up next to Jada’s car and made my way to unit number five. The curtains blocked my view of the inside. After knocking twice with no response, I began to get nervous. By the fourth knock, fear had set in. I leaned my ear against the door and listened. Nothing.

  Where are you, Jada?

  I circled around to the back of the motel. A narrow patch of grass fed into the thick woods. I looked into the darkest clump of trees. Something moved and I reached inside my jacket for my gun. I undid the holster and took a step forward. A rabbit hopped from behind a pine and scampered deeper into the bush. I let my breath out and tucked my gun back into place.

  No, not jumpy at all.

  I counted down the line of windows until I reached unit five. They were bathroom windows: high up squares. I jumped as high as I could but still couldn’t see inside. Now what?

  Back in front of the motel, I headed for the office. I checked the plate glass window as I walked past. A lone girl with bright purple hair stood behind the desk, head down. She was playing with her iPhone. The lobby was empty. I pushed the door open and walked over to the desk.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. She didn’t raise her eyes. Her thumbs kept clicking on the tiny keyboard.

  “I’ve locked myself out of my room. Unit five,” I said. “I can see the key card on the dresser from outside.”

  “No problem.” She put her phone down and grabbed another card from under the counter. She programmed the card and handed it to me. Before I turned to leave, her thumbs were already back working the iPhone.

  “Have a nice day,” she said, head down.

  So much for motel security. I scooted back to the room. After knocking again, I slipped the card into the reader and stepped into the room. The beds were made and there was no sign of anybody staying there. Jada and Henry were gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Before I had a chance to really panic, the girl from the office burst into the room behind me. She was panting from her sprint across the parking lot. “I forgot that room number five is empty,” she said. Her blue eyes clouded over. “You must have made a mistake.”

  “You’re right. I did.” We stepped outside. I pulled my PI card out of my pocket. “I’m actually protecting the woman and teenager who were here yesterday. Do you know where they went?”

  The girl’s shoulders relaxed. “A man came and they left with him.”

  “When was that?”

  “Just after lunch. They were in an awful hurry. The woman asked if it was okay to pick up her car tomorrow. I said sure, why not? It’s not like we’ve got many guests this week.”

  “Can you describe the man or his car?”

  “He was
really hot, even if he was too old for me. Dark longish hair, buff . . . Oh yeah, Italian. He drove a silver Passat. I know because my dad has one, but his is black.”

  Nick Roma, I am going to kill you. “Well, thanks, and here’s the room card back. Sorry to make you run all the way over here.”

  “No prob.” She put the card into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She glanced down and clicked on something. “I’ve been waiting for this text,” she said. “Have a nice day.”

  I watched her weave her way back to the office, head down, thumbs typing. Then I pulled out my own phone and hit Nick’s number on speed dial. He answered on the first ring.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I had to move our clients,” he said. I had no idea when we all decided to speak in code. But we were.

  “Any reason?”

  “There’s been an incident. I can meet you at the office to fill you in.”

  “I’m on my way. Meet you there in about twenty minutes.”

  • • • • • • • • • •

  It felt like years since I’d last been at our PI office on Wellington Street, in the heart of Hintonburg. Our section of the city was just west of Chinatown and Little Italy—Ottawa’s cultural and food havens. Storm Investigations took up two small rooms above a thrift shop and Gino Roma’s takeout pizza restaurant. Gino’s son Nick just happened to be our newly hired office manager.

  I made sure it was on record that I had nothing to do with his selection. I knew Gino had asked Jada to hire Nick. Hiring people for favours was never a good idea.

  I found Nick sitting at the desk with his feet up, his eyes closed, and a beer in his hand. The sight of him looking so at home made me stop for a second. He was wearing a light blue denim shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, faded jeans, and scuffed leather boots. At one time, I might have been attracted to his rugged good looks. Now, they made me want to replace him with an answering machine. Something had to be off about the guy. Why had he agreed to work for us, part time for crappy pay?

  I crossed to the fridge and took out a beer. I dropped into the seat across from Nick and he lowered his feet to the floor. He pulled ear buds out of his ears.

  “Oh hi, Anna. I was just relaxing for a minute. How’s the investigation going?”

  “Fine. Although it would have been nice to have a heads up that Jada and Henry were on the move.”

  Nick’s espresso black eyes took on that patient look that I was getting to know. “It was very sudden. Jada checked in with her neighbour Pam Rendell. Pam said that somebody had been in Jada’s apartment last night. They trashed the place. Pam thinks they were looking for something.”

  “Jada’s apartment was fine at eight o’clock last night.”

  “Pam said she went to bed at midnight so it must have happened in the early morning hours. Anyhow, Jada and Henry were spooked. They wanted to move to a new location.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “I own a property near the University of Ottawa. Nobody will find them there.”

  “A property?”

  “Yes. The woman renting it is away. She won’t mind.” He met my gaze. A thousand questions were running through my mind and he knew it. He looked down at his beer but not before I saw amusement in his eyes.

  Nick Roma was making me very grumpy. I decided to focus on the case. “So whoever’s after Henry and Mandy knows their personal information. They try to run down Henry in the morning, kill Mandy after school, and break into Henry’s apartment during the night. It fits with someone trying to find a blackmailer’s video.”

  “I hear that you’re tracking down the three men they blackmailed.”

  “Derek Lee, the teacher, seems in the clear. I need you to check his alibi though. He said he was at the school until ten and then home with his wife. We’ve yet to grill the bus driver and cop.” I had a bad feeling in my stomach. Sergeant Rudy Vine was starting to look like the best suspect for the murder. Life was about to get very difficult very quickly.

  “I’ll get on that tomorrow. Do you need to speak with Henry or Jada today?”

  “You have a phone number where they’re holed up?”

  “Happens that I do.” Nick took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number.

  I typed it into my phone. Then I took a last swig of beer and stood up. “Well, it’s been a long day,” I said. “Thanks for putting in some extra time. Be sure to add it to your hours when you bill us.”

  Nick nodded and a tiny smile came and went. The guy played his cards close to his chest, no doubt about it. When this was over, I was going to have to talk to Jada about our latest recruit. I needed to find out more about him, even if he was Gino’s son.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dad was reading in the living room when I got home. Evan’s shoes and backpack were in the hallway by the front door.

  “Cup of tea?” Dad asked. He pointed to a pot and two mugs sitting on the coffee table.

  “You must be a mind reader.” I poured us each a cup and took a seat in Mom’s old rocking chair. Dad had moved it from their bedroom to the living room after she died. He kept it near his leather recliner. “Evan staying over?” I asked.

  “Cheri had to work late. He’s good company.”

  “Cheri and Jimmy are working too much overtime. Evan’s days are mostly spent in school or daycare, or with a sitter.” I sipped my tea to keep from bringing up my concern for Evan. The kid deserved better than a life raised by strangers.

  Dad didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

  I had another sip of tea. I felt myself start to relax after the stress of the day. “What are you up to tomorrow, Dad?”

  “Heading to the cancer clinic in the afternoon. Doc is giving me the test results.”

  I looked over at him. “I could come with you.”

  “No. I want to digest whatever he tells me alone. I’ll let you know in good time.”

  “Okay, Dad.” I stood and stretched. “Well, it’s been a long day. Another long one coming up tomorrow.” I wanted to tell him to call me as soon as he got his results. Dad didn’t work that way. I had to give him the space he needed. I had to live with the cabbage in my stomach.

  I smiled at him. “Tell Evan we have a movie date coming up. Just as soon as I solve this case.”

  Dad picked up the book from his lap. He looked down at the page and said, “I already told him. He’s picked out two block busters and he’s counting the hours.”

  • • • • • • • • • •

  I called Henry at the number Nick had given me, from the comfort of my bed. I wanted to speak with him privately, so I was happy that he picked up and not Jada. It seemed like the best way to get him to tell me the truth.

  “It’s come to light that Mandy was doing drugs,” I said after the usual hello, how are you. “I need you to be honest with me, Henry.”

  There was silence at the other end, and I thought I’d lost him. When he finally started speaking, his voice was soft and low. “She smoked a bit but nothing heavy. She wasn’t an addict or anything.”

  “Okay. What about lately? Do you know what was bothering her?”

  “She got really angry a few weeks ago. When I asked her about it, she told me it was nothing. Right after, though, she said we should stop going after men on that site.”

  “Could she have blackmailed somebody without you knowing?”

  “I don’t know.” Henry let his breath out in a loud sigh. “I thought maybe somebody got to her. She acted tough, but I think she was scared.”

  “It looks like she had a right to be.”

  Henry gave a short, sharp laugh. His voice dropped even lower as he said, “Now I’m scared too. Just not sure who I should be scared of exactly.”

  “Where are those videos you made?”

  “I destroyed Derek Lee’s and Frank Campbell’s after they paid. I have Rudy Vine’s on my cellphone.”

  “Can you send the video file to
me?”

  “Sure. I installed new security on my phone in case it was hacked.”

  “What about the audio files?”

  “Mandy had those. I don’t know where she kept them.”

  I hung up. A moment later, the video arrived on my laptop. I opened it and leaned in to watch. There was no doubt that the wobbly picture was Sergeant Rudy Vine. He was sitting next to Mandy in a café. She’d sat so that Henry had a clear shot of both of their faces. Vine was doing most of the talking. He had his eyes on Mandy as if he couldn’t wait to get her alone. Once, he reached over and touched her face. His fingers trailed down her arm. I felt my insides squirm.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jimmy picked me up at quarter to eight the next morning. We grunted hello and I slumped into the seat and closed my eyes. I opened them again when Jimmy pulled into the Tim Hortons drive through. We got our order and Jimmy found a parking spot near the exit. We didn’t say another word until we’d eaten our bagels and gulped down half of our large coffees.

  “Cold today,” Jimmy said. “I hate this stinking time of year.”

  “You seem grumpier than usual,” I said, glancing sideways. “Get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

  “Might say that.” His black curls were flat on one side. Dark circles curved under his green eyes. He turned his head and looked out the window. “Actually, it was the couch.”

  “Oh.”

  Jimmy left the statement dangling, as if he wanted me to ask a question. Did that mean Cheri had booted him out of the bedroom? They’d had troubles before, but I thought those had ended. I didn’t want to hear anything about their married life. I didn’t want to know that he and Cheri were fighting. If I was five years old, I’d have poked my fingers in my ears and started humming. Instead, I looked out my side window and wished I’d driven my own car.

  • • • • • • • • • •

  Not all city bus drivers are made equal. However, Frank Campbell definitely would not have been their poster boy. He was closing in on retirement: a white fringe of hair circled the back of his head, and his beer belly made his leather jacket stick out like he was pregnant. His eyes were hidden behind aviator sunglasses. We knew it was his day off. We could see him through the window putting on his shoes when we knocked on the front door.