Random Acts of Murder: A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 1 (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries) (17 page)

CHAPTER 27

The next morning, first thing, I stopped by to talk to Anthony’s mom. She was still distraught, but she seemed happy to see me.
We’d always had a good relationship. She’d been a mess when I first met her, but the possibility that her kids could be taken away from her had been a huge wake-up call. The ongoing visits from her new CPS caseworker helped to keep her in line. Most importantly, those visits ensured that her kids’ well-being was as it should be.

“How are you doing, Bernice?”

She shrugged. “I’m hanging in. This just should never happen. I prayed every day that my kids wouldn’t be some of the ones I heard about on the news. Now look. That’s exactly what happened.”

I squeezed her hand. “I can’t even imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

“My other children are the only things that keep me going. I know they’re all depending on me.”

I nodded. “
You’re right. They do need you. That’s very wise that you realize that. Are they handling this okay?”

“Mercedes cries herself to sleep. She was the closest to Anthony.”

We talked for a few more minutes about the kids. I gave her some tips and encouragement, and I lifted up prayers for the family.

“
Bernice, do the police have any leads as to who did this?”

She
shook her head. “Not that I know of. Like they’d tell me.”

“I know there are certain things they can’t say, not until they
know something for sure.” I paused. “Did Anthony and Dewayne know each other?”

Bernice nodded. “I’d seen them together a few times.”

I leaned closer. “What do you think’s going on, Bernice?”

She shrugged again, her eyes looking vacant and grief
stricken. “I’m not sure. Cena keeps coming up. I’m pretty sure the police think it’s connected with these murders.”

“What do you think?”

“I think that drugs can make people do crazy things.” She shifted.

There was something she wasn’t tell
ing me, I realized.

“Bernice, what’s going on? You have suspicions about something, don’t you?”

She wiped under her eyes. “Holly, you’ve always been so kind to us.”

“Let me help you now. You know you can trust me, right?”

She sniffled. “I found some things.”

“What kind of things?”

“TVs, phones, other electronics. Some jewelry.”

I tried to follow where she was going with this, but I still wasn’t sure. “Where did you find them?”

“Anthony put them in our shed. I found them after he died.”

“You think he stole them?”

A small sob escaped, and she nodded. “I do. I think they were stealing them—”

“They?”

“Anthony and Dewayne. I think they were stealing things, selling them, and using the money to buy drugs.”

My heart sped. “Did you tell the police this?”

She shook her head. “I was afraid they’d point the finger at me. That my kids would be taken away.” Her bloodshot eyes met mine. “You’re not going to take my kids away, are you?”

I shook my head. “No. But I do think you should mention this to the police. They want to catch the person who did this, and information like this can help. But it’s somehow tied in with the murder.”

She stared at me a moment, uncertainty in her eyes. “You really think that?”

I nodded. “
Since I’m the former investigator here, I can explain the situation. But only if you want me to.”

Finally, she nodded. “Okay, if you think that would be best.”

**
*

I stopped by the station, asked for Chase, and was escorted to his desk.

He and T.J. seemed to be talking rather heatedly about something as I approached. They both backed off from each other when they spotted me, but I could feel the tension between them.

“Holly. What brings you here?” Chase said. His voice sounded tighter than usual.

“I just talked to o
ne of my clients,” I started. “She said a couple of things that I thought might help.”

“Let me
guess—these things point the finger away from you?” T.J. sneered.

“I’m not the one who
volunteered to help here. The chief asked,” I reminded him.

“Don’t talk to her like that, T.J.” Anger simmered in Chase’s voice.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew I had to somehow douse this fire between the two men before things got out of control.

I raised my hands. “I can handle this.” I turned to T.J. “If you don’t want my help, I’ll leave. I don’t have a personal stake in this. I have many other ways I can spend my time.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me. Maybe then we can all remain a little more objective here.” He cast a searing glance at Chase.

“You need to back off,” Chase warned.

“Why? You going to lose it again, just like you did back in Louisville?” T.J. baited.

Chase’s face turned red. “You don’t know what
you’re talking about.”

“I have friends on the force down there. I know what a hothead you were.”

“I don’t try to hide the fact that I had a drinking problem, T.J. But that’s not who I am anymore.”

“So, I’m supposed to rely on you? Someone who might go off the deep end and turn back to the bottle?”

“You’re out of line,” I said.

A couple of other officers stopped what they were doing and watched the scene in the middle of the office.

“If you don’t trust me, request a new partner,” Chase continued. “I’ve made peace with my past.”

“Maybe that’s your problem. Overconfidence.
We come across one crime that reminds you of your brother, and you’re going to be back where you started.”

“Leave him out of this,” he muttered.
His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

“If you can’t handle this conversation, then how are you going to handl
e seeing it happen in real life?”

“That’s enough!” Chase lunged toward T.J.

T.J. charged back.

Before they could get any further, the other officers surrounded them, pulled them apart.

“What’s going on here?” a man demanded, emerging from a corner office.

The two men continued to glare at each other, their comrades in arms holding them back.

“Anyone care to explain?” The police captain—at least, that’s who I thought it was—stared at everyone.

I stepped back,
my heart pounding in my ears.

“Both of you. In my office. Now.”

Chase shrugged out of the grasp of the men on either side of him, cast one more scowl at T.J., and then stomped to the office.

This was my cue to leave. Now.

I was only sorry I’d ever come.

CHAPTER 28

I couldn’t get the argument out of my head.

The things T.J. had said to Chase were just vicious. He’d been egging Chase on. But why?

Beyond that superficial skimming of the situation
, the greater question remained: Was there any truth in T.J.’s words? I knew something had happened in Louisville. I just didn’t know the extent of it.

The questions haunted me for the rest of the day. I went through my ca
seload, but almost as if I was on autopilot. By the time I finished, exhaustion pulled me down, reminding me that I needed to rest.

But, for some reason, when work was over, I found myself standing on Chase’s doorstep with a pizza in my hands.
I’d gotten his address from my mom, who was the world’s best card sender ever. Yes, she still used snail mail, but that also meant she had people’s physical addresses.

I knew
Chase was home because I saw his truck in the driveway. I could only imagine after what had happened that the commander might have told him to cool it for the rest of the day.

Hopefully
, he’d told T.J. the same thing.

I knocked at the door, gathering every bit of grace and etiquette in me. A moment later, Chase jerked the door open, a scowl on his face. The lines around his eyes softened some when he saw me. Not that I noticed.

“Holly,” he mumbled. “What are you doing here?”

I thrust the pizza at him. “I knew you had a rough day. I thought some pizza might cheer you up.
It has gluten, but you eat that, so it’s no problem.”

Shut up, Holly.
Why in the world was I blathering like a nervous fool?

He stared at the box for a moment before finally taking it. He stepped back and extended his arm behind him. “Want to come in?”

Against my better sensibilities, I stepped inside. His place looked like a typical bachelor pad with minimalist decorations. A Reds poster was the only thing on the wall behind a sofa, blinds the only window covering, and old plastic crates served as end tables.

“You didn’t have to come.”

I brushed an imaginary crumb off my dress and offered a smile. “I know.”

He shut the door and turned to me.
His normal shirt and tie were gone. Instead, he wore an old football T-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest, along with some faded jeans. He looked . . . how should I say it? Nice. Very, very nice.

“I’m sorry you had to see that
at the station, Holly.” Regret stained his voice.

“I’m sorry that happened.”

He stared at me a moment before nodding toward the kitchen. “Why don’t we go sit?”

I followed him inside, put the pizza on the kitchen table, and sat across from him.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water’s great.”

He grabbed two bottles from the fridge, twisting the cap off mine before handing it to me. The pizza remained in the box between us. Truth be told, I wasn’t that hungry.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Holly,” he started.
He sat across from me, his eyes dull and his demeanor heavy.

“We all have.”

He shook his head. “I snapped after my brother died. I became obsessed. I ended up losing my job and ruining my marriage.”

“Your marriage?” I asked.

He nodded. “I was married for two whole years. I should have never said ‘I do.’ I was uncertain before saying my vows, but I knew Peyton was ready.”

“What happened?”

“We married when I was playing professional football. That career only lasted a year, until I had my knee injury. By that point, she was into living a lifestyle we could no longer afford. I became a cop. She was a hairdresser. She wanted expensive clothes, trips to the Caribbean, a house we didn’t have enough money to buy.”

“I know marriage can be challenging. All of them are.”

He stared off into the distance. “After my brother died, I hardly came home. I was just always looking for answers. My anger was growing. I came home one day, and Peyton was gone. I didn’t even go after her. That’s how obsessed I was. I’d started drinking to numb my pain.”

“You never did find his killer. What happened with Peyton?”

“She filed for divorce. She’s remarried now. I haven’t really kept up with her, but I hope she’s happy. If I could go back and do things over again, I would. But we don’t have that luxury, do we?”

“We sure don’t.
We just have to learn from the past.”

He shook his head and looked down at his hands a moment. “To be honest, I don’t feel like I ever deserve a chance at certain things again—like love. I messed up big
-time. I became the person I’d vowed not to be.”

“Everyone deserves another chance. Everyone should be able to learn from their mistakes.”

“You’re a good listener, Holly.” He offered a small, grateful smile. “I think you’re in the right profession.”

“I love helping people. It’s what God created me to do.” I took a sip of my water. “How’d you turn your life around, Chase?”

“I hit rock bottom. Lost my wife. My job. Most of my friends. I still had no answers. The police chaplain at the station was the only person who had the guts to confront me about what a mess my life had become. He got me into a faith-based addiction recovery program. I started going to church. It was a slow process, and every time I wanted to give up, this guy—Josh was his name—he’d show up and he wouldn’t let me go back.”

“Sounds like a great guy.”

“A godsend, for sure.” He let out a long sigh. “So, as you can see, there was some truth to T.J.’s words. I could be a ticking time bomb.”

“Or you could be a reformed soul who’s on the straight and narro
w. Even people who are changed still make mistakes. You have to accept that. Otherwise, you’ll be devastated when you mess up.” Part of my internship had been in a drug and alcohol rehab center where I’d led group therapy sessions. I wasn’t saying all of this as someone who hadn’t seen the devastating effects of addiction. I knew they could destroy people’s lives. But I also knew the addictions were entirely possible to overcome.

“Thank
s, Holly. I always feel better after I talk to you. You have that effect on people.”

“Jamie always says my superpower is kindness.”

Chase smiled. “Sounds like a nice superpower.”

I rubbed my hands together. “There was another reason I stopped by. I talked to Anthony’s mom today, and she said something interesting. I’m not sure if it will help you or not, but I thought I’d let you figure that out.”

“Okay.”

“I guess both Anthony and Dewayne had been stealing things from local homes and selling them at pawnshops to try and get some extra money. Probably for drugs. She actually showed me some of the items she’d found in the shed behind her house. She hid them before the police found them.”

“Why would she do that?”

I shook my head. “Fear? It’s like you said—there are segments of the population that have a hard time trusting the police. She thought you might somehow turn this around and make her out to be guilty. She didn’t want her kids to be taken away from her.”

“She still has the items?”

I nodded.

“I’ll see if she’ll let me see them. There could be a link, depending on who they stole from. I know there’s been a rash of robberies around here lately.”

“That’s what I was thinking.
Maybe Anthony and Dewayne made the wrong person mad. That’s why I stopped by the station earlier. I thought you’d want to know.”

“This Good Deeds Killer is a real mystery.” Chase
stood and paced across the room to the window. “I’ve never seen a case like this. What is he trying to say by cleaning? That he took the victim to the cleaners? Is he making a point to let us know that he’s wiped everything down, that there’s no evidence?”

I found myself standing and walking toward him. I stood a safe distance away, far enough that I wasn’t in his space.
“That doesn’t seem like something someone involved in a spontaneous act of violence would do.”

“You’re right. That’s why I think these crimes were
premeditated. I think the killer is meticulous, I think he knew what he was doing, and I think he wants to make a statement.”

“Doesn’t sound like anyone I’d want to come across.”
Familiar guilt pounded at me. Would this be the time to tell Chase my part in all of this? We’d just shared such a poignant moment. He’d opened up. He’d said nice things about me.

One confession and any nice feelings he had toward me would all come crashing down.

“I hate to think that you’re somehow connected to this lunatic.”

I could hardly swallow. “Yeah, me too.”

He looked at me, something changing in his gaze. Was he considering the fact that I could be guilty? Trying to figure out how to break the news to me that he suspected I was involved?

“I know this sounds lame, Holly, but you’re going to make some guy very happy one day.”

I let out the breath I held. My relief was instantly replaced with sorrow, though. It didn’t look like I was ever going to have the opportunity for that to happen.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “But I don’t think that’s
even a remote possibility.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged, all my reasons colliding inside my head. Which one was I allowed to share again? “Just a gut feeling.”

“Holly, you’re beautiful. You’re sweet. You’re smart.
You’re what every guy wants in a wife. I’m surprised guys aren’t knocking down your door.”

His words caused me to flush
. “Thank you. It’s hard to explain. I’ve been on dates. I can usually tell after the third or fourth date if I’ve found ‘the one.’”

He leaned closer, a
grin tugging at his lips. “The one? To me, it sounds like someone has high standards.”

I shrugged, not letting myself be goaded.
“There’s nothing wrong with standards.”

“There is when high standards become unreachable ideals.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t know me as well as you think, Chase Dexter.”

I started to pull back when he grabbed my arm. His thumb stroked
my wrist. Suddenly all of my senses were on alert. My breathing became shallow as our gazes caught.

“You know me pretty well. At least the equivalent of three or four dates,” he mumbled.

Was it just me or was his face getting closer?

I swallowed, my throat burning. His thumb continued to stroke my arm, sending flurries of electricity scrambling over my skin. “I’d say so.”

His hand traveled up my arm to my neck. His fingers splayed there, his touch so warm and comforting that I closed my eyes.

“So if we’d been dating, would you have cut me loose by now?”

I opened my eyes. His face was mere inches from mine. Any smart-aleck response left my mind. Totally and completely.

Then his lips covered mine, slowly, smoothly, hesitantly. When I didn’t pull back, he pulled closer. His other hand wrapped around my waist, and my hands reached for his neck.

And for a moment—and just a moment—all of my worries disappeared.

But when they reappeared, they hit me with the force of a hurricane. I couldn’t fall in love. Especially not with Chase Dexter. Especially not when I was going to die in a few months. Especially not when I
could potentially be the prime suspect in his first case as a detective.

I ripped away, tears flooding my eyes. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Holly, wait—”

I didn’t stop to listen to h
im. I grabbed my purse and fled.

What had I done?