No Trace

by Brenda Chapman

  “Ryan had a girlfriend?” Carl asked. “He never mentioned one to me, but I’m not surprised. He’s good-looking boy.”

  Bobby added, “Ryan kept his work and social life separate.”

  “Well, thanks again.” I pushed the door open and stepped outside. The grey November clouds had darkened. Cold drops of rain struck my face by the time I’d crossed the parking lot to my car. I decided to head home to type up what I’d observed and to read through the file again. I’d plan my next steps and get a fresh start in the morning. Hopefully, by then, I’d be able to think of some angle that the police hadn’t already crossed off the list.

  The question was . . . what?

  CHAPTER SIX

  I smelled duck cooking and heard voices when I stepped inside the front door. I padded down the hallway in my stocking feet and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Dad and Evan were bent over a bowl with their backs to me.

  “Now add the nutmeg and we’ll give it one more stir. Then, you can lick the spoon.”

  “Is this really Aunt Anna’s favourite dessert?” Evan asked.

  “Well, she has lots of favourites. But this is definitely one of them.”

  They both turned when I cleared my throat. “Sounds like a spice cake in the works,” I said. “You’re never going to get me to move out at this rate, Dad.”

  Dad smiled but didn’t say anything. Evan jumped off the chair he’d been standing on and ran over to throw his arms around my waist. I hugged him tightly before letting him go.

  “My dad’s coming for supper,” Evan said as he hopped back onto the chair.

  I met Dad’s eyes. They were signalling me not to say anything about Jimmy or what was going on with Cheri. “I’m going to type up some notes on the case before supper.”

  “I’ll call when we’re ready,” Dad said.

  I could hear Dad telling Evan to keep stirring until he told him to stop as I walked down the hall to the back den. Dad had set up a desk for me under a window looking into the backyard. The scattered drops of rain had turned into a downpour. Rain streaked the glass and the afternoon sky was dark and heavy.

  I sat staring outside for a few minutes. The day’s interviews played across my mind and I tried to pin down what was making me uneasy. The feeling had been growing all day and I knew I was missing something important.

  My laptop was open to a new page and I began typing notes into the Ryan Green file. With any luck, reliving the day’s conversations would make the thing I’d missed pop out. Before that could happen, I heard voices in the kitchen and a minute later Jimmy appeared in the doorway with two bottles of beer.

  “Thought you could use a sounding board,” he said, dropping into the easy chair next to my desk. I could smell his musky aftershave when I reached over to accept the beer. He was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt and his arm muscles bulged when he leaned forward.

  “Tell me something,” I said. “How can a kid from a good family with lots of friends disappear one day without anybody knowing anything?”

  “It happens.” He took a drink and lowered the bottle to his lap. “Maybe more than we know. Have you run out of ideas already?”

  “No, but I can’t say I’ve made any progress . . . yet. What does Chuck Green do for a living?”

  “Ryan’s dad? He works for the government in policy or something equally as exciting.”

  I smiled. Jimmy hated any job that involved sitting at a desk and thinking. “Is the Greens’ marriage in good shape?”

  “Who knows? They put up a united front, but I get the feeling Vanda is a nervous and controlling kind of woman. I spent a good part of every meeting we had when Ryan first disappeared keeping her from losing it. She kept saying it was her husband’s fault that Ryan ran away. Chuck was patient with her, but he usually smelled of liquor. His way of coping, I guess.”

  “What a sad mess.”

  As if in solidarity, we both lifted our beer bottles to our lips. While I swallowed, I tried to think how to raise the subject of Cheri. I was saved when Evan bounced into the room to get us for dinner.

  We didn’t talk much as we dug into plates of roast duck, wild rice, asparagus, salad and homemade buns. I didn’t think I’d have room left for spice cake and ice cream but I managed two helpings before pushing my plate away.

  “Can I wash the dishes tonight, Grandpa?” Evan asked. “Can I, please?”

  Dad pretended to think it over. “Only if I get to read you two chapters of Treasure Island tonight. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “Is Evan staying over?” I asked, looking at Jimmy.

  “I have an early morning shift and your dad offered.” Jimmy’s phone began ringing in his pocket. “Work,” he said, and his eyes were suddenly alert. “Must be something up.”

  He pushed back from the table and went into the hallway. We sat still, listening to the rise and fall of his voice but not hearing what he said. When he came back into the kitchen, he looked directly at me. “A body was found in the woods just outside the town of Carp. Been there a while. Looks to be a male.”

  My heart dropped. “Ryan Green?” I asked.

  “Too soon to tell. Do you want to come along?”

  “Sure. I’ll get my jacket.”

  “Maybe an umbrella too. It’s still raining hard.” He crouched down and opened his arms wide. “Come give me a hug, Evan. I’m going to need a great big one to keep me warm.”

  . . .

  Jimmy drove about half an hour west of Ottawa and found a parking spot behind two police cruisers on the shoulder of the highway. Bright lights had been strung up near the body, and we walked toward them through an opening in the brush. Rain dripped from the trees but their branches protected us from the worst of it. Even wearing my raincoat and a thick sweater, the dampness went right through me.

  We reached a small opening where the body had been partially buried. Jimmy spoke to one of the detectives, named Oliver Sparks.

  “How did someone find the body? This is the middle of nowhere.”

  “A guy was walking his dogs and they started digging before he got to the scene. A couple of farm hounds.”

  “Lucky for us. We’ve been searching for a missing seventeen-year-old boy. Could it be him?”

  “Hard to say. This guy’s not weathered well. Forensics is having a look now.”

  Before long, a woman dressed in a white jumpsuit that protected her clothes walked toward us. Her shoes were covered by plastic booties. “All done, Sparky,” she said to the detective standing with us as she removed latex gloves. She looked at Jimmy and me but didn’t ask who we were.

  “What can you tell us?” Sparks asked.

  “He was shot in the head. By the state of the body, I’d say he’s been dead several months.” Her large brown eyes didn’t show any emotion.

  “How old was he?” Jimmy asked.

  Her gaze zoomed in on him. “Officer Wilson?” she asked. A smile filled her face like a sudden burst of sunshine. “I didn’t recognize you with your hood up.” A look passed between them that spoke of other times. “I can’t tell his age yet. Do you think you know him?”

  Jimmy turned on the charm. “Been a long time, Lucy. You’re looking good as ever. We’ve got a missing grade twelve student and hope this isn’t him. You never know.”

  “I’ll give you a call when I have more. I’ll be doing the autopsy first thing tomorrow.” Her smile was honey warm and as inviting as an open door.

  “I’ll sit in on that,” said Jimmy. He pulled his gaze away from her to look at me. “Sweet, I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said, keeping my voice as flat as a pancake. I stepped around the two of them to get a closer look at the body. Two men in white jumpsuits had already loaded it onto a stretcher and were pulling a cover up over what was left of the man’s face.

  “You won’t be able to recognize him,” Lucy warned from behind me. “Several months in the woods have not been kind. Hungry w
ild animals and all that.”

  I changed my mind about asking to have a look and let them take the stretcher past me without comment. I looked over at Jimmy. “I’ll see you back in the car. Take your time if you have other . . . business to wrap up.”

  Jimmy sounded amused. “I’m right behind you.”

  We’d almost reached the road when I said over my shoulder, “Old girlfriend, Officer Wilson?”

  “I wouldn’t call Lucy old, exactly.” Jimmy chuckled. “And she was never my girlfriend, Sweet. I’m a true blue kind of guy.”

  I choked back my first reply and said instead, “Good to know, because for a minute there, I could have sworn the lovely Lucy thought you had a history together.”

  Jimmy caught up to me and leaned his head close to mine. “When a woman has a history with me, Sweet, neither one of us ever forgets it.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dad and Evan were both asleep when I got home. I poured myself a Scotch and snuggled under a blanket on the couch to warm up. Dad had tucked a section of the newspaper nearly out of sight under his chair. I reached over and pulled it out. He’d been reading the arts section, which was unusual. It was the section he normally skipped. He’d folded the paper in two so I opened it and spread out the pages.

  Nick’s frowning face stared back at me, the gorgeous actress Carolina Mambella close beside him. She was smiling, her long black hair loose around her face. Her lips were painted a startling red, making her black eyes appear even blacker. One of her hands rested on Nick’s arm. Her nails were as blood red as her lips. The headline read: Actor Nick Roma Dating Italian Bombshell Carolina Mambella.

  I sat for a while with the paper in my lap. “So that’s that, then,” I said. I suddenly felt very tired. Nick had talked about moving in together before he left to make the movie in British Columbia. I hadn’t jumped at the idea but said we could talk about it when he got home. The careful part of me had worried about getting in too deep too fast. I guess that wasn’t going to be an issue any longer.

  I finished my drink in one gulp and walked down the hall toward my bedroom. I stopped when a scream broke the silence.

  Evan.

  I took the stairs two at a time and reached the landing in time to see Dad’s back disappearing into the guest bedroom. The screaming stopped and I could hear Dad telling Evan that everything was going to be okay. It was just a bad dream.

  Dad was rocking Evan in his arms when I reached the doorway. I waited for him to tuck Evan back in and join me in the hall. Dad looked tired and I reached out a hand to pat his shoulder.

  “You okay, Dad?”

  “As okay as a person can be after being woken up like that. How did it go tonight?”

  “Not sure. We’ll find out tomorrow if the body they found is Ryan Green.” I took one last look at my sleeping nephew. “Evan is having a hard time.”

  “He’s worried about his parents. Can’t say that I blame him.”

  “I’ll see if I can talk to Cheri tomorrow.”

  “I think it’s time.” Dad ran a hand through his white hair so that it stood on end. “Well, I’m heading back to bed.”

  “I’m on my way, too.”

  I didn’t mention that I knew Nick had betrayed me with the Italian actress. We’d both had enough upset for one night. And I wasn’t sure that I could take Dad’s pity even if I only saw it in his eyes.

  . . .

  Dad and Evan were still sound asleep when I left the house in the morning. The rain had stopped, but a northern wind had come up. A chill ran through me as I stepped outside into the darkness. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour or so.

  I drove downtown and parked outside the yoga studio where Cheri worked out. She said that she needed this exercise to kick start her days. We all thought she worked too much in her lawyer job, but she wouldn’t listen to our concerns. It seemed that becoming a partner in the law firm had started to be more important to her than her marriage. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Cheri had always needed to prove herself, even as a little kid. None of us could convince her that she was good enough just as she was.

  The class was full: thirty women in workout clothes, arms resting on mats and rear ends stretching up to the ceiling. I spotted Cheri in the front row before I walked two blocks for a takeout coffee. I finished drinking it by the time Cheri came out of her class twenty minutes later. She looked surprised to see me standing on the sidewalk.

  “Do you have time for breakfast?” I asked. “My treat.”

  “No,” she tilted her head and smiled, “but I can make time.”

  We fought the wind down the street to John’s Diner and found a booth near the front window. Cheri ordered poached eggs and toast with a glass of water on the side. I went for the full meal deal—scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast, jam and coffee. I had the feeling it was going to be a long day and that I was going to need the energy.

  We both looked out the window for a while, not talking. A plastic bag blew past, followed by a newspaper.

  Finally, Cheri turned her head to look at me. “I’ve asked Jimmy for a divorce. We’re too far apart now to make our marriage work.”

  “But Jimmy loves you.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Her smile came and went. “He loves the girl I was when we got married. But I’ve changed. I want more than Saturday nights in front of the television eating pizza. I don’t want any more kids . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  That was the moment I knew Cheri and Jimmy weren’t going to patch things up. They would not have their happily ever after. I wasn’t sure how it made me feel. Sad, depressed . . . hopeful? Was this what I’d wanted all along? For Jimmy to come back to me after he realized I was the sister he should have married?

  “What about Evan?” I asked.

  “We’ll be sharing him fifty-fifty for now, although Jimmy has agreed to be flexible if we need to adjust schedules because of work. And there’s always Dad.”

  Always Dad. She didn’t seem to realize the strain she was putting on him. But I knew my sister was hurting, too. I reached over and took her hand from where it rested on the table. “I want to make sure you’re okay,” I said.

  “I’ll be okay.” Her eyes didn’t waver when she looked into mine. They were clear blue and determined. Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. “He never loved me like he loved you, Anna,” she said. She gave me one more half-smile before gently pulling her hand free from mine.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “It’s not Ryan.” Jimmy spoke to somebody else and then back into his phone. “Whoever it is was in his forties and was killed by a gunshot wound to the head.”

  I’d pulled my car over to the side of the road to answer my cellphone. In a strange twist of late fall weather, today was sunny and unusually warm. I leaned my head back against the seat and looked at the blue sky as I asked, “Do you have any idea who he could be?”

  “We’re going through the missing persons files now and checking his prints with the database.”

  “You were able to get prints?”

  “Only from one hand. The other hand wasn’t in good shape . . . Do you really want to know the details?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’m going to head over to the Greens to talk with Chuck and Vanda. I was waiting to know if we’d found Ryan.”

  “Let’s stay in touch.”

  I eased my car back into traffic and continued north on Bank Street. The Greens lived west of Bank on a street filled with large houses on narrow lots. Their house was a three-storey red brick home set back from the road and surrounded by an iron fence. I got the feeling that this was a quiet street with wealthy owners who liked their privacy.

  I parked and opened the gate, which creaked loudly. By the time I reached the front door, Vanda Green was holding it open, inviting me in. She brought me into the kitchen at the back of the house. It was completely modern with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. Green-shaded lamps hung over a large central island. I sat on a stool
next to the island while she poured coffee.

  “You just missed Chuck and Travis,” she said, sitting down across from me. Her hair was threaded with grey and her perm was growing out, curly at the ends and straight in other places. “They’ve gone to the mall.” Her hands moved constantly, pouring cream, adding sugar, tapping her fingers on the counter. “I won’t let Travis go alone anymore.”

  “I know this is a difficult time for your family,” I said. “Before you hear on the news, a body was found yesterday evening. But it’s not Ryan.”

  One hand found the buttons on her shirt. “Thank the Lord. Who was it?”

  “The police are trying to find out now. It’s a man, but he’s older than Ryan.”

  “His poor family.”

  “Can you tell me about the week Ryan went missing? Did anything unusual happen, no matter how small it seemed at the time? A change in Ryan’s behaviour, perhaps?”

  Vanda’s eyes searched the room as if the answer could be found in one of its corners or behind a piece of furniture. “He was mad at me,” she said at last. “We had a fight that morning. Ryan said that he was tired of my constant worrying and I had to give him some room.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Did I push him away? I haven’t been able to sleep, thinking that I’m the reason he’s gone.” Her voice dropped. “He yelled awful things. I . . . I was shocked. I never told anybody, not even Chuck. I was scared the police would stop looking for him. My son would never run away.”

  “Do you know who his new girlfriend was?”

  “Ryan always had new girlfriends. I think he kept this one a secret so I wouldn’t check up on her. I did that sometimes.”

  No wonder he’d told her to back off. I tried a new line of questioning. “You moved around a lot, before settling in Ottawa a few years ago. What does your husband do, exactly?”

  “Chuck works for National Defence in the office. He orders equipment. It’s boring work, from what he tells me.” She laughed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The laugh seemed out of place.

  “Where did you live before you moved to Ottawa?”