Number two, go out with someone else, but don’t tell Chase. Act like we broke up while never actually breaking up. It was two-faced and fake, and I didn’t like either of those things.
Number three, break up, save his life, but crush both of our hearts. Was that really my only option?
I sighed. What was I missing here?
The clock finally hit five, and I put my pencil down. It was time to leave. I hadn’t gotten much accomplished today anyway. I should have skipped going back to work because my mind was too far gone.
I drove to Jamie’s favorite pizza place, a gluten-free joint where she could indulge in healthy food options and secretly squirt vinegar into her water because of all the “amazing health benefits it provided.”
She’d lost one hundred pounds not long ago, and she’d had a different perspective on eating ever since. She was in love with coconut oil, made her own sprouted-grain bread, and had practically invested in one of her favorite almond-flour companies. I was happy to see her feeling so well about herself.
Jamie was already at the restaurant, simply named Joseph’s, when I arrived. I slid across the glittery upholstery and into the booth across from her. The place smelled like fresh bread and gooey cheese, but the normally alluring scents had no impact on me now. My stomach was in too much upheaval.
In the middle of the Beastie Boys singing about fighting for the right to party, Jamie blurted, “You look like death.”
Leave it to my BFF to get right to the point. “Thanks.”
“You didn’t decide to do extreme random acts of kindness again, did you?” She cocked a black eyebrow, her face full of expression as usual. I always said she looked like mocha-colored sunshine. Her curly hair sprang away from her face like rays flowing from the sun, and her countenance always looked bright and full of life.
We’d met freshman year of college and had been inseparable since then. I thought God sent her to me, and because of that I didn’t take her friendship for granted. We’d been through a lot together and had always stood by each other.
Back to her question.
It was true that I’d gotten myself in a bit of trouble when I’d thrown caution to the wind and engaged in some extreme random acts of kindness not long ago. “No, I did not indulge in random acts of kindness again. I learned my lesson back in February, thank you very much. I now try to do purposeful and forthright acts of kindness instead.”
She let out a sassy “um-huh” that indicated she didn’t quite believe me. “So what’s going on? Did that car bomb shake you up?”
I swallowed hard, knowing I had an honest excuse for my behavior. The fiasco outside the Chinese restaurant had shaken me, even though the issue went deeper than that. “Yes, it did.”
She leaned toward me and lowered her voice. “Any idea who’s behind it? You have the inside scoop?”
Even though Jamie was my best friend, I knew better than to say too much to this newspaper reporter. I didn’t want to put her in a difficult situation, one where she had to choose between the story of her life and her friendship with me. Though I felt fairly certain she would choose me, I tried to avoid causing uncomfortable dilemmas whenever possible. It was the ladylike thing to do.
“Chase hasn’t told me anything yet. It’s too soon to speculate, I suppose.”
“Oh, it’s never too soon for speculation. Speculation is the fun part.” She grinned, but the expression slipped quickly. “I wonder if it’s related to the impending riots?”
“The impending riots?”
“That’s the rumor after what happened with that police officer. Some people are calling for protests against the police.”
What if that was what all of this was about? Maybe someone had retaliated against the police by planting that bomb.
But that wouldn’t explain the text I’d received.
Just then, the pizza arrived. Jamie didn’t have to ask me what I wanted. We’d been here enough that she could order for us. I sacrificed my true preference in favor of her gluten-free pizza loaded with mushrooms, peppers, and onions. It actually didn’t taste bad, all things considered.
Jamie began dishing out slices, melted cheese creating long strings between the pan and plate. “So, are you ready for your sister’s wedding next Friday?”
I shrugged and snagged a wayward green pepper that had been browned in the oven. The brown ones were the best. “I guess. Speaking of which, I have to get everything done for her bachelorette party. Being the maid of honor is quite involved.”
“I’m sure everything will be perfect. You’re good at making things elegant and classy. It’s your superpower.” She widened her eyes dramatically.
“If only I actually had superpowers . . .” I muttered. Then I wouldn’t be in the pickle I was in. Actually, pickle was too nice an expression. Unless it was a monstrous, flesh-eating pickle from a sci-fi movie.
Jamie twisted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Now what does that mean?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Not really. I mean, don’t we all wish we could snap our fingers sometimes and solve our problems. The world’s problems, for that matter.”
“I think you just gave me an idea for a new comic. Forget a career in journalism. I’ll be the next Stan Lee instead. My character will be a beauty queen who gets her wish of world peace. The possibilities are endless.”
We prayed over our food before digging in. Well, Jamie dug in, and I picked off some vegetables and munched on them.
“We’ve been friends for a long time, Holly. It’s obvious something is on your mind. Is it just that car bomb, or is something else going on?” She pulled a tiny flask from her purse and poured it into her water.
“Are you spiking your drink?” I shrieked.
She gave me a “duh” face. “You know me better than that. It’s vinegar. Turns out, you shouldn’t leave it in plastic because the acidity can break it down. Then I found this aluminum flask, and I knew it was perfect.”
“People are going to think you’re a drunk.”
She shrugged. “Let them think whatever they want.”
I smiled. The girl was addicted to vinegar, but there were worse things to crave.
“So, what’s on your mind?” She picked up exactly where she’d left off in our conversation.
How I longed to pour everything out to my friend. Jamie always had great advice, and I knew she could help me make sense of this mess. Was there any way I could cryptically tell her what was going on? I could speak in code or even pig latin, if I thought that would work. Maybe I could just be vague and somehow express the direness of the situation.
“Jamie, you wouldn’t believe me. I know this sounds far-fetched, but the other night—”
“Hey, it’s the Mustang girl!” someone said beside me.
I slowly turned my head toward the voice, knowing before my gaze connected with the person speaking who it was.
“You . . .” I muttered. Yes, it was the businessman who’d hopped into my Mustang and started it before I could stop him.
The man grinned. “I don’t think I actually gave you my name. I’m Benjamin Radcliff.” He extended his hand.
I stole a quick glance at Jamie before begrudgingly extending my hand in return. “Holly. This is my friend Jamie.”
Benjamin shook hands with me, then Jamie. “Fancy running into each other twice in one day, huh?”
I swallowed hard before explaining to Jamie, “We ran into each other earlier and had a long talk about my Mustang.”
Jamie didn’t look convinced. In fact, cynicism stained her gaze, and I had a feeling I’d be questioned later. “Interesting.”
“You mind?” He pointed to the space beside me.
I started to make up an excuse as to why he couldn’t join us, but, before I could vocalize it, he squeezed in beside me. Immediately, he looked at home, even if he was as unwelcome as a fever blister on your wedding day.
“I’ve heard great things about this place,” he started, looking from
Jamie to me like an overly friendly puppy dog. “Do you two come here often?”
Jamie and I exchanged a glance. No way was I telling him we came here every week. Based on our previous track record—however brief it was—this man might end up showing up every Monday like clockwork.
“We’ve come a few times,” I finally said.
“I’m new to the area, so I’m still discovering all the hot spots.”
I wasn’t sure I’d call this a hot spot, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I had bigger fish to fry, so to speak. Mainly, I just wanted to get rid of him.
“Where’d you move here from?” Jamie asked, still eyeing the man with her sharp, perceptive gaze.
“Louisville.”
My heart stuttered. Louisville? Chase had worked as a cop in Louisville up until six months ago. Could this man be connected with Chase through his time there? Even more, was this man somehow connected with the threat on Chase’s life?
Suddenly, I was more than a little uncomfortable. The man might seem goofy and unassuming, but was he? This could all be an act. He could be a part of this whole fiasco.
“Why’d you move here, Benjamin?” Jamie asked, emphasizing his name just a little too much.
“I took a new job.”
“Doing what?” she continued, ever the inquisitor.
“It’s all kind of hush-hush right now. Not that it would really matter if I told you, because what are the chances you would spill the beans? But, still, I took an oath, so I shall remain silent until I’m given freedom not to be silent.” He raised two fingers in the air in some kind of Martian-looking, Mork-and-Mindy-like pledge.
Secret? Oath? Hush-hush? This was getting worse and worse by the moment.
“So you’re telling me you have a job you’re not allowed to talk about?” Jamie stared at him, her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised. “What are you? CIA or something?”
He laughed, slightly awkwardly. “I’d tell you, but—”
“You’d have to kill me,” Jamie finished with a scowl.
I pushed my plate away, my appetite totally and completely gone. Stress was my best weight-loss method. Unfortunately, I’d had a lot of stress in my life lately, and I didn’t need to lose any more weight.
Before we could offer, Benjamin helped himself to a piece of pizza.
“Be our guest,” Jamie muttered.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He took a bite and murmured under his breath, “Oh, this is good.”
I grabbed my purse, feeling ill at ease. I couldn’t just sit here and pretend everything was okay. Not when I realized everything that was at stake. Not when the lives of people I loved could be on the line.
“You know, I hate to cut this short, but I really feel like I should get home,” I announced.
“Are you feeling okay, Holly-Wolly-Doodle-All-Day Paladin?” Jamie asked.
I shook my head, scowling at my friend for using the nickname. I’d made the mistake of sharing with her once about how a boy in my seventh grade class had taken to calling me that. Now she liked to use it at the worst possible times. “Not really.”
Benjamin slid out of the booth to allow me an exit, somehow wiping the sauce on his fingers all over the edge of the table and on his sleeves. I watched carefully so I wouldn’t stain my clothes.
“I totally understand.” He frowned at the pizza sauce on his shirt. “The pizza’s on me. Literally and figuratively.” He let out a weak, self-conscious laugh.
Jamie gave me a look that clearly indicated she didn’t want to be left alone with this guy. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to run as well. Hate to bail on you, Benjamin.” She emphasized his name a little too much.
“Oh, I get it. Maybe I’ll see you two again sometime.”
“Maybe,” I muttered.
Jamie and I waved before hurrying out the door together, not bothering to look back.
“What was that about?” Jamie whispered when we were outside in the balmy spring night.
“I’m not sure.” My words sounded wooden and forced. “It was weird.”
“You look pale. Anything you need to talk about?” Jamie asked. Her gaze, as always, was eagle-eye keen and perceptive. She didn’t miss anything.
Oh boy. Did I ever want to talk to her. But I couldn’t, not when so much was at stake. Benjamin’s providential appearance had confirmed that.
“I’ll be fine,” I told her.
At least, I hoped I’d be fine. I prayed that I would be fine.
She stared at me another second before nodding. “Okay, but my killer instincts are telling me something’s up.”
“Killer instincts?” Did she know? I nearly gaped in surprise and horror.
“It’s an expression.”
“Of course.” I laughed airily, realizing that I needed to get a grip.
That was easier said than done, though.
CHAPTER 6
As I lay in bed last night, the perfect idea hit me. Like, brilliant perfect. Like, if I wasn’t such a good girl, maybe I’d be pretty good at being cunningly brilliant. Maybe—just maybe—I could match wits with Mr. Evil.
I’d spent the morning composing a letter, perfect down to the last word, and then had a courier run it over to Chase at the police station.
The only problem was that I’d forged the letter and signed a name other than my own at the bottom. No one should get hurt though, and that was how I’d justified my actions. I tried not to make a habit of doing deceitful things like this, though I wouldn’t be able to prove it by my actions as of late.
As I sat at my desk staring at the various snapshots and trinkets that highlighted my life, I nibbled on my nails, hoping my plan would work. It was risky, but maybe I could outsmart the mysterious Shadow Man. Maybe.
I tried in vain to concentrate on my work. Instead, I pondered new paint colors for the otherwise drab, gray walls in our office. I wondered what would make this space stop smelling like days-old food even mere hours after being cleaned. I contemplated if it was a coincidence that so many people wore red, white, and blue to the office every day.
My focus was absolutely, positively shot.
At noon, my phone rang. I fully expected it to be Chase, calling to check in as he usually did. I had my entire spiel worked out as to what I would tell him when he mentioned the letter. I would encourage him to do just as it said. I thought I’d crossed every t and dotted every i, so he wouldn’t be suspicious that it was a fake.
Instead of Chase’s digits, it was a number I didn’t recognize. With a touch of hesitation, I answered. People with numbers I didn’t recognize called me all the time—that was nothing unusual in my line of work. But the Shadow Man remained on my mind, and I kept expecting him to pop up again.
“I’m trying to reach Holly Paladin,” a male voice said.
It wasn’t the deep tone of the man who’d threatened me, but the voice did sound vaguely familiar. “Speaking.”
“I hope you don’t mind me calling you at work.”
I tried to sound perky and polite, even though the greeting was a strange one and lacking the professionalism I’d half expected. “Whom am I speaking with?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Here I go again, making a fool of myself. This is Benjamin Radcliff.”
“Benjamin?”
The man with no concept of social cues whom I’d run into not once but twice yesterday?
Unease sloshed in my gut. Benjamin had to be connected with this fiasco somehow. The man seemed so harmless, but maybe that made him perfect for this scheme. Right now, there were only a few people I could trust—namely, my family, Jamie, and Chase. Everyone else was a toss-up.
“I hope I’m not creeping you out by calling like this,” he continued.
“Uh . . . creeping out is an interesting way to phrase it.” I nibbled on my bottom lip as a sense of foreboding filled me. Was this it—the next step in someone’s diabolical and senseless scheme? Would Benjamin ask me and test my “obedience”?
“I have a confessio
n. It actually wasn’t a total coincidence that I ran into you at the pizza place yesterday. It was only a half coincidence.” His voice rose almost comically as he finished the sentence.
My throat tightened as I realized his implications. This conversation felt creepier by the moment. “You followed me?”
“Yes—I mean, no.” He let out a nervous laugh. “I mean, I was in the area and I saw your Mustang in the restaurant’s parking lot. How many people around here drive a car like that? I decided to take a chance and see if it was you. I guess that’s pretty lame, huh?”
My cell phone buzzed in my purse, and I saw Chase’s number. I desperately wanted to answer, but I had to play my cards right. If Benjamin was connected with this whole threat/fiasco, I couldn’t tip him off that I was taking calls from Chase. I was walking a difficult line.
“What a coincidence.” I pulled my gaze away from my cell and stared at a picture of Chase and me instead. There was nothing glorious about the picture on my desk. It had been taken after lunch at my mom’s one day. The two of us were sitting on the couch, and Chase had his arm wrapped around me. We had dopey grins on our faces.
Well, I guess there was something glorious about the picture. It was the light that beamed from both of our eyes. The happiness there couldn’t be faked or bought.
“That’s what I said too! What a coincidence,” Benjamin continued. “Anyway, I told myself that if I ever saw you again, I was going to ask you out. But I lost my courage last night. Especially when I realized I’d intruded on your girls’ night like a bumbling idiot.”
This was it. The man asking me out. This was the moment when I was supposed to say yes or face dire consequences. I had to buy myself some time.
“How’d you get my number?” It was a valid question. And the only way I could think of to postpone him.
“Your friend said your name last night, so I googled you and saw you worked for Ralph Paladin.”
“Googled me? Of course.” My phone buzzed again. Chase was trying to reach me still. He wasn’t usually that persistent unless he really needed to talk. This wasn’t good.
Random Acts of Deceit (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 2) Page 4
