Rooted in Lies

by Kasia Chojecki

  "Would you like some coffee?" Nick asked him as he turned on the coffee maker, stifling a yawn. "Ava is still sleeping upstairs."

  "Sure, black is fine," Tyler said and sat down at the kitchen table as Nick pulled out two mugs and set them on the counter. "I heard what happened next door. Any updates?"

  "Stan's in a medically-induced coma," he said, then rubbed his eye and yawned. "Ava is devastated. She thinks, well we both do, that this tied in with the other incidents."

  "It does look connected," Tyler said. "We're working on the documents from the floppy disks, trying to find anything useful. Can you tell me what happened last night?"

  "Ava went out, some ladies' night deal. I was out with my cousin Steve," he explained. "His girlfriend Odessa was out with Ava. We went there to pick them up. They went home, and I brought Ava back here. We noticed that the door wasn't locked, and the porch light was off. Stan always leaves the light on the outside when Ava's out."

  "What did you do next?"

  "We walked in, and then she ran up the stairs before I could stop her. Anyway," Nick shook his head. "She found Stan upstairs. There was blood on the floor, and the upstairs was a mess. I called 911."

  "Did you notice damage anywhere else in the house or just the office?

  "Mostly in the office," he said and got up, grabbed the coffee carafe and poured the hot liquid into the mugs. "We did a quick walk-through with the officers, then went to the hospital."

  Nick drank his coffee as Tyler scribbled something in his notebook.

  "Did you notice anyone following you or Ava after the last incident?" Tyler asked. "Anyone suspicious hanging around? Paying more attention than usual?"

  "No, I don't think so. We've both been a bit paranoid lately, but we haven't noticed anything unusual."

  "You can tell her that the house should be released shortly," Tyler told him. "By the way, did you get the pictures developed?"

  "Sure did," Nick smiled for the first time. "I'll grab them for you. I don't know how much they will tell you, though."

  Tyler flipped through the photos, and Nick's words became clear. The pictures were of accounts and ledgers. He'd bet his ass that those were copies of the ones from the floppy disks.

  ***

  Ava woke up feeling like she'd been hit by a truck. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around the strange room. Everything from the night before came back in a flash, like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. The only minor difference was that she wasn't dreaming, and this was real life.

  She was in Nick's bed, wearing what looked like his shirt. She barely recalled getting back here and arguing with Nick about where she was going to sleep. She was relieved to wake up alone. Not that anything would have happened, but still.

  Feeling a little self-conscious, she looked around the room for her belongings. She needed a shower and a change of clothes. On the floor, she spotted her overnight bag. Feeling relieved, she grabbed it and looked inside. Her toiletries, extra clothes, and make-up were all there. She would have to thank whoever picked it up from Lori's hotel room and brought it over.

  She found a clean towel on the nightstand with a note from Nick letting her know it was for her to use. She grabbed the towel and her bag and ventured out of the room. Then made a beeline for the bathroom and winced when she saw herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her make-up smeared all over her face, and her eyes were puffy and red. Fittingly, she looked as bad as she felt.

  Nothing, a hot shower, fresh clothes, and a hairbrush couldn't fix. Twenty minutes later, Ava made her way down the stairs. She found Nick watching TV on the couch in a hoodie and sweatpants.

  Nick looked up and smiled when she walked into the room. Her face was flushed, her wet hair pulled back in a ponytail. Remembering how pale she looked at the hospital, Nick was glad to see some colour back on her face. She hooked her thumbs on the belt loops of her jeans and smiled.

  "Hi," she said, then pointed at the pillows and blanket. "Did you sleep on the couch?"

  "Yes," he told her. "Maybe it's stupid, but I thought that whoever broke in could try here next."

  "So, you slept here because you thought this was a better position to fight off a potential intruder?" she asked.

  "Well, yeah," he said like it was obvious. "We've had cars following us, trying to force us off the road. Someone slashed my tires. Set a bomb to scare you."

  "Okay, okay, I get it," Ava made her way to the oversized loveseat across from him. "Thank you for everything you did last night. I couldn't have done it without you."

  "You're welcome."

  "I bet you didn't expect so much action when you signed up to be my assistant," she smiled.

  "I think I need a raise," he said with a mocking frown. "Or at least some type of hazard pay. By the way, Detective Burnett stopped by."

  "Did you give him the pictures?"

  "Yes. He said you should be able to get back to the house soon."

  "Great, thank you," she looked around for her phone. "I have to make some calls."

  Nick went to make coffee to give her some space. She checked in with the hospital, listened to her messages, and updated Lori and Odessa. She checked her emails and finally called her parents.

  The call was surprisingly brief, and he could hear the frustration in her voice as she tried to explain what happened. Judging from the one-sided conversation he could listen to, she wasn't very good at convincing them that everything was under control.

  He walked over and handed her the cup with coffee. It was strong and sweet, just the way she liked it. Nick watched her close her eyes as she inhaled the steam before she took a sip.

  "My god, this is exactly what I needed," she said. "I hate to repeat myself but thank you. Again."

  "You're welcome," he sat down on the couch. "How did it go with your parents?"

  "It depends on how you look at it," she sighed. "They are insisting on flying down."

  "And that upsets you?"

  Ava opted to drink more coffee before she answered. She wasn't ready to face her father and Joan about their relationship.

  "Let's just say that I recently found out that my father hasn't been the most forthcoming with certain information," she said. "I'm not ready to deal with that right now."

  "Wanna talk about it?"

  "I'd rather not."

  "Your call," he got up, took her hand and pulled her up. "Let's get some food in you, and then we'll go to the hospital to check on Stan."

  "You really don't have to do that," she told him but followed him to the kitchen anyway. The rumbling in her stomach told her not to be a fool and eat something.

  "Yeah, yeah," he waved his hand dismissively. "Now, let's see what's here to eat."

  Chapter 13

  They stopped by the hospital. There was no change in Stan's condition. Disappointed, they went back to Nick's and worked over dinner.

  "It feels like we haven't made any real headway," Ava said as she looked over her notes. Fortunately, she had her laptop with her when she went over to Lori's hotel room, so it wasn't damaged during the break-in.

  "Someone seems to think that you have," Nick pointed out as he grabbed another slice of pizza. "The question is, what do they think you have?"

  It would appear that even twenty-five years later, Sharon's killer didn't want the world to know what she found. The fact that someone broke in and rummaged through Ava's office told her that it was still a threat to them.

  "I don't think they know what I have," she said thoughtfully. "They didn't know exactly what they were looking for, so they trashed everything. Think about it. Wouldn't it make more sense to break in, grab what you were looking for and leave without leaving any evidence of being there? Leaving a mess and attacking an old man is definitely going to raise flags."

  "Maybe that was the plan," Nick suggested. "Then Stan came upon the intruder, and they panicked. Hit him over the head and took off."

  "Very plausible," she agreed. "But, did they trash the o
ffice then attack Stan, or was it the other way around?"

  "Does it matter?"

  She thought about it for a moment. "In a way, yes. Trashing the office first means that someone is going to hear it. Why make so much mess and noise?"

  "Because you're frustrated that you can't find what you came for," Nick said as he followed her train of thought.

  "Exactly. Even if they attacked Stan first, they could have made it look like an accident. No mess in the office, no evidence of a break-in," she thought out loud. "They could have pushed him down the stairs, and nobody would have thought much about it. An old man fell down the stairs. A tragic accident."

  "That's cold," Nick said as he looked at her with curiosity. "Should I be worried about what you'd do to me if I piss you off?"

  "Haha," she rolled her eyes. "Aren't you a funny guy?"

  "Hey, I'm just trying to figure out what I've got myself into," he told her as he wiped his hands and logged onto his own laptop. "Let's go back to Sharon. Tell me about her. Not as your mother, but as the case."

  "All right," she agreed and opened her files. "Sharon got a degree in business, which she followed up with an MBA, with a specialty in finance. She liked numbers and, by all accounts, was a wiz with computers. She knew the financial ins and outs and how to manipulate numbers. The original investigation leaned heavily on this. The police used that as to why she stole the money."

  "But they never proved that she stole any money, nor did they find it," Nick continued. "Of course, maybe they had a reason not to look that hard into the case."

  "Frank Mitchell knew something he wasn't telling us. For a seasoned investigator, he did a piss poor job of the investigation. I've seen more detailed reporting from rookie cops," she said thoughtfully. "He interviewed Sharon's coworkers, who had surprisingly little to say about her. The story was pretty much the same for everyone – she was intelligent, ambitious, friendly and outgoing. Nobody noticed anything and had no idea what could have happened to her."

  "Convenient," Nick said. "But that's not how it works. People who work together often socialize with each other. We did when I worked in an office. That hasn't changed over the years. There must have been someone in that office with whom she went out for drinks or had coffee. She must have talked to someone about what she found."

  Ava checked her notes. Including Sharon and her boss, there were five people employed at Studio 416. There was also a board of directors, but they weren't fully involved in the day-to-day operations. Interestingly, the gallery closed after Adam Walker entered politics.

  "Someone has to know something," she said. "What happened to the other three people that worked there?"

  Nick pulled up the research he did into Sharon's coworkers.

  "Debbie Styles, the bookkeeper," Nick said as he pulled up her info. "She retired from the gallery after it closed. Nothing that raises any flags. But, lookie, lookie here."

  "What?"

  "Debbie Styles died in a car accident. About a year after Sharon disappeared," Nick said as his eyes scanned the text. "Lost control of her vehicle during a heavy storm and crashed head-on into a tree."

  "Interesting," Ava mused. "What about the rest of them?"

  Nick tapped on his computer as he pulled the data. All employees, except Adam Walker, were now dead due to various, seemingly unconnected reasons.

  "What are the odds?" she mused. "Studio 416 must have been a very unlucky place to work. We need to talk to Adam Walker."

  ***

  Adam Walker wasn't an easy man to find. Nick started looking into his whereabouts as soon as Ava hired him to be her assistant, but that proved to be quite a challenge. But he finally found him. Adam Walker was a resident in the Breezy Oaks retirement home, about an hour north of Toronto.

  As they couldn't just waltz in and ask to speak to him, they devised a plan.

  "Do you think this is going to work?" Nick asked as they drove up the tree-lined road.

  "It will get us inside," she said. "Which is the best option we have for now."

  Breezy Oaks was a sprawling estate with a large mansion that, according to the brochure, was built in the Edwardian Baroque revival Beaux-Arts style that was popular across Canada in the early twentieth century. It was designed for luxury, privacy and tranquillity. Today, it catered to those looking to place their loved ones in a secluded place with loads of privacy. Convenient if you wanted to hide from prying eyes.

  "Not a bad place to hide," Nick said as he parked the Jeep in the small parking lot. "I bet you it's pricey."

  "I think they present it as exclusive," she smiled as they got out of the car and made their way along the gavelled lot to the main building. "According to the website, this place was designed for entertaining. There is a conservatory, a great library and a bowling alley."

  "Kinda has that Gatsby-esque vibe to it," he said. "I bet they have these fancy rooms with painted ceilings and pools with fountains."

  "Wow, you've read the book?" she asked, surprised. "I didn't peg you as someone who would read Fitzgerald."

  "I didn't," he winked at her. "But I did see the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio."

  "Of course you did."

  Their guide, Emily Levitt, was Breezy Oaks' no-nonsense director of operations and had kindly agreed to tour them around. Her face was a mask of politeness with a hint of practiced sympathy as they sat in her office.

  "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," Ava said as she took out a folded handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed her eyes. If Nick was surprised at the clipped British accent, he didn't let on. "I'm sorry, this is still so upsetting. My grandfather's condition will require personalized care, and this place came highly recommended."

  "Of course, Ms Reed," Levitt replied. "We specialize in patients who require special care. I'm sure Breezy Oaks is the right place for your grandfather."

  Ava dabbed her eyes again as she reached out for Nick's hand with all the drama she could muster. He took her hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it lightly.

  "Could we bother you for a glass of water, Ms Levitt?" Nick asked. "My fiancée is still very overwrought over what happened to Dr. Novak."

  "Of course," Ms. Levitt smiled politely as she got up. "Just give me a moment."

  They watched her leave the room. Ava got up and crossed the room to the neatly organized cabinets along the wall.

  "I bet you this is where they keep the records," she whispered as she checked the drawers. "How long do you think we have before she comes back?"

  "Not long," Nick said as he listened by the door. "Be quick about it. I'll try to stall her."

  While Ave searched the cabinet, Nick met Ms Levitt outside as she was rushing back with the glass of water. He expertly blocked her way, so she was unable to see past him.

  "May I have a quick word?" he asked, flashing her one of his charming smiles. She looked up at him breathlessly and nodded.

  "You see, Ms Levitt," he glanced back towards her office as if he didn't want Ava to hear them and guided her away from the door. "My fiancée is extremely close to her grandfather. She wants to ensure that he gets the best care money can buy. Do you understand what I mean?"

  "We came here because we heard that Breezy Oaks is not only exclusive but also discreet," he purposely reached out and touched her shoulder. "Let's just say that Dr. Novak wants his privacy. You know what I'm saying?"

  "Of course," Ms Levitt looked like she was about to down the glass of water herself. "Some of our clients are extremely exclusive. And, if the family wishes," she whispered. "We can ensure that their loved ones are kept extra comfortable. There are many medicines to ensure that."

  "Good to hear, Ms Levitt," Nick said.

  When they walked inside, Ava sat in her chair, dabbing her eyes. She took a small sip of the water and set the glass down on the desk.

  "Do you think we can have that tour now?" she asked.

  "Of course, Ms Reed."

  ***

  The tour showed them
the main parts of the building, including an impressive theatre room, ballroom and music room. They viewed a sample room to give them an idea of what her grandfather could expect.

  "We have around-the-clock care on-premises," Ms. Levitt told them as she efficiently guided them through. "Our staff include doctors, nurses, physical therapists, nutritionists and other wellness staff."

  So far, they haven't run into anyone that resembled Adam. Since it looked like they might be running out of places to see inside the buildings, Ava paused by the large window that looked over the manicured gardens.

  "Look, darling," she said to Nick in her best Joan imitation. "What a charming garden."

  "At Breezy Oaks, we believe that fresh air and regular exercise aid in the treatment of our patients," she said proudly. "Would you like to see the orangery?"

  "An orangery," Ava said as Nick wrapped his arm around her waist. "How lovely."

  "Lead the way, Ms Levitt," he said with a smile, ignoring Ava's elbow trying to push his arm away.

  "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him.

  "Trying to stay in character, darling," he said through his teeth as his hand slid further down just above her derriere. This was the most fun he had in a while.

  The orangery was housed in a large glass greenhouse. It was full of lush trees and flowers with a small waterfront in the centre. There were several patients with their caregivers pushing them around down the paths. It was a bit creepy, in Ava's opinion, but she just smiled.

  They were almost back at the house when the massive door opened, and a nurse brought out a man in a wheelchair. He was heavy set with silver-tipped hair and a dour expression on his round face.

  As there was no way to get back in the building without passing them by, they waited for the nurse and her patient to pass by. The man in the wheelchair stared at Ava incredulously, and then he smiled.

  "Sharon," he shouted. "SHARON."

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not…."

  "Sharon," he said again, motioning to the nurse to stop. "What are you doing here? They said you were gone."