The Other Side of Goodbye (Norman Green Book 1) Read online

  “Oh,” said Franklin, “I almost forgot. I was going to come by your place later today and talk, but I suppose since we happened to run into each other, I can tell you now.”

  “What’s that?” said Norman.

  “I heard you were going to continue investigating the Sweetwater case, and Amelia’s presence here seems to indicate my information was correct. I assume you two are investigating together?”

  “Yes.”

  “Amelia’s parents and teachers have approved this?”

  “Yes,” said Amelia, too fast. “They all know where I am.”

  “That’s interesting,” said Franklin. “You must have spoken to them within the last hour or so. I was at your house this morning. I spoke with your father, and he didn’t know where you were.”

  Amelia scoffed. “Harold is not my father.”

  Franklin raised an eyebrow. “You have his last name.”

  Amelia groaned. “I was asked to make a decision on my last name when I was seven. I went with the same last name as Robin. I didn’t want to be the odd one out. I would choose differently if I had the choice again.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” said Franklin, smiling. “Anyway, I didn’t have a lot of time to talk with Harold. He had a surgery scheduled, but he was worried about you.”

  Amelia shrugged. “Why should I care? Why were you at my house?”

  “I was updating them on the status of the investigation.”

  “I thought you were done with that. You said it was a random crime.”

  “I’m still trying my best to solve it,” said Franklin, and it almost seemed genuine. He turned back to Norman. “Norman, I wanted to tell you that we’ll be getting a warrant to search your condo.”

  Norman said, “Why the fuck do you need to go into my condo?”

  “You are involved in this case, by your own volition. You can’t expect me to just let you waltz around my case without checking you out.”

  “You won’t find anything.”

  Franklin stepped back from the window. “If I had a nickel for every time someone told me that, I could retire right now. I hope you two have a good day. No ring, Norman?”

  Norman glanced at the finger where he had been wearing the engagement ring on his finger the last time he saw Franklin.

  “Didn’t turn out so well,” said Norman, trying to brush it off.

  “Yeah,” said Franklin, tapping on the top of the car. “Ring looked a little too expensive for someone like you. What did you spend the money on instead?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “No,” said Franklin, smiling. “I suppose it isn’t. Have a good day.”

  Detective Franklin turned and walked back to his car, not once looking back at them.

  “What the hell was that?” said Norman.

  “I feel gross,” said Amelia. “Let’s get out of here before he starts following us.”

  “He might have other cops following us.”

  “Just go.”

  Norman didn’t need to be told a third time. He pulled away from the curve and turned right.

  “Which way to the school?” he said.

  “This way,” said Amelia, pointing at an exit that led north.

  They drove for a few more minutes, taking an intentionally convoluted route to throw off anyone tailing them.

  Chapter 24

  They pulled into the school via a back route normally reserved for buses. To the right there was a paved area concealed from the rest of the schoolyard, where, Amelia explained, the smokers liked to hang out.

  There were three guys waiting for them. There were smokers a dozen feet away, but none of the three were having any. They seemed irritated even to be in the presence of the smoking. They had the physiques of people who spent most of their free time in the gym. Norman remembered hearing that most of Joel’s friends were hockey players.

  “You’re the detective?” said the first guy who walked up. He held out a hand. “Carl Atkinson, nice to meet you.”

  “Norman Green.”

  Carl looked him up and down and crossed his arms. He was an inch shorter than Norman but made up for it with muscle mass. “You still got any NHL connections? I’m trying to get some scouts interested but haven’t had much luck.”

  “Carl,” said Amelia, stepping out of the car. “That’s not what this is about.”

  “Networking, Amelia,” said Carl. “It’s important.”

  Carl and Norman shook hands.

  The others, Will and Quinton, introduced themselves as well.

  “What can you tell me about Joel?” said Norman. He glanced back at the schoolyard, where a soccer game was taking place.

  “He didn’t kill himself,” said Carl. “I would bet my life on it.”

  “Why?”

  “He had too many plans for the future,” said Will. He was taller and scrawnier than the other two. “It was all he ever talked about. He talked about what he was going to do in the future and how he was going to change the world. He had plans to go to university and play hockey and then start a nonprofit for starving children. Whenever he was talking about it, he would get this big smile on his face. He had a goal, and he was working toward it. Does that sound like someone who would take their own life?”

  “No,” said Norman, taking a note. “What about any enemies? Can you think of anyone that might have had a bone to pick with Joel?”

  Quinton laughed. “Every other team in our division. Joel was having the season of a lifetime. He was averaging something like three and a half points a game. He was a hero around town.”

  Amelia crossed her arms. “It was all Mom and Harold could talk about. They had dreams of him going to the NHL, but Joel just saw it as a means to an end. He wanted to get an education.”

  “Is there anything more specific?” said Norman. “Just the idea that someone might want to hurt him because of his success isn’t enough.”

  The three hockey players shook their heads. “Sorry, man,” said Quinton. “That’s all we know.”

  “You’re sure he didn’t kill himself?” said Norman.

  Carl shook his head. “Unless he had some undiagnosed depression or bipolar disorder or something.”

  Amelia said, “Harold’s a doctor. He would have noticed something was off. He’s trained in recognizing that stuff.”

  Norman was about to say something when the school bell rang.

  “We’ve got to get to class,” said Carl, holding out a hand. “It was great meeting you, Norman. Please solve this. Joel was a great guy. He deserves justice. If you need anything, let us know.”

  “I’ll find out what happened,” said Norman.

  Quentin smirked. “You know, with all the news about you being a slimebag, I was expecting you to be completely different. You’re a good guy, Norman.”

  The three hockey players receded into the throng of students moving toward the classroom building.

  “Wait,” said Norman suddenly.

  All three turned back toward him. Norman gestured for them to come closer.

  “What?” said Carl.

  “There is something you can help with,” said Norman.

  Carl nodded. “What can we do?”

  “Do you know Sam Hanson?”

  Carl frowned and then turned to Will and Quinton. “That’s the band geek, right?”

  Will nodded. “He’s in that band, Pocket Change. They played at the talent show.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “They were mediocre as hell. Damien put posters all over the school promoting their show as if they were the reincarnation of The Beatles.”

  Carl nodded. “Oh yeah, those losers.” He turned to Norman. “I give you my word, Norman Green, that we will find him. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “He knows something,” said Norman. “He ran from me.”

  They exchanged phone numbers, and the three hockey players receded into the school with the last of the stragglers heading back to c
lass.

  Norman turned to Amelia. “Shouldn’t you should go with them? It isn’t right that you’re missing so much school. You’ll fall behind.”

  Amelia smirked. “Did Detective Franklin get into your head? I’m part of this investigation, whether you like it or not. Did you forget what I said at the funeral?”

  Norman felt a chill go down his spine. “How could I?”

  “Then you know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Amelia turned toward the car. Norman’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

  Amelia looked down at the hand grabbing her arm. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to take you to class. If you don’t, I’m going to tell the teachers and your parents what you threatened to do.”

  Norman pulled Amelia toward the school.

  Amelia laughed.

  Norman stopped. “What are you laughing about?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” said Amelia, looking away.

  Norman stopped and turned back. “Tell me.”

  “I guess you just don’t want to find the killer.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Amelia grinned. “I guess you don’t want to know what Robin found out.”

  “You don’t know anything,” said Norman, although he wasn’t sure anymore.

  Amelia nodded. “I found her notebook. I’ve read everything Robin found out about Joel’s death. If you want to know what Robin found, you’re going to have to deal with me.”

  Norman let go of her arm and stood there, thinking.

  “You need to give me whatever information you have,” he said.

  “What if I don’t?” Amelia crossed her arms. “What if I only give you the information I deem necessary?”

  “What if you don’t have anything at all?”

  Amelia smirked. “This isn’t a bluff.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I don’t need to prove anything. Let’s go.”

  Amelia turned and walked back to the car. She climbed into the passenger seat and waved impatiently at Norman.

  Norman put his hands in his pockets and walked to the car. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he said, “You need to give me some proof. Anything.”

  Amelia thought for a moment. “We need to get the autopsy report.”

  “Robin’s autopsy?”

  “Joel’s, obviously. How would Robin have been investigating her own autopsy report?”

  “What about the autopsy report is important?”

  Amelia shrugged. “Robin knew the answer to that question. I don’t. She had a copy of it, and she had a note that she was meeting with someone to discuss. That’s all that was in her notebook.”

  “She didn’t have a copy of the autopsy?”

  “No.”

  Norman tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ll call my guy about getting it, though I think we’re pushing our luck. He said we couldn’t keep asking for files without drawing suspicion to himself.”

  “Robin had a way to get it.”

  “How?” Norman turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Maybe he wouldn’t need to call Vince.

  “She must have had a connection.”

  Norman nodded. “I know what we’re going to do. I need your help to pull it off.”

  Amelia looked up at him with a broad smile. She seemed almost giddy. “What do you need?”

  “This morning I received a call from Gary Thorne.”

  Amelia spun to look at him. “What the hell does he want?”

  “He wanted me to come into his office to have a chat.”

  “That’s weird,” said Amelia. “What do you need me to do?”

  “We’re heading there now. While I’m talking with Thorne, I need you to go to Robin’s desk or wherever they’re storing all her things. Find any information about the case that you can.”

  “Can I be seen?”

  Norman shrugged. “If anyone sees you, say you’ve come to collect Robin’s things. Bring a few things out with you, in case anyone gets suspicious.”

  Amelia smiled. “See, we make a great team. You would never be able to get access to Robin’s desk without my help. Are you going to admit this partnership is helpful?”

  Norman shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  Amelia smiled and looked at the houses they passed as they left the residential area and drove into downtown, where the offices of the Toronto Post were waiting for them.

  Chapter 25

  Norman and Amelia went into the offices of the Toronto Post and walked up to the secretary. He looked up at them and smiled.

  “Mr. Green,” he said. “It’s so nice that you were able to come. Mr. Thorne informed me you were coming. I will let him know you’ve arrived. Please take a seat.”

  “Thanks,” said Norman, sitting down. Amelia stepped up to the desk, as though they weren’t together and just happened to arrive at the same time. Norman picked up a magazine and started leafing through it, not reading anything while he listened to Amelia’s conversation.

  “Hey,” said Amelia, leaning over the desk. “My name is Amelia Sweetwater.”

  “Oh, geez,” said the secretary. “I should have known, you look just like Robin. What can I do for you, sweetie?”

  Amelia made a show of wiping a tear away. “I need to look through Robin’s things for some private documents. It’s to do with legal issues we’re having.”

  The secretary handed her a tissue. “Of course. You know where it is?”

  Amelia nodded. “Thanks.” She turned and walked through the doors leading into the newsroom.

  The secretary briefly spoke on the phone then hung up. “Come with me, Mr. Green.”

  Norman stood and followed him through the doors into the newsroom. It was abuzz with activity, and the sounds of printing presses and typing filled the room. Amelia was leaning over a desk in the corner. A few reporters looked up and nodded to Norman as he passed.

  “Here we are,” said the secretary, gesturing to the large office doors at the back of the room. There was a glass window to the right with the blinds drawn. “Go on in, Mr. Thorne is waiting for you.”

  “Thank you,” said Norman.

  The secretary grinned. “Good luck.”

  Norman turned to ask for clarification, but the secretary was walking back toward the front desk.

  Norman frowned then pushed open the door. Gary was sitting behind an immense oak desk, and the blinds were partially pulled shut against the sun. The office was covered in books and past editions of the newspaper. Gary didn’t look up from his computer as he gestured to a seat.

  After a few moments, he turned toward Norman and put his hands together. He wore an exquisite black suit that he clearly took pride in.

  “Norman Green, in the flesh,” he said. “I’ve read everything there is about you. I commissioned quite a few pieces about you during your scandal.”

  Norman crossed his arms. “I’m very aware of that fact. You dragged my name through the mud without any proof of what you were saying.”

  “Now, now, Norman.” Gary held up a hand. “It’s all water under the bridge now. We’re both in different parts of our lives. You seem like a very interesting fellow. If we had known each other better, perhaps I could have been in your corner when things went south.”

  Norman leaned back. “This isn’t about me. You wanted to talk about Robin.”

  “I did,” said Gary. “Can’t blame me for wanting to get to know you a little better. I got a tip this morning that you had been offered a tryout. Is there any truth to that?”

  Norman wondered who Gary’s source was. “I’m not taking it.”

  “Why not?” said Gary, raising an eyebrow.

  “Personal reasons.”

  Gary smiled. “You really are an interesting fellow, aren’t you, Norman? If you’re ever looking for a way to make a quick buck, I’m sure an exclusive interview with the Post would get you more than enough to keep your head above
water for a few months.”

  “You’re asking me to confess to you that I took steroids to get into the NHL?”

  “Didn’t you?” Gary raised an eyebrow.

  Norman took a deep breath. “I’m here in regards to Robin’s case, not to talk about myself.”

  “Alright,” said Gary after a long pause, “the reason that I called you here today is because Robin’s death is a tragedy, and I don’t like the detective in charge. Detective Franklin came in here a few days after the funeral and spoke with everyone. There was no passion in him, like he didn’t really care about the case. My lead crime reporter looked into it and found he has no significant leads. Detective Franklin is just there for a paycheck. Robin’s murderer must be brought to justice, no matter what, and that isn’t the kind of man to do it. You might be.”

  “Are you offering to help?”

  Gary nodded. “I am offering you complete access to any database the Post has, as well as access to our reporters and their sources. Whatever you need to solve Robin’s murder, I will oblige.”

  Norman thought about it. “What do you get out of it?”

  Gary sighed. He leaned over the desk and picked up a framed picture sitting on the edge of his desk. He looked at it for a moment and wiped a tear from his cheek.

  “My sister, Marie, passed away recently. She had a rare form of lung cancer. She had always been a health freak. Never smoked. Exercised six times a week. Ran marathons for fun. Her diagnosis was completely out of the blue. A strange mole the doctor noticed during a routine checkup. Everything spiraled out of control. Chemotherapy didn’t work, drugs didn’t work, and the procedures started getting more expensive, experimental, and riskier, with lower chances of success. She and her husband, Keith, didn’t have much money. I funded all of it. I’ve more or less gone bankrupt, and it was all for nothing.”

  Norman didn’t know what to say as Gary placed the frame back down on the desk.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s alright,” said Gary. He looked up at Norman. “I will do everything I can to make sure the person responsible for Joel and Robin’s death is brought to justice. Do you know why?”