A Model Death
A Model Death
Brenda Chapman
Copyright © 2014 Brenda Chapman
First published in 2014 by Grass Roots Press
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Grass Roots Press gratefully acknowledges the financial support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Government of Alberta through the Alberta Foundation for the Arts.
All rights reserved.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Chapman, Brenda, 1955–, author
A model death / Brenda Chapman.
(Anna Sweet mysteries)
ISBN 978–1–77153–007–1 (pbk.)
I. Title. II. Series: Chapman, Brenda, 1955– . Anna Sweet mysteries.
PS8605.H36M63 2014 C813'.6 C2014–906899–9
Printed and bound in Canada.
ISBN 978-1-77153-052-1 (e-book)
For my mom, Ollie Chapman
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
“It’s not like Nick to be late.” Jada Price, my partner at Storm Investigations, tilted her beer bottle so that it pointed toward our closed office door. “He said that he’d be here early to help celebrate.”
“Something better must have come up.” I rammed the knife hard into the Black Forest cake I’d bought at a bakery down the street. We were having a little party to mark the end of a big case—we’d reunited a missing teenager with her family after a year on the street. It looked like the kid was happy to be home and that felt good. What Jada didn’t know was that our office assistant, Nick Roma, had asked me to dinner after the cake cutting.
I’d been looking forward to seeing if the spark I felt for him could grow into something deeper. But Nick must have had second thoughts about his offer. He could have at least called to let me know he was backing out.
“Refill your beer?” Jada asked as she pulled open the small fridge door.
“No thanks. I’m going to head out for a burger after this cake. You can come along if you like.”
“I’ve got a date. Sorry.”
Jada had a string of men eager to take her out. She rarely had to cook a meal or eat alone. I raised the knife and gave the cake another whack. Nick Roma was the only date I’d accepted since I’d come back to Ottawa the year before. Now he’d stood me up and I felt like a fool.
I flipped the piece of cake onto a plate and handed it to Jada. She looked from me to the knife and back again, but didn’t say anything. I hacked off a second piece for myself before we took our chairs side by side, and put our feet up on the desk.
Jada scooped a forkful of icing into her mouth. She followed it with a swallow of beer and said, “I hear your sister Cheri is back in town.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You haven’t seen her?”
I shook my head. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“She missed Evan’s seventh birthday.”
I had mixed feelings about my flighty sister, mostly angry ones. What kind of mother left her family for a year to work overseas? Cheri’s claim that she needed the time away to further her career had been the height of selfishness in my book. Evan and my brother-in-law, Jimmy, had coped okay after a few months of moping around. They’d both spent a lot of time at my dad’s house, where I was staying. Maybe too much time.
Jimmy and I had been engaged before he took up with my sister and married her instead. I could tell the last few months that he was rethinking his choice. I hoped Cheri’s return from China would get things back to normal. I’d also been hoping a date with Nick Roma would get my thoughts off Jimmy. So much for good intentions.
I ate the last of my slice of cake and stood up. “I’m heading out. If Nick shows up . . . tell him . . . tell him I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Where are you having supper?”
“I’ll wander up Wellington Street until I find a place.”
I left the office and climbed down the stairs. When I reached the sidewalk, I walked west along the busy Hintonburg street, which was lined with stores, restaurants, and coffee shops. The evening was warm for October, but the summer had been a hot one. In daylight, the leaves were brilliant yellow, red, and orange. Some crunched under my feet but most were still on the trees. By now, though, the sun had sunk behind the tall buildings and the streetlights were on. Thanksgiving was just over a week away.
After I crossed Holland, I entered a pub called The Wood. The food was good and I could sit at the bar and watch sports on the flat screen. I ordered a pint of local beer and a cheeseburger platter.
The pretty bartender flicked through the stations on the television in front of me and stopped on a breaking news alert. She turned to me, her brown eyes wide. “Have you heard about this?”
“Heard about what?”
“One of the TV stars from the show A Model Life was murdered near the Rideau Canal. Dow’s Lake, to be exact.”
“No way.” I leaned closer and she turned up the volume. The reporter’s face was upset. She said into the camera, “Lena Caruso was found by a passing jogger early this morning. Police aren’t saying much at this time but are asking for anyone with information to come forward.”
A photo of a stunning Italian girl in her twenties filled the screen. A hotline phone number was just below her image. She had masses of long black hair, giant eyes the colour of dark chocolate, and high cheekbones. She’d been one of a trio of models from other countries being filmed as they adjusted to life in Ottawa. The reality show was a hit in the city and the three women were instant stars.
“What a tragedy,” I said.
“Isn’t it? Nobody is safe.” The girl switched channels to a football game as my burger arrived.
My cellphone rang while I was popping the last French fry into my mouth.
“Nick’s being held at the police station on Elgin. They say he murdered his girlfriend in a jealous rage and left her by the canal. Can you get down to the station and check it out?” Jada’s voice was loud and worried.
“That can’t be right,” I said. My eyes returned to the television screen then back to my empty beer glass. I pictured Lena Caruso’s beautiful face with the hotline number below. Nick had been a movie star in Italy before he moved to Ottawa to be with his dad. And he liked to keep his past a secret. If what Jada said was true, all that was about to change.
I signalled with my hand for the bartender to come over. “I’ll get down there as soon as I can,” I said to Jada.
“Good. Phone me when you know what’s going on.” The line went dead.
“Was everything okay with your meal?” The girl waited while I fished in my pocket for my wallet.
“It was great. But I have to cancel the beer I just ordered. I got called into work.”
“I know what that feels like. All your plans go down the toilet.”
“Yeah.” As if I’d had any plans to flush away.
On the way back to my car, which I’d left parked near the office, I mumbled, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” What was it with me and men? The second I start letting one of them
close to me, they end up being a murder suspect. I should never have let someone as secretive as Nick Roma into my world. Killer or not, he had enough baggage to fill an Ottawa city bus.
CHAPTER TWO
I walked into the Elgin Street police station twenty minutes later. It was going on seven thirty. I was pleased to see my old friend Carlo Sanchez working the main desk. We’d met when I was a cop several years earlier, before I shot and killed a drugged-out kid while on duty. Carlo had tried to convince me to stay on the force. He hadn’t succeeded, but I’d always thought of him as a friend.
“Hey, Anna Sweet! I figured you’d be paying us a visit this evening.”
I leaned against the desk and smiled. “I guess you know Nick Roma works for us. What can you tell me about the case?”
“Not much but Mr. Roma has been answering questions since early afternoon.”
“Who’s in there with him?”
“Ice Cube and your ex.”
Translation: Detective Johnny Shaw and my brother-in-law, Jimmy Wilson.
“What’s Jimmy doing on the case? He and Shaw don’t work together.”
“Jimmy asked to be on this one, and Shaw was down a cop.” Carlo shrugged. “Cutbacks.”
Of course Jimmy asked to be on this case. He’d disliked Nick from the moment he met him. They’d been like two bulls sizing each other up. “What have they got on Nick?” I asked.
“I don’t know much. But Lena Caruso and Nick Roma go way back, apparently.”
“The news report didn’t say how she died.”
Carlo searched the room with his eyes to make sure nobody was listening. He looked back at me. “Strangled. She was found in some bushes near Dow’s Lake this morning around five o’clock.”
“How long had she been dead?”
“They think anywhere between four and six hours.” Putting time of death somewhere around midnight.
“Was she . . .”
“Raped? Not that I heard.”
“Thanks, Carlo. Is Nick under arrest?”
“No, not yet. Unless he confesses, he should be out soon. You can wait over there if you like.” He pointed to some chairs near the wall.
I took a seat and texted Jada with what little information I had. Then I scrolled through news sites on my phone to read more about the case. The papers had less facts than I’d gotten from Carlo. After a while, I put away my phone, stretched out my legs, and folded my arms across my chest.
“Wake up, Anna.”
I opened my eyes and turned my head. Nick Roma was sitting beside me, a weary smile on his face. He wore jeans, a blue-and-white checked shirt, and tan leather shoes. His straight black hair was gelled back from his face and stubble darkened his cheeks. Even after a day of questioning, he looked and smelled good. His black eyes studied me. I saw sadness in their depths that he blinked away when he knew I was awake.
“What time is it?” I sat up and stretched.
“Nine thirty. Time to get out of here.”
Nick didn’t wait for me to pull myself together. I caught up with him just outside the station. He was standing to the left of the main entrance, looking at the full moon and breathing in the cool night air. I waited beside him until he turned and looked down at me. I could see the same tight smile he’d had on his face when I woke up.
“Do you need a lift?” I asked.
“If you don’t mind. I could catch a cab if it’s out of your way, though.”
“I don’t mind.”
We started walking toward the crosswalk. My car was parked on a side street on the other side of Elgin. I didn’t say anything, waiting for him to break the silence.
Nick stopped suddenly on the sidewalk, steps from my car. “I need to hire Storm Investigations,” he said. “Because I’m in a lot of trouble.” His face was a mix of pain and confusion.
My first instinct was to put an arm around his shoulders and give him a hug. My second was to smack him on the chest and ask him what he’d gotten himself into.
Instead, I clicked my key fob and unlocked the car doors. “Let’s go get a drink somewhere,” I said. “Then you can tell me all about Lena Caruso and why they think you killed her.”
I didn’t ask him if he had. There’d be time for that soon enough.
CHAPTER THREE
Nick had recently moved into a luxury town house that he owned backing onto the canal near the University of Ottawa. It was another strike against him in the murder investigation, since the canal fed into Dow’s Lake. I drove north until I found a parking spot near the Elgin Street Diner. I turned off the engine and glanced over at him.
“You look like you need something to eat,” I said. “I already ate but don’t mind watching you have a meal.”
“I’m starving, actually. And I’m sorry I missed taking you out for dinner.”
“Don’t even think about it. That’s the least of your worries.”
We took a booth at the back of the restaurant. Nick ordered a club sandwich and a beer, and I asked for a coffee. I took out my notepad after the waitress served our drinks.
“So tell me about Lena Caruso.”
Nick rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I can’t believe she’s dead. The entire time the police were asking me questions, I thought they had the wrong woman. Lena was always so full of life and fun.”
“If Jada and I are going to help you get out of this, you have to tell me everything.”
Nick’s sandwich arrived and he took a bite. He seemed to be buying himself some time. At last, he started talking.
“My father told you that I was an actor in Italy. I’d asked him not to share that information, but he likes to brag—I guess fathers always do.” Nick smiled and shook his head at the thought of Gino. “My parents separated when I was ten and I moved with Dad to Canada when I was twelve. I went back to Rome to live with my mother when I was fifteen. She signed me up for a movie audition the next year and I got the part. That led to more movies and I became well known in Italy. I met Lena on the set of one when we were both eighteen. She was a model but acted in small parts. Soon we were dating, and then we lived together for a couple of years.”
“Gino said that she broke your heart.”
Nick’s eyes held mine. “I told him that, but it wasn’t true. I left her. Lena was scared people would think less of her, so I let everyone think she dumped me. We’d grown apart and had nothing in common anymore. I came home to spend time with Dad last year.”
“But Lena followed you to Ottawa.”
“Yeah. I think Lena felt that I’d regret leaving, given some time. She wanted us to make another go of it, so she had her agent search for work in Ottawa. He found this reality TV show and she tried out for it. She was perfect for the part.”
“Did you spend time together after she arrived in Ottawa?”
Nick’s eyes slid from mine and he took another bite of his sandwich. “She kept calling me. Every night for a month. I finally agreed to meet her in August. I told her we could be friends but nothing more. She stopped phoning . . . for a while.”
“As I recall, she has a boyfriend on the show.”
“The writer gave her one. It’s not a real relationship.”
“You’ve just killed my faith in reality TV.”
“They work from a script, just like any other show. It’s thinly disguised acting.”
Now came the question I’d been dreading. “Did you meet Lena yesterday at Dow’s Lake?”
Nick shifted in his seat so that he was looking over my shoulder. “She’d started calling again this week, leaving messages on my voice mail. The last few messages, I heard panic in her voice. I called back two days ago and Lena asked me to meet her. I agreed because she said she had nobody else to turn to. I thought she was making up a crisis, but couldn’t be sure.”
I repeated, “Did you meet her at Dow’s Lake?”
“I arrived at Malone’s Grill in the field house at Dow’s Lake at ten last night and waited for her for an hour. But Lena ne
ver showed. I walked along the canal for a while and then drove home. She didn’t answer any of my text messages.”
“Ten seems kind of late.” I kept my voice flat.
“She said she had stuff to do first.”
“You have no idea why she was frightened?”
“None whatsoever. Looks like she had good reason to be afraid, though. I wish I’d been able to help her, but now it’s too late.”
I studied Nick’s face but I didn’t know him well enough to tell if he was lying. He hadn’t revealed anything from his past life in all the months he’d worked for us. And I could tell he didn’t like being forced to tell his secrets now. I wondered how bad this murder investigation would have to get before he told me everything.
Nick ate the last of his sandwich and I called the waitress over for our bill. It had been a long day and we needed to get some sleep to face whatever surprises were coming our way tomorrow.
. . .
Dad was still up when I got home at eleven thirty. He was sitting in his recliner in the living room, reading and sipping his nightly Scotch before bed. I plopped down in the chair next to his.
“You look like you’ve had a busy night,” he said. “Work or fun?”
“Work.”
“Too bad. You could use a hot date now and then. Keeps the energy levels up.”
I gave him a sideways grin. “You go first.”
“I just might.” He closed his book and drained the last of his drink. “I’ve invited your sister and the family for Thanksgiving dinner. Jimmy should be able to make it.”
“Dad, I was hoping to put off seeing Cheri for a while. I’m working on a new murder case now. So is Jimmy.”
“You both have to eat. It’s time for you and Cheri to bury your hatchets and get on with being sisters again. Neither one of you is perfect.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Maybe it’s my fault. After your mother died, I wasn’t always the best at that sympathy parenting stuff. I found it easier to ignore your girl troubles and all the drama. But both you and Cheri have the knack for running away when relationships get tough.”
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