Random Acts of Greed: Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries, Book 4

by Christy Barritt

  Translation: bleep, bleep bleep.

  My heart stammered in my chest. That didn’t sound good.

  Good riddance? Was he saying goodbye to Gage? To Katie? To both of them?

  The mystery surrounding Jonah’s mom continued to grow, and, at every turn, I seemed to have more questions and fewer answers.

  “Holly, check that out.” Jamie pointed in the distance.

  I looked up and saw that same sedan from earlier behind us.

  My muscles tensed as I realized we were being followed.

  Chapter 13

  “Why do people like following us so much?” I mumbled as I wove in and out of rush-hour traffic.

  “That’s a great question.” Jamie glanced behind us again, her earrings bobbing at the sudden motion.

  I pulled my gaze back to the road in front of me. “Can you see the driver?”

  “No, the windows are too dark. The good news is that the driver isn’t being aggressive.”

  “That is good news.” My hands tightened on the wheel. What should I do? Try to lose them? Try to turn the tables and follow them instead, in one of those the-hunted-becomes-the-hunter type of ways?

  I’d rather just be baking cookies.

  But was that the truth? You couldn’t prove it by my actions as of late.

  “Can you see the license plate?” I asked, trying to get as much information as possible. I glanced in the rearview mirror for long enough to see Jamie craning her neck.

  “I can’t make it out. Maybe slow down some.”

  I hesitated before easing my foot off the accelerator. Chase’s reprimand echoed in my head. Jonah. I had to think about Jonah.

  If it was just Jamie and me out here, I wouldn’t think twice about following every lead. But how did I do that while being responsible?

  With that thought, I pressed the accelerator again.

  “You’re speeding up?” Jamie asked.

  “I can’t let whoever that is get too close,” I said. “Not if it puts Jonah in danger.”

  “Follow your gut. Like I said, the driver isn’t being aggressive right now, but we don’t want to do anything to change that.”

  My heart slowed slightly. I just needed to get to safety. Or lose them. I needed to lose them safely.

  Was it Katie following us? After all, she’d most likely left that note that day at the coffeehouse. Or what if it was Heathcliff, if he was desperate to get back the baby whom he thought was his flesh and blood. Maybe he knew a judge would never award him custody. I was making assumptions here, but he could very likely have a criminal history.

  With those thoughts, I turned onto a side street. The move was risky because this area was more secluded. But it would also expose the driver following me. I hoped it might dissuade this person from continuing any farther.

  The tension threaded in my neck pulled tighter as I glanced in the rearview mirror.

  Would the driver follow? Or had my plan worked?

  The air left my lungs when I realized the car had continued straight.

  Thank goodness, they hadn’t followed us.

  We were safe. For now.

  How did I ensure it stayed that way?

  The next morning was the home inspection.

  I’d been pleasantly surprised to find that Ralph had purchased a crib. He’d set it up in the spare bedroom when I was gone yesterday. He’d also bought a little green dinosaur rattle that Jonah was now obsessed with. It was just the right size to hold in his hand and stare at, try to gum, and hit himself in the face with.

  I hadn’t been sure which social worker would be assigned to my case, but I was happy to see Bethany Ellis show up. I’d worked with her a few times, and I thought she was kind and fair, two traits that were essential in social work. The woman was young—probably twenty-four—and she had a slim build, light-brown hair to her shoulders, and glasses.

  She’d walked through the house and examined every little nook and cranny—and that was only after she’d loved on Jonah for a little while.

  Finally, she paused at the front door. “Well, everything looks good.”

  Relief washed through me. “Great. I’m not sure why I was so nervous.”

  “I’m sure everyone is a little nervous. It’s the people who aren’t nervous who make me suspicious.” She offered a gentle smile. “I have to admit, I didn’t know you lived with your mom still. It’s a bit of an unusual situation for a foster mom.”

  It was true. My mom had to go through the whole approval process with me. Sometimes I wondered if I would have been approved if I hadn’t been a social worker. The situation wasn’t exactly traditional.

  “I’ll move out eventually. I was about to when my father passed away, and it made me sad to think about my mom being in this big house all by herself.”

  Bethany nodded and tilted her head. “I understand. You have the rest of your life to be on your own, right?”

  “That’s right.” Sometimes I did have dreams about owning my own home. I pictured how I would decorate it and what I would plant in my garden and hosting parties.

  My mother wasn’t as fragile as I thought she was. I knew that. But if I could do anything to ease her grief, I wanted to do that.

  I paused near the door with Jonah on my hip. I didn’t want to ask my next question, mostly because I was afraid of the answer. But I knew I couldn’t remain in the dark, that it wouldn’t be healthy.

  “Now that you know the name of Jonah’s mother, will you be looking for extended family for guardianship?” As soon as I asked the question, I wanted to snatch it back. Time seemed to stand still as I waited for her answer.

  “As I’m sure you know, placement with the family is usually our first choice. However, we’re working off the assumption that the baby’s mother wanted you to watch him—provided she’s the one who actually left him. It’s really too early to know how all of this will play out.”

  She glanced at Jonah and smiled. “You do look good with a baby on your hip, by the way.”

  I felt my cheeks heat. “Thanks.”

  Her smile faded when her gaze met mine again. “But you do remember our mantra to get attached but not too attached?”

  I swallowed hard and pulled Jonah a little closer. “Of course. I’ve said that many times.”

  And never, ever realized just how truly difficult it would be.

  After Bethany left, I walked back into the kitchen to meet my mom.

  “Well, that went well,” she started, taking a sip of her tea.

  “Did you hear that we discovered who Jonah’s mom is?”

  She nodded. “I did hear something about it. Tell me about her.”

  I shrugged and sat down, pulling my hair away from Jonah’s mouth. He studied me, and I had to force myself to look away from his baby blues. “I don’t know much. Her name is Katie Edwards.”

  “You didn’t recognize her?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really. I mean, she seems vaguely familiar but . . .”

  “What does she look like?”

  I handed Jonah to my mom, grabbed the tablet from the table, and found Katie Edwards’ picture via social media. I showed it to Mom, and she studied the photo a moment.

  “You know who she reminds me of?”

  “No idea.”

  “Katie Mallard from youth group when you were growing up.”

  “Katie Mallard?” I nearly snorted at the absurdity of her statement. Until I looked more closely at the picture. I supposed there were similarities. But . . . “They have different last names. And this Katie isn’t married.”

  “But has she ever been married?”

  That was a great question. I didn’t know the answer, and I hadn’t thought to ask.

  “The Katie from high school youth group has a slightly different nose. Lighter hair. And she was heavier.”

  “So she had a nose job, dyed her hair, and lost weight. It wouldn’t be that unusual.”

  I looked at the picture again and tried to picture the ch
anges. Could my mom be right? I couldn’t say she was, but I couldn’t say she wasn’t either.

  “It just wouldn’t make sense, Mom,” I muttered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That Katie hated me. Don’t you remember all the nasty things she used to say? Holly Anna the Pollyanna? Ms. Perfect. Ms. Hoity Toity. Ms. Prim and—”

  Mom raised her hand. “I get it. And I do remember she gave you a hard time. She was . . . kind of troubled, right?”

  I tried to remember all the details. “That’s right. Her dad was out of the picture. Her mom was a drug addict. She started coming to church with Karla Maples—who was also slightly troubled.” By troubled I just meant they had a hard home life and dealt with many of the difficulties that came with that, sometimes in less than positive ways.

  I’d tried to reach out and befriend both Katie and Karla, but they’d had no interest in being my friend. In fact, I thought they liked antagonizing me. They always whispered when I was around, scoffed at things I said during group discussions, and made sure there was no room for me at our church’s lunch table at an area-wide youth event.

  I’d tried my best to ignore the duo, and I had some great friends in youth group, which had made it easier.

  But Katie had acted like she hated me. Hated me.

  If this was the same Katie—and with every minute that passed I became more certain of that fact—why had she chosen me to take care of her baby? Or was the social worker right—what if someone else had left Jonah?

  The front door opened and someone yelled, “Hey, everyone!”

  I recognized Alex’s voice. Besides, only a handful of people came in without invitation.

  She appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later, tall and well put together. That was my sister, Alex, for you. An overachiever to the max, just like the rest of my family.

  Except my dad.

  I was more like my dad, and I missed him every day since he’d died.

  Alex dropped some mail on the table and turned all of her attention on Jonah. While Mom filled her in, I ruffled through the letters. I stopped by one addressed to me. I slid my nail beneath the fold and popped it open.

  When I saw what was inside, I frowned.

  “What is it?” my mom asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s . . . it’s nothing. Just an invitation to another baby shower.”

  “You love stuff like that!”

  I nodded, my heart surprisingly burdened. “I do. I really do. And I’m happy for Harper and her husband. They’re going to be great parents.”

  “Then why do you look so melancholy?” Alex asked, stealing a raspberry cheesecake cookie and sitting down.

  “I guess all of this,” I motioned toward Jonah and the invitation, “is stirring some buried feelings inside me.”

  “You’re realizing your biological clock is ticking? Just think: I’m ten years older. Can you imagine how I feel?” Alex gave me a pointed look.

  “I can only imagine.” And that made me wonder if Alex and William were trying to have a baby. The thought was strange to me only because assistant district attorney Alex and her surgeon husband had always been so career oriented. I’d just assumed that neither wanted any children.

  And then there was Ralph. His first wife had died tragically in a car accident after only six months of marriage. He hadn’t really dated anyone since.

  My mom might be waiting a long time before she actually became a grandma.

  “Oh, Holly.” My mom held Jonah up and scrunched her nose. “I smell a dirty diaper. It looks like Jonah left a present for you. Welcome to motherhood!”

  Chapter 14

  The weather turned out to be surprisingly balmy today. Even though it was January, the day crept up into the fifties as a mini-warm front pushed into the area. Forecasters said it would only be temporary and the weather would be cold again tomorrow.

  I wasn’t complaining.

  I needed to clear my head, so I loaded Jonah into the stroller and decided to take a walk. I headed toward a park not terribly far away, figuring I might as well enjoy this weather. Most children would be in school during this hour.

  Jonah smiled at me as I pushed him, and my heart melted a little more. It was going to be hard when he wasn’t with me anymore. Though he’d only been under my care since Sunday, I was finally feeling more comfortable and adjusted to caring for a baby. He’d slept all night yesterday, and life was beginning to feel halfway normal.

  I reached the park—a little hillside area with a few swings, a slide, and an open field for kids to play flag football—and I sat on a bench in the sunshine, which made me feel about ten degrees warmer. I gently eased the stroller back and forth, trying to keep Jonah happy while telling him stories about playing here myself as a child.

  About how my dad would bring me here and see how high he could push me on the swing, which would then freak out my mother. I remembered having a family reunion at a sheltered picnic area here one year where we’d had watermelon eating contests and laughed until our sides hurt. It had been one of the few times I could remember my mother letting down her hair. She was usually prim, proper, and reserved.

  Jonah listened to every word I said, even responding with little gurgles and grunts. “You’re just the most handsome little man ever,” I whispered, brushing his cheek. He grabbed my hand in response and tried to bring it into his mouth.

  Something was changing in me. It seemed weird, and I didn’t know what it was. But, whatever it was, it was there, nagging at my subconscious.

  Maybe it was because I was approaching thirty. Maybe something internal was telling me it was time for my next phase in life. Time for me to grow up. To make—and achieve—some new life goals. To stop living like I was right out of college.

  The thoughts seemed so foreign. For the past couple of years, I’d had no doubt that I was supposed to stay at home with my mom so we could grieve together. I’d taken each phase of life as it came—including giving up my career in social work to work for my brother.

  But now I wanted a place of my own, a family, trips to Disney together, and backyard barbecues.

  Maybe I’d been in denial. Maybe I’d try to insist to myself that I was okay with where I’d been. But Jonah had awakened something in me.

  Before I could mourn my lost dreams anymore, someone sat down on the bench beside me. The woman must have come up behind me, because I hadn’t even seen her approaching. As I scooted over to give her room, I did a double take.

  I’d seen this woman somewhere before, I realized.

  Around the neighborhood? No.

  Then where?

  At the crime scene yesterday.

  At Katie’s house.

  She was the woman standing at the police tape, the one who’d caught my eye because of her nervous glances.

  My muscles tightened when I realized her presence here was no accident. She nervously twisted her hands in her lap, sat up straight, and stared ahead. The air between us seemed to change.

  Was she dangerous?

  I scooted the stroller to the other side of me and lifted up a quick prayer for safety.

  Dear Lord, watch over us.

  Was it too late for me to run? To call for help?

  “I need your help,” the woman whispered, still staring straight ahead.

  My fingers tightened around the handle of the stroller. “Do I know you?”

  She pressed her lips together, each of her actions stoic and almost robotic. “I saw you yesterday. At the crime scene. You were talking with the detective like you knew him.”

  My uneasiness grew deeper, fiercer. “How’d you know I was here?”

  She shrugged, her hands still twisting nervously in her lap. “I followed you. I didn’t have any other choice. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get in touch otherwise.”

  The tension continued to grow in me. She’d been following me? How had I not noticed that? And why were all these people following me lately?

  “Are you t
he one in the sedan?” The sedan that had been everywhere. In front of my house. At Club 21. Who knew where else?

  “In the sedan?” She shook her head. “I drive a red compact. As soon as I figured out where you lived, I stopped following you because I didn’t want to creep you out.”

  Too late!

  “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Violet.”

  Violent Violet. It rhymed. But that wasn’t a sign, I reminded myself. Just a coincidence. Assumptions weren’t good manners, but in an emergency situation, all those rules went out the window.

  “What do you need my help with, Violet?” My throat clenched until I could hardly breathe. I honestly hadn’t thought coming to the park would be dangerous. In fact, I thought the fresh air would be good for me, for Jonah.

  I scanned the street, looking for Officer Truman’s car. Of course, I didn’t see it.

  The woman’s gaze darted around, some of her porcelain-doll-like façade cracking. “My brother died a month ago. It was . . . authorities said it was a suicide.”

  “How horrible. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. His name was Bo. He worked in advertising and loved rock climbing.”

  I waited for her to continue. She still stared straight ahead, and that was when I wondered if she was battling grief or fear? Or maybe both?

  “Bo was diagnosed with cancer two years ago. He had some horrible surgeries, some dreadful treatments, and a grueling recovery. He was eventually cancer free. But afterward he was different. The experience changed him.”

  I could understand that. When the doctor had told me I had a year to live, something had clicked inside me also. I wasn’t the same person today as I was twelve months ago.

  “I see,” I told her.

  “I thought at first that it was just the whole experience of nearly dying that was making him act differently. But then, it went beyond that. He was secretive. Behaving strangely. I think he got caught up in something. I think he got in over his head.”

  “Like what?” I continued rocking the stroller back and forth, hoping Jonah stayed happy until I finished this conversation. Violet had hooked me and reeled me in.