Rooted in Lies

by Kasia Chojecki

  © Kasia Chojecki

  This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Imprint: Independently published

  Cover Image by Kasia Chojecki

  To: Maciej (Matt) Chojecki

  You’ll always be my favourite brother.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  About author

  Chapter 1

  How do you disappear without a trace?

  No clues left behind. No evidence. Nothing. One day you're going on about your business; the next, you've vanished into thin air. Poof and you're gone.

  Maybe, Ava Reed thought, the better question was why. There were three fundamental reasons someone vanished. You either disappeared because you wanted to, something happened, and you forgot who you were, or someone made damned sure you were gone forever.

  She glanced at the framed picture on her desk. A young woman holding a small girl in her arms stared back at her. Sharon Novak. Brilliant student. Accused embezzler and criminal mastermind. Her mother.

  Which one was it for you, Sharon?

  Ava stared at the photo just like she has done so many times over the years. Sharon's dark hair, much like her own, fell over her shoulder, curling slightly at the ends. She had one of those thousand-watt smiles and a twinkle in her blue eyes. Little Ava sat on her lap, smiling shyly at the camera, her little hand curled around the pendant on her mother's necklace. Yet, the woman holding her was a stranger.

  She touched the pendant, now hanging around her neck. The emerald-cut tourmaline stone was set in gold with four-split prongs on top and bottom. It was suspended from a gold chain with a delicately ornate loop. The gem always reminded her of aged whiskey. Sharon inherited it from her grandmother, and now Ava wore it around her neck. It was the most tangible link to her mother she still had.

  Driven by her own need to find Sharon, Ava dedicated her life to working with missing person organizations and groups across Canada and the United States. She knew the grief, the pain and hope those left behind carried with them. Few ever got their answers, and for those that did, those answers weren't always the ones they hoped for. But at least they got closure. It was more than she ever did.

  Several years ago, she set up a website in hopes of finding her mother. Every now and then, she received messages from random strangers claiming to have spotted Sharon. According to some of them, she was living in South America. Others claim to have seen her in Asia or somewhere in the Australian Outback. She was either living large on a yacht in the Mediterranean or had given up her worldly possessions for a simple life in a Tibetan monastery. So far, none of the sightings turned up anything useful.

  Ava closed her eyes and let go of the pendant. She pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. The brewing headache meant that she had spent way too much time staring at her computer screen. It's been a long few days.

  She stared absently out the window. The sun was setting over the Halifax harbour, her temporary home. A few months ago, she came to Nova Scotia to work on a few cases for her podcast, The Missing Voices. She ended up staying longer as more cases caught her attention. With thousands of people going missing each year in Canada, they all piled up, especially when the leads dried up. Most cops, despite their best efforts, moved on to new cases while the family members continued to search for answers. That's where she came in.

  The podcast became Ava's obsession and her mission in life. It was a way for her to help others look for their loved ones. To give the missing a voice. It was an outlet for her own painful loss, and it gave her a focus. Selfishly, she hoped that one day it would help her get her own answers.

  An incoming video call snapped her back to reality. She accepted the call from her new producer, Lori and smiled. Lori was assigned to her by Odyssey, the communication network that brought her podcast into their fold. So far, she was worth her weight in gold.

  "Lori!" she said. "How goes it?"

  Lori's dark and clever eyes narrowed as she took a closer look at the screen and adjusted her oversized glasses. "Have you been working yourself to death again? You look like crap, Ava."

  "Well, hello to you too."

  "Seriously, have you given some thought to finally hiring an assistant?" Lori's gaze was unshakeable. She then took her glasses off, which signalled she meant business. Ava often suspected Lori wore them to project that sexy librarian look, not because she really needed them. "You're not doing it all by yourself anymore. You have a budget. Use it."

  "Yeah, yeah," Ava ran her hand through her messy mop of hair. Lori, who always seemed so put together, always made her feel like a hot mess. But while she could've passed as Naomi Campbell's little sister, Lori didn't have a mean bone in her body.

  "I told you I'll think about it," Ava rolled her eyes. "I don't have time to train some newbie who gets squeamish about death."

  "Get one that doesn't," Lori offered. "There are plenty of people out there who are not afraid of death and murder and don't mind working around it."

  "Yeah, they're called serial killers."

  Lori gave her a pained look. "I meant like cops, private investigators and such. I'm sure you can find someone who used to be one or maybe wants to become one."

  "I really don't think either demographic would be my first choice."

  "What exactly is your first choice then? Give me what you are looking for, and I will find you some candidates."

  Ava thought about the offer. All she ever wanted to do was tell stories. Until Lori and the Odyssey team came along, she was doing everything herself. The research, the notes, reaching out to contacts and setting up interviews. Then she had to do the recording and editing.

  Now she handed off the behind-the-scenes work to Lori and her team. They were highly organized and made Ava's job a lot easier. There was no way she could handle it all herself anymore. Lori was a fantastic resource and a huge asset, but she wasn't there to help Ava with day-to-day things. Maybe that assistant wasn't that bad of an idea after all.

  "Okay, fine," she said. "I need someone who can think on their feet, can follow directions, but at the same time, I want them to have initiative. I don't want a pushover, and I don't want to be told what to do either."

  "That's simple enough," Lori said as she scribbled down Ava's requirements. "Leave it with me. If you think of anything else, send it to me. Meanwhile, I'll get you some candidates to interview."

  "Great, now can we talk about the new season?"

  "Absolutely. I got all the files you sent over. I'll get the production team rolling. We'll put on some finishing touches and release it shortly. Based on what I've seen so far, I think we got another great one on our hands."

  Ava smiled. She worked her butt off in the last few
months and felt good about the work. The stories of the missing always drew her in. Figuring out the why's and how's was what she thrived on. Especially when those missing turned up dead.

  They talked shop for a few more minutes about the upcoming schedule. Ava was tasked with spreading the word, research and the actual storytelling. Hyping up the podcast on other shows and online true crime communities was something she enjoyed more than the production. However, it was probably a good time to take some time off before jumping on the cases for the next season.

  After the call, Ava briefly checked her email. She responded to urgent messages and skimmed the rest. They could wait till tomorrow. She looked at her face in the mirror. The dark bags under her eyes were the size of craters. Perhaps Lori was right. She needed some sleep. Resigned, Ava headed to bed and slept like the dead.

  ***

  After working non-stop for months, it always felt strange to wake up and have nothing to do. Ava stretched a bit longer than usual and stared at the ceiling, debating whether she should just stay in bed all day. Tempting as it was, she really needed to get up.

  She finally made it out of bed and went straight for the shower. Over breakfast, Ava checked her messages, answered emails and touched base with Lori one more time. As much as she wanted to dive into more work, it was probably better to go outside and get some fresh air. It was a gorgeous day, and it would be a shame to waste it.

  Ava threw a gray hoodie over a black tank top and matching tights. She tied her hair in a messy bun and put on her headphones. She selected the appropriate playlist, hit play and set the phone in her armband. She loved running. It was a great way to clear her head. Running also got her heartbeat up, making her feel alive.

  It didn't take long to reach the boardwalk. The Halifax waterfront was always an exciting place to hang out and people watch. Slightly out of breath and drenched in sweat, Ava stopped to stretch out by one of the empty benches.

  It was a busy day downtown, and the boardwalk was filled with people strolling along. Locals and tourists alike spilled in and out of the local bars, shops and restaurants. Couples, families, friends, strangers. Some rode their bikes while others sat around people watching. Every one of them living blissfully in the moment.

  Ava grabbed a bottle of water from one of the food stalls and decided to cool down before heading back home to change. She joined the crowds walking along the boardwalk and soaked up the sunshine. The harbour was filled with boats of all sizes as they glided across the water. Ferries and cruise boats, packed with tourists snapping pictures from the water and getting splashed in the process, made rounds in the harbour. It was another summer day in the city.

  Ava made her way past the playgrounds, stalls and attractions, planning on turning around at the large parking lot near the water. She paused when she noticed a small crowd of onlookers gathering nearby. Curious, Ava decided to investigate what's going on instead of heading back. She was, after all, as intrigued as the others.

  "I bet you it's another car," she heard an older woman in a blue tracksuit and white running shoes say to her companion. She was short and plump with short grayish hair and way too much makeup. She wore a white visor and a fanny pack where she undoubtedly stored her lipstick and keys.

  "You think so?" her friend replied with an unmistakable glee in her voice. She, too, had on a similar outfit as her friend, although less rosy cheeks. Hers was pink, and instead of a fanny pack, she had a small purse draped over her shoulder. Ava doubted either one of them actually did any working out. "I wonder if there is a dead body inside."

  "Mary," her companion scolded, but it was clear that she, too, hoped that was the case. Ava could almost see her rubbing her manicured hands together in anticipation.

  She moved closer to the two women as she tried to peer over the crowd. Being tall had its advantages. At five foot nine, she could easily see over the group gathered around the area police roped off with yellow tape. Several uniforms tried to keep the growing crowd at bay with various levels of success. From where she stood, Ava could see that there was definitely something in the water. Something large enough to require more than just a few uniforms to fish out.

  "What do you mean, another car?" Ava asked. "Sorry," she added when the woman turned toward her. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation."

  They both seized her up with knowing glances.

  "Well, it's not the first one. A few years back, they pulled another car out of the harbour." Mary said in a theatrical whisper and paused dramatically. "There was a dead body inside."

  Mary's companion nodded enthusiastically. "It was a man. He'd been in the water for some time by the time they found him. I'm sure the fish would have got to him if he wasn't in the car, "she added. "When was that they pulled him out again, Bonnie?"

  "It was early 2008, I think," Bonnie said. "Or was it 2009?"

  "Are you sure it wasn't 2007?" Mary wondered.

  "No, I'm pretty sure it was 2009."

  "How dreadful," Ava interrupted Bonnie and Mary's walk down the memory lane and made a mental note to check it out. "Did they ever find out who the man was?"

  Both Mary and Bonnie seemed to consider her question, trying to recall the details.

  "I'm pretty sure he wasn't from around here. Definitely out of province." Mary provided. "They ID'd him and all, but I can't remember the man's name."

  "That's right!" Bonnie was clearly enjoying rehashing the story of a dead guy who happened to meet his end in the icy waters. "He was from Ontario or maybe Quebec? Definitely not from Nova Scotia. So many people come here from all over, it's hard to keep track."

  The women continued to debate over the details of that day and which province the dead man came from. Ava excused herself and left them to it. She made her way closer to the water, trying to eavesdrop on what the cops said about the discovery, but didn't have much luck.

  Torn between curiosity and dismay, Ava debated whether she should stick around or head home. It was just like her to stumble upon a mystery. The darkness always seemed to follow her everywhere, even without trying. It was unavoidable, like an obsession. At least that was what her boyfriend, Tom, told her many years ago before he dumped her for a cheerful kindergarten teacher.

  According to Tom, death and murder were drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was always fixated on the stories of the missing and the forgotten. She cared more about them than the people in her life. So much so, he said, that she was incapable of forming healthy attachments with others.

  He wasn't all wrong. That's what happened when your mother walked out of your life when you were five. She didn't expect him to understand that. Then again, few ever did, and that's why she tended to avoid long-term relationships.

  She spent enough years in therapy to understand that Sharon's disappearance had nothing to do with anything she did or said. While the memories still stung a little, Ava decided that maybe she didn't need to try to solve every problem she came across. Like the possible car in the harbour. The cops could handle it. Body or no body, this had nothing to do with her.

  Ava decided to head back. The sudden rumbling in her stomach reminded her that it was time to eat. She weighed her options and opted for takeout. Later that evening, Ava watched the news as she packed. There was a short segment on the discovery in the lake. It turned out to be a car that the police thought was part of an illegal shipment heading overseas, which apparently wasn't that uncommon. Whether it was dumped accidentally or on purpose wasn't really her concern.

  The news anchor quickly referenced the car found in 2009 with human remains, which aligned with what Mary and Bonnie told her. Adult male in mid-forties from Ontario.

  Not a pleasant way to die, she thought as she made transportation arrangements for the following day. It was time to leave Halifax.

  ***

  It was construction season in Toronto. It went hand in hand with the hot and sticky days of summer in the city. That meant the humidity was already high, and it was bare
ly morning. In his trailer, Sam Ellis wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he set his safety helmet on the desk. As the construction site supervisor, he was responsible for all aspects of the Silver Clover project, from scheduling work and maintaining records to ensuring all work stayed on budget.

  He's been working in construction for what seemed like a lifetime. While his job required more and more computer work, he still loved every aspect of it. The Silver Clover was a high-profile development project with lots of money thrown at it and lots of political interest.

  Sam smiled. He hated politics, but he liked his job, and as long as the NorFast Group was willing to employ him, he'll keep working. He grabbed his cup and took a sip. The coffee was lukewarm, which suited him just fine.

  As far as construction projects went, this one was pretty much like every other project Sam has worked on. The southeast corner of Front and Cherry Streets would become another condo development, taking over the last vacant spots in the neighbourhood. Known as the West Don Lands, this was once home to heavy industry and warehouses. It eventually turned into a derelict area after the industry shut down. What a difference a few decades make.

  Looking at the shiny new condos, parks and shops, it was hard to imagine this area before the gentrification. Once a place filled with dirt, despair and the desperate who lived on the fringes of humanity, it was now an active part of Toronto's downtown where tourists and locals came in droves.

  Today, the nearby Distillery District only added to the artsy vibe of the area. What was once the biggest distillery in the British Empire had been transformed into a pedestrian-only neighbourhood with condos, shops, restaurants and one of the biggest Christmas markets in the city.

  Sam spent the morning dealing with progress reports, contractor schedules, and shipment verifications. He looked up at the sudden commotion outside. The door swung open, and Johnny Alves, one of the younger workers on the site, stood there nervously. His eyes were wide as saucers.