Random Acts of Deceit (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 2) Page 2

  I started to pull it open but stopped myself. Instead, I leaned against the wood, my breaths coming in heavy gasps.

  I couldn’t run outside. I couldn’t call Chase for help.

  I couldn’t talk to anyone.

  My only choice was to stay here. I was alone and isolated from seeking help. Chase might have been my protector in the past, but now I was going to have to look out for him.

  That’s when reality hit and tears rushed to my eyes.

  Break up with Chase?

  I couldn’t do it. I’d never told him, but I was in love with the man. I couldn’t imagine not being with him. I couldn’t call things off between us.

  But what choice did I have?

  I squeezed the skin between my eyes as an ache formed there.

  Compose yourself, Holly. Get a grip. There’s got to be a solution. There’s always a solution. You just have to think outside the box. That’s what Dad had always told me. Of course, that was usually in reference to some household project and not a threat on the life of someone I loved.

  I drew in some deep breaths, knowing I couldn’t remain frozen here at the front door until Mom came home. That would be too suspicious. She would ask too many questions, and then I might spill everything that had happened.

  Of course, the man had only said not to tell Chase. I didn’t want to take the chance, though. Not with Chase’s life on the line.

  Speaking of the man . . . where was he? Up in my bedroom still?

  Moving quickly, I ran into the library and grabbed one of Dad’s old guns. He’d purchased it after a string of home invasions had littered the area several years back. Gathering every ounce of courage I owned, I crept back up the stairs with the weapon in hand.

  Did I really have the nerve to shoot this man? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t live with myself with all these questions hanging over my head. For all I knew, this intruder-slash-puppet-master could be setting up a bomb in my bedroom.

  It was better to face things head-on sometimes. At least, that’s what every Academy Award–winning movie I’d ever seen seemed to indicate.

  By the time I reached the top of the stairs, my heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I was sure I wouldn’t even hear an elephant sneak up on me. My hands trembled.

  I supposed I was no GI Jane. I’d never really had aspirations to be. All I’d wanted was to help people, truth be told. And that was kind of a crazy realization considering that I was holding a gun right now and toying with the idea of maiming someone.

  I paused outside my bedroom door. This was where I’d left the man. I hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. Since my bedroom was on the second floor, it would be hard for him to escape out the window. By all indications, he was still inside.

  I gripped the gun. After mentally counting to three, I pushed the door open.

  My trembles deepened as I swung the revolver around the room. Where was he?

  I hurried across my bedroom and flipped the lamp on.

  An empty room stared back at me. The lacy coverlet on my bed. The fake-fur rug. The whitewashed dresser.

  But no man.

  Where had he gone?

  With more than a touch of trepidation, I opened my closet door. No one.

  I searched under my bed. Nothing.

  Had the man moved to another part of the house? He must have.

  I crept down the hallway until I reached my mom’s room. Still gripping the gun like I was one of Charlie’s Angels, I slowly peered inside.

  The curtains there fluttered in the breeze.

  I ran to the open window.

  The man must have escaped that way. Onto the roof of the sunroom and down the trellis. It was the only thing that made sense.

  I sank to the floor as despair invaded me.

  How was I ever going to get out of this?

  All the optimism I was known for seemed to have vanished with the intruder.

  ***

  The next day, nausea gurgled in my stomach, and it wasn’t because it was Monday.

  Only a couple of weeks ago, I’d started working as a constituent services aide for my brother, Ralph, an Ohio state senator. Prior to this, I’d been a social worker, but I took this new position in hopes of extending my reach. I could focus on the bigger picture here and maybe help with overall reform.

  I was basically Ralph’s eyes and ears in the community. I went to meetings, talked to people on the street, corresponded with concerned citizens, and advised my brother.

  It was a change from working with people one-on-one, and there were times I really missed my old job. But I was happy to help Ralph. A former high school principal and school board member, he’d taken this position in a special election and was still adjusting to his new role.

  Ralph’s local office was located in downtown Cincinnati. We had about twelve staffers here, and right now most of us were sitting around the conference table talking about goals and objectives for this week.

  I tried to focus on the meeting, but I couldn’t. Last night kept replaying in my head. That’s where my nausea came in.

  When I’d awakened this morning after a few restless hours of sleep, I’d thought for sure this was all a nightmare. I tried to convince myself that my theory was true. I mean, what kind of person broke into someone’s home and told them to break up with their boyfriend? Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life.

  But my fear was so real that I knew the encounter really had transpired. I had some serious choices to make.

  “What do you think, Holly?”

  My brother’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I snapped my head toward him. Right now I wasn’t making a great first impression in a room full of cutthroat, career-oriented coworkers.

  I cleared my throat and straightened, realizing everyone at the conference table was staring at me. “What do I think about what?”

  Ralph eyeballed me. Hiring family was always tricky. I didn’t want to let him down right now, as I was surrounded by some of the brightest minds in the area, including a few who questioned my placement here. They’d rightly concluded that I was on the job because of my connections instead of through fighting my way to the top. I needed more blood, sweat, and tears to earn their respect.

  “I think it sounds like a great idea,” Henry Tell said.

  Saved by the Tell. That’s what people around the office called him—partly because of his last name, and partly because he’d tell you exactly what was on his mind, whether you wanted to hear it or not. Sometimes he wouldn’t stop telling you what he was thinking. Right now, the quality didn’t seem that bad, since he’d taken people’s attention off me.

  The meeting continued around me. I tried to pay attention, but I couldn’t wait until it was over. Twenty minutes later, it finally concluded.

  I tried to escape back to my cubicle, but Ralph called to me first. “Could I have a minute, Holly?”

  I sat back down and nodded. I went to grab my Styrofoam coffee cup and take a sip of the now-tepid drink. Maybe the usually comforting liquid would calm me. But, instead, I knocked the cup over. Brown liquid cascaded onto the table.

  “Well, this is just peachy.” I turned to grab some napkins from the condiment table behind me and collided with the Tell.

  “Whoa, Tiger,” he mumbled, gripping my arms and pushing us apart.

  I quickly stepped back, becoming even more frazzled with how frazzled I was. I reached around him for the napkins, grabbed a stack, and mopped up the liquid I’d spilled.

  I glanced up and saw Ralph staring at me, his eyes narrow behind his plastic-framed glasses. He knew I was rattled, but I had to keep the reasons why to myself.

  Nerdy cute. That’s how I’d heard people refer to him. He was my brother, so he obviously wasn’t cute at all to me with his sweater vests and strange affection for Sharpie markers. He was a widower who turned from a dedicated life as an educator to politics. Having a brother as a boss was interesting, to say the least.

  I tossed the napkins
into the trash just as everyone finished clearing out of the room—everyone but Ralph and me. My throat burned as I waited for his questions.

  He was my older brother—by eight years—and since Dad had died, he’d taken it upon himself to watch out for me. It was sweet . . . and sometimes annoying. But I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else. We’d been there for each other through thick and thin.

  “What’s going on, Holly?” He leaned against the conference table. Somehow, I felt like I’d been called into the principal’s office.

  I crossed my arms and reminded myself to look casual. But I couldn’t decide whether to lean nonchalantly against the conference table like Ralph, or if I should sit in one of the padded chairs, or even if I should just stand tall. I bounced back and forth between all three options, which only made me appear more neurotic.

  I finally stood and made the fatal mistake of touching my face. It was a surefire sign of my inner turmoil. Thank goodness, Ralph had never studied psychology, or he might have noticed.

  “I just have a lot on my mind,” I finally said, forcing my hands to remain at my sides and away from my face.

  “Problems between you and Chase?”

  “Problems?” I nearly snorted, but it wouldn’t have been ladylike. “No, we’re not having any problems. We—”

  I stopped myself. If I was going to break up with Chase, maybe I should sow some seeds to make it believable. One thing was very clear: I was a terrible liar. I considered it a gift because I really wasn’t tempted to tell untruths with my inability to do so convincingly—and the fact that lying was wrong, of course.

  But I didn’t want to sow seeds of doubt about our relationship. I didn’t want any of this. Couldn’t I just have a little break from stress and grief and tragedy? Apparently not. Just as one set of problems rolled out of my life, another set rolled in. My life was practically Tornado Alley in the spring.

  “We . . . what?” Ralph clarified, ever the good listener.

  I shook my head, trying to pull myself from the dismal thoughts that had cloaked me all morning.

  “We . . . may have a little disagreement,” I finally said, choosing my words carefully. It was true. Chase and I might have a disagreement in the future when I tried to break up with him. Chase knew me pretty well already, and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to convince him we shouldn’t be together. Or that I wanted to. I mean, we’d be going from bliss to doom. Our relationship wasn’t bipolar like that.

  This was all so confusing.

  “What’s going on, Hol?” Ralph sat fully on the table now, completely committed to our conversation. I had his full attention and his undivided focus.

  In other words, this was the last thing I wanted.

  “It’s nothing really. Just some stuff that Chase and I have to work out.”

  “I hope you do work it out, because you and Chase seem good for each other. I haven’t seen you this happy . . . well, maybe never.”

  His words were so bittersweet. I hadn’t ever been this happy, but the disaster looming on the horizon twisted my heart.

  “Thanks, Ralph. I appreciate it.” I glanced at my watch. “Speaking of Chase, we’re supposed to meet for lunch, so I should probably go.”

  He nodded and stood, as if his job was done. “I hope you two have a good time. I’ll see you afterward.”

  A good time? That was hard to envision, especially since I had some serious choices to make: break my heart or save the man I loved.

  CHAPTER 3

  As I took the short jaunt from my car to the Chinese restaurant where Chase and I were meeting, I studied every man I passed. I stole a glance at the men in business suits hurrying past on their lunch break or talking on their Bluetooth headsets. I snuck glances at the meter maid who hovered by the cars parallel parked on the street, at two urban-looking teens, and at three college-age boys talking baseball.

  Was some random stranger really going to ask me out? What was I going to say? And why? That was the thing: none of this made sense.

  I didn’t have enough information to fit together any of the pieces, how I played into this, or why someone might want to kill Chase.

  Maybe it was someone Chase had encountered through his police work. Or someone from his past. Or . . . I really had no idea.

  Whatever the reason, I had a feeling there was more to come. After all, if this had been just about hurting Chase through losing me, this threat would have ended after the breakup. But, instead, I was supposed to go out with someone else.

  By the time I’d wandered down the sun-drenched street and reached the restaurant, I’d nearly convinced myself that this was all a joke.

  There was no way someone could monitor everything I said. There was no way that man could possibly overhear a conversation between Chase and me at this restaurant. There were places I could go where Chase and I could talk privately and I could explain everything that was going on.

  All I had to do was ask Chase to play along. Then I could spare hurting him, as well as breaking my own heart and possibly getting the man I loved killed.

  Right?

  I felt better by the time I sat down inside. Not great. Not giddy. I was still apprehensive and distracted. But I’d begun to justify my decisions. There was a way out of this. A simple way. I just had to find a place to speak with Chase privately.

  Chase would know what to do next.

  I’d almost married the man. He’d been my first kiss. Honestly, he’d been my first crush back when we knew each other in high school. We’d both had some growing to do before we were ready for each other. That’s why, after almost ten years with no contact, we’d been placed back into each other’s lives.

  I’d seen my forever with the man, but we both knew he still had some demons from his past to work out before we could commit to each other. When Chase’s brother had been killed, Chase had turned to alcohol. That one act had ruined his first marriage and his career. Chase was trying to rebuild now, and I’d been happy to help him in the process.

  My heart lifted when I saw him enter the dimly lit restaurant. He wore a light-blue shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, and black slacks. If this moment had been a movie—an old, black-and-white movie would be my preference—stirring music would have been playing as a slow-motion sequence was cued. This was his entrance, the moment when the audience went wild because they’d been dying for the show’s star to make an appearance again.

  That’s how I felt, at least.

  If Chase had an Australian accent, he’d be a dead ringer for Chris Hemsworth of Thor fame. But it was more than Chase’s looks that got to me—I loved the man’s heart. His tough yet tender side. The way he made me feel so protected and safe and like a lady.

  He kissed my cheek before sitting across from me. I caught a quick whiff of his leathery aftershave, just enough to make me want more.

  “You look nice today,” he said.

  I looked down at my newly purchased vintage dress. It was olive green, but I’d paired it with a wide, black belt and a jean jacket. When I wasn’t trying to restore people and families, I really liked repurposing clothes and accessories. “Thank you.”

  He glanced at the menu on the white tablecloth. “Did you order yet?”

  “Not yet,” I told him. Truth be told, I wasn’t very hungry. My appetite had pretty much died a quick death after last night.

  “I don’t have much time because of a case I’m working on.” He raised the menu. “But I’m glad we could meet.”

  “Me too.”

  I picked up the menu, but the print wouldn’t come into focus. The next thing I knew, the waitress appeared at our table and Chase ordered something.

  “And for you, ma’am?”

  I swallowed hard, realizing I had to be more careful with my preoccupation. Chase would pick up on my unease too easily if I played it this way. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

  Chase gave me a strange look but said nothing. With our menus gone, he leaned across the table toward me
, and his hands covered mine. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

  I inhaled a deep breath, but it was uneven, like I was too eagerly sucking down air. I cut it off midway and forced a smile. “Nothing exciting. How about you?”

  “Trying to put out fires. Tensions are high after what happened with Officer Mackenzie a couple of weeks ago. The police are Public Enemy Number One around some parts of town.”

  A local cop had shot a teen who pulled a gun on him. Upon further examination, officials found that the gun was actually a toy. The incident had incited outrage in certain groups in the area, who called the act unjust, especially since the teen who’d been shot and killed hadn’t been doing anything wrong before the confrontation. Some said it was racial profiling. Others said the officer was simply trying to protect himself from a perceived threat.

  I pressed my lips together in a frown. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hate all the tension and wish I could think of a way to fix it.”

  “And that’s just one more thing to love about you, Holly Anna.”

  The depth of emotion in his eyes made me realize that I never wanted to let him go. Ever.

  His hand slipped under the table, and I saw him rubbing his knee. My throat tightened. That man last night . . . he’d said that Chase’s knee was hurting again. Could he be right?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying not to ask any leading questions.

  “Sometimes the old football injuries flare up again for no apparent reason.”

  My gut lurched with dread. The man had been right. How had he known that? He really was keeping an eye on Chase, wasn’t he? The cameras. The bomb. The private information he’d obtained.

  This wasn’t good.

  “I’ll be okay,” Chase said.

  Of course, he thought I was only worried about his knee. I wished that was my biggest worry.

  Our food came a few minutes later, and I stared at the General Tso’s chicken in front of me. I hated spicy food. No wonder Chase had given me a funny look.

  “Feeling brave today?” Chase raised an eyebrow as a look of amusement fluttered through his gaze.