"That's pretty generous for any parent," Nick said. "Even more so for a stepfather."
"Studio 416 closed not long after Sharon went missing," Ava noted as she read the notes. "Adam's career shifted to politics after that. That's a bit of an odd shift. From a gallery to politics?"
"It seems his heart was more set on art than it was on the corporate world. According to his bio - it's still online, by the way - he got a degree in fine arts. I tried to find some of his works, but nothing stood out. Average student, mediocre artist."
"And a daddy with deep pockets. Why bother getting your foot in the door when you can just get your own door and everything else that comes with it?" Ava walked over to the couch and sat down. "I wonder how the daughter, Elizabeth, felt about this."
"Based on the bio on the company site," he read. "Elizabeth went to top schools and graduated at the top of her class with degrees in business and finance. She'd worked for the family business from an early age and took over the reins upon her father's death."
"So the gallery probably wasn't her thing then," Ava mused. "Does she have any kids?"
"Not that I can find. She never posts anything to suggest that on the few social media sites she uses. In general, her online presence is limited."
They both studied the woman's face on his computer screen. Nick swirled the chair around to face Ava. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.
"I'd say she got a better deal," he said. "Daddy might have opened the gallery for Adam, but the real moneymaker went to her. She got the company, the name and the money."
"Yeah, I agree," Ava said. "I don't think she spent too much time crying about it."
"She doesn't strike me as a crier."
"Definitely not," Ava laughed. "Did you find anything on the guy from the Harbour? Anthony Lowell?"
"Not exactly," Nick went back to the computer. "I found something even better. Check this out."
"Wow," Ava said in surprise. "What do we have here?"
***
She stared at the man's face on the screen. He had the same face and similar hair to the man pulled out of the Halifax waters. His eyes stared right at the camera. But his name wasn't Anthony Lowell. It was Antonio DiPalma.
"Who the heck is Antonio DiPalma?" she asked.
"That is an excellent question," Nick said. "I found the name when I was looking at Studio 416, but that was before you sent me the info on Anthony Lowell. I didn't put the two and two together at first because I wasn't looking for him."
"Did he work at the gallery then?" Ava asked. "I don't remember his name in any interviews or reports."
"He didn't technically work at Studio 416. It was more like he did work for them," Nick pulled up the information. "The gallery mainly sold and exhibited art. They also worked with local artists to help them gain exposure. Antonio DiPalma was one of those artists."
"He must have known Sharon then," Ava's hand automatically reached for her pendant. "Was he there long?"
"It seems that Antonio DiPalma was almost exclusively featured at the gallery in and around the time of Sharon's disappearance," Nick said. "Other than the gallery, there wasn't a lot of information available on DiPalma online. What's there is pretty dated."
"Not surprising," she said. "Considering that he was dead before the Internet took off mainstream. Did you find any more pictures?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Nick smiled and pulled up the pages to show her.
She saw it then, right there in front of her. Sharon and other coworkers with DiPalma at the gallery. In one of the pictures, it was just Sharon and DiPalma looking very cozy.
"So they knew each other," she said. "Probably quite well. Why doesn't his name appear in any reports?"
"Another excellent question, and one I can't answer," Nick told her. "But take a look at some of his art that was featured at the gallery."
Antonio DiPalma fancied himself as a young Pablo Picasso even if he lacked the talent. His works included paintings, sculptures, ceramics and metalwork. They were prominently displayed at Studio 416 and even sold for reasonable amounts of money.
"You know, I would never claim to be an art expert," she said. "But, I've spent enough time in museums and grand palaces where the rich made a hobby out of collecting art. I don't think DiPalma was very good."
"I'd agree. See here?" Nick pointed at one of the pictures with some of DiPalma's art. "There is more to a painting than just what's in it. Sure, you need composition, colours and the right focal point, but there is also technique. Artists can quickly bring out emotions and impact the viewers with simple brush strokes and colour choices. He doesn't quite get that. It lacks heart."
"So, for someone with seemingly no talent, being featured exclusively at an established gallery must have been quite the feat," she said. "But why? Surely they could find better artists. How profitable could selling mediocre art be?"
"If Sharon's records were from the gallery, then I would say very."
"So not only were they selling mediocre art, someone was willing to pay a lot of money for it," she touched the pendant as she spoke. "Unless it wasn't about art. Or, at least not this particular art."
"What do you mean?"
"Sharon wasn't an artist, but she would have grown up with art, especially the classics. Like I did," Ava said. "She would definitely question why something so ordinary would be selling for such a great amount of money."
"Here is what I don't understand," Nick said. "Everyone kept saying how smart Sharon was and how good she was with numbers. If you have something shady going on at the gallery, why hire her in the first place knowing she could become a threat?"
"Maybe they hired her as an asset," Ava said. "She was a wiz with computers and numbers. I bet someone with her skill set would be very attractive at that time, especially if you wanted to hide something."
"Do you hire her hoping she sees things your way, or does she go in knowing exactly what is going on, and then for some reason, turns against you?"
"It could have gone down either way," Ava thought. "Once Sharon stopped being an asset, she became a liability. She knew enough to make her dangerous. Nervous enough to see her as a threat. One that had to be eliminated."
Chapter 16
Tyler decided to have another chat with Elizabeth Northam, and this time, it was going to be on his turf. Instead of going to her, he made a formal request for her to come into the station. He knew she wouldn't like that, and he was right.
Elizabeth showed up with her lawyer, dressed in a slick black suit that probably cost more than he made in a month. The lawyer, equipped with a leather case, a no-nonsense attitude and a hint of annoyance, made it very clear this interview was a waste of his client's time.
This time, Tyler made her wait. She was used to giving orders and having people wait on her all the time. He hoped reversing those roles would throw her off just enough to slip up. She knew something, and he needed to know what it was.
"This is outrageous," the lawyer spat out as soon as Tyler walked in. "You're wasting my client's valuable time with this ridiculous interview."
Tyler nodded as if acknowledging the complaint. He then looked directly at Elizabeth.
"Ms Northam," he said. "I appreciate you coming in, especially during this difficult time. Your brother's death must have come as a shock."
Elizabeth gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. He saw no grief in those piercing blue eyes. Her mouth tightened in a firm line with a touch of irritation just around the corners.
"Adam's death was unfortunate," she said, never taking her eyes off him. "But I fail to see what that has to do with me being here."
"I believe that your brother's death is connected to Sharon Novak's murder," Tyler said. "The woman who worked for your brother and whose body was found on your site."
"My client has already answered your questions about that woman," the lawyer chimed in. "A woman who was employed by my client's brother, not her, over two decades ago."
"And
yet, your client has a connection to both the woman, Sharon Novak," Tyler emphasized her name again, "and the location where Sharon's body was found."
"It's a coincidence," the lawyer said. "Nothing links my client directly to that woman and what happened to her. Are we done here?"
"Not quite," Tyler said. He opened his file folder, took out a picture of the man fished out of the Halifax harbour. "Ms Northam, are you familiar with a man by the name of Anthony Lowell?"
He saw the flash of surprise in her eyes. Her gaze lingered on the photo just a bit longer than necessary.
"I don't," she said, but this time her voice wasn't as controlled.
"What about Antonio DiPalma?"
"My client doesn't know these men, Detective," this time it was the lawyer who answered as he pushed the photo back towards Tyler. "I fail to see what this has to do with my client. Did these men have something to do with that woman's death?'
Tyler didn't answer him. Instead, he opened the folder again and pulled out the picture of Sharon and DiPalma that Ava sent him. He placed it in front of Elizabeth.
She stared at it with surprise. Her fingers itched to touch it and pull it closer, but she didn't. Something flashed across her face when she looked at it, but she hid it well. When she looked up and met Tyler's gaze, her face was impassive.
"What is this?" she asked.
"This is Sharon Novak with Antonio DiPalma," Tyler said, watching her expression. "He was an artist featured at Studio 416. The gallery your brother ran. Surely you would have met him?"
For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something but didn't. She tilted her head and looked him straight in the eye. "I couldn't say."
Tyler took the photo and placed it back in his folder. Elizabeth stared at it as if hoping to see the contents.
"Can you tell me you were when your brother died?" Tyler asked suddenly.
"My client doesn't have to answer that," the lawyer protested.
"I was in meetings," she answered at the same time. "In my office. I'm sure that's already been verified."
"Do you know who would have wanted your brother dead?"
"I would think that as a former politician, Adam probably made many enemies," she said. "Like I already told you, we weren't close."
"I think we're done here," the lawyer stood up and grabbed his case. "If there is anything else, you can contact my office directly."
Tyler watched them leave. People like her always demanded answers, especially when they felt inconvenienced. He showed her two photos with the same man without specifying his name.
Her lawyer referred to two men as if he didn't know they were the same person. Tyler didn't correct him, and Elizabeth didn't ask for clarification either.
She also never inquired about the progress of the investigation into her brother's death. Either she really didn't care or already knew who was responsible, just like she knew that DiPalma and Lowell were the same person. Tyler was sure she was hiding something, and she was connected to Sharon's murder. Now he had to figure out how.
***
When Ava got home from the gym, she didn't expect to find Stan and her parents waiting for her. They all sat around the living room having tea and cookies. She leaned against the doorway as she watched them.
"Isn't this lovely," she said. "Are we having brunch or something?"
"Oh good, you're here, Ava," Stan motioned for her to join them. He was still pale but seemed more like himself. "Come sit."
"What's going on?" she asked.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he said. "I think I want to sell the house."
"What do you mean?" Ava looked at her grandfather, puzzled. "Why would you want to sell the house?"
"I'm getting too old to maintain this place," he said slowly. "It's too much of a house for an old man like me."
"But I'm here," she said. "I can help you take care of the house."
Stan nodded his head and smiled.
"You have your own life, Ava, and it's not about living here with your grandfather," he raised his hand as if to stop her from arguing. "Truth be told, I'm tired. I'm tired of living in the past. I want to spend whatever is left of my life actually enjoying it."
"What do you mean?" Ava asked with a sinking feeling in her belly.
"I stayed in this house hoping that one day your mother would come back. I didn't want her to return and wonder what happened to us. To think we gave up on her," he glanced around the room filled with photographs and personal mementos. "Now that she's not coming back, I don't need to hold on to this place."
"Did you know about this?" Ava asked her parents.
"Stan mentioned it to us a few days ago," Michael said as he set his cup and saucer on the table. "We support his decision."
"It's still not set in stone," Stan told her. "I wanted to talk to you about it first."
"You don't have to ask my permission, Grandpa," she said. "This is your home."
"It's also yours," he said. "I don't want you to think that I'm giving up on Sharon or taking your memories away."
She walked over to where he sat and crouched beside him. The fact that he didn't want to sell the house without telling her first touched her. This was her connection to Sharon, but maybe it was time for them all to let go.
"I think that's a great idea, Grandpa," she smiled at him. "But where would you go?"
"I've had my eye on several very nice retirement residences," Stan said. "I haven't decided which one yet, but there is time."
"Please don't tell me one of those options is Breezy Oaks."
"What's Breezy Oaks?" Stan asked, confused.
"Never mind," she smiled. "Tell me about this palace you're looking at."
"I got a lead on this retirement home from one of my friends," Stan said. "Think of it as a condominium by the water-filled with all kinds of amenities but for retired people. A place where I can socialize with others my age and do all the things I do anyway."
"Sounds like fun," Ava said. She couldn't fault Stan for wanting to be around people his age. Doing ordinary things other people did that didn't revolve around the dead. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. He could use some companionship when she wasn't around.
"We were thinking of driving down to see some places," Joan told her. "You are welcome to join us."
"Maybe I should start looking for a place of my own," Ava smiled.
"You'll always have a home with us," Michael assured her. "For as long as you want. And if one day you decide to get a place of your own, we'll support that decision no matter where it is."
"Thanks, Dad," she smiled at him then looked back at Stan. "I think this is a great idea, Grandpa. I would love to see this retirement home with you."
She hoped it was nothing like Breezy Oaks. That place gave her the creeps. Something weird was going on there, but she couldn't place her finger on what that was. She would do everything in her power to keep her grandfather out of such a place.
***
Nick got home later than he expected. He spent the day doing a photo shoot for a client that had a new line of sportswear. It was great fun, but it also took up a large chunk of his time. Afterwards, he met up with Steve and a few friends for a drink and now all he wanted was a shower.
The rain came down just as he was parking on the street. He grabbed the cases with his equipment out of the trunk and carried them to the house as he got soaked on the way. Nick swore under his breath as he got to the door. At least the porch was covered, but now he had to search around for his house key while everything stuck to him.
"Hey," he turned at the sound of Ava's voice. She sat in one of the chairs with her legs curled under her as she played on her phone. She wore sweats and a long sleeve shirt that slid slightly off her right shoulder, exposing a thick bright strap of her tank top. Unlike him, she was dry and comfortable.
"I didn't see you there," Nick said. "What, no hot date tonight?"
She took the headphones ou
t of her ears and smiled.
"Not tonight," she said. "Dad and Joan went out to dinner, and Grandpa is sleeping. I thought I'd sit here and enjoy the rain."
"Want some company?" he asked, surprising himself.
"Sure," she said. "I'll be here."
Nick got the cases inside and went straight upstairs. Fifteen minutes later, he came back out in dry clothes. Just like Ava, he went for sweats and a t-shirt. He felt human again as he joined her.
"I uploaded the bits and pieces about Studio 416 and Antonio DiPalma to the forums and your site," he told her. "Hopefully, someone will come forward with something useful."
"Hopefully," Ava said, then added, "Burnett said someone killed Adam Walker."
"What?" he asked. "When?"
"Burnett went to see him," Ave said as she filled him in on what happened.
"I don't like it," Nick said. "Too many dead bodies keep turning up. Did you set up your panic button?"
"I did," she said. "I set you up as one of my emergency contacts for now."
"Let's hope you don't have to use it."
Ava smiled. This new Grumpy Nick was a lot more fun than Smug Nick. She definitely didn't expect him to get her the panic button. It was a nice gesture, so she decided to try being nicer to him too.
"Stan is thinking of selling the house," she said.
Nick nodded. There was no reason to tell her that he already knew.
"How do you feel about it?"
"Good, I think," she said. "It was weird at first when he told me. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. This house has too many memories for all of us."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. For the first time in my life, I don't have a plan," she admitted. "My whole life had one purpose. To find Sharon. I hadn't planned what I would do once I did."
"Are you going to move back to London?" he asked. The idea didn't sit well with him, but he kept it to himself.
"I'm thinking of finding a place here in Toronto," she said. "That way, I can be close to Stan and have a permanent base to work out of. My parents' house in London is great, but I think I'm ready for my own space."
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