Fatal 5

by Karin Kaufman

As I expected, this story was front and center. A possible serial killer in the city grabbed headlines.

  “The victim has been identified as twenty-one-year-old Anthony Stevens, who lived in the 2800th block of Hawthorn Avenue.”

  I froze. Again. I didn’t know why I didn’t think anything could shock me, but life continued to do just that.

  “That’s one of my clients’ houses,” I mumbled. “I was a caseworker for that family.”

  Jamie put her hand on my knee. “Girlfriend, are you serious?”

  I nodded.

  Why did I suddenly feel like I was being framed? I’d walked into the middle of a murder, and now my life was inevitably woven with the real killer’s.

  Just then, the doorbell rang. Who would be coming over now?

  I pulled the door open. When I saw Chase standing there, I knew I’d been discovered.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Holly.” He nodded stiffly. “Sorry for stopping by unannounced. You mind if I come in for a minute?”

  He was being awfully kind, especially considering he was about to arrest me. I glanced beyond him. I didn’t see the flashing lights of any police cars. At least he hadn’t brought the entire squad with him.

  I pulled the door open. “Of course. Come in. Can I get you coffee?”

  I wasn’t sure why I sounded so calm. I’d fallen back into my old habits of being a polite and proper hostess without even trying. My etiquette book would be proud, but my conscience . . . not so much.

  “I will take some coffee, if you don’t mind. I’ve been up all night working this case.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “It sounds like a real doozy.”

  I closed the door and directed him to the couch, introducing him to Jamie and letting the two of them chat for a moment while I both cleared my head and started a pot of java.

  Everything would be okay, I told myself. Despite what felt like the impossible, I’d get through this. Eventually my family might forgive me. I might even forgive myself. I’d been praying every day, over and over, that God would forgive me.

  Maybe it was simply time to face the music, so to speak.

  I poured a mug of steaming liquid and carefully set it on the table beside Chase. He and Jamie were talking merrily, as if they’d known each other for years. Of course, Jamie was like that. She could talk to anyone, which really came in handy as a reporter.

  I lowered myself into a chair across from Chase, trying to accept my fate. Maybe owning up to all of this would really be the best thing for me. Jamie was right—I was on the brink of a breakdown.

  I wiped my hands on my dress, disguising the action as smoothing the wrinkles of my skirt. “So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  He looked very stiff and proper in his seat—like he wasn’t comfortable. And Chase Dexter always looked comfortable.

  This wasn’t a good sign.

  “You’ve heard about who the media is dubbing as the ‘Good Deeds Killer’?”

  I nodded, willing myself to breathe so I wouldn’t pass out. “I have.”

  “In the course of my investigation today, I discovered that you were a social worker for both families who were affected by the crime.”

  I nodded slowly. “I just saw that on TV and realized I was connected with the second family as well.”

  “When I realized that—”

  I braced myself, imagining putting my wrists together so the handcuffs could go on.

  “I wondered if you might be able to offer any insight.”

  What? Was this a trap? Was he for real?

  “Holly? Did you hear me?”

  I snapped out of my stupor. “What?”

  “I wondered if you might know something that connects the families, since you were working with both of them.”

  “How . . . how’d you know I was working with them both?”

  “We found your business card, for one thing. We called your former boss at CPS, and she approved us talking to you. Is that a problem?”

  I shook my head, stealing a quick glance at Jamie. “No, no problem. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “I figured you would.” He leaned toward me, elbows on his knees. “Is there anything you can think of, Holly, that would link those two families—besides you?”

  I sighed and looked off in the distance. What would connect those families, other than me? The police had to know most of what I knew already, though.

  “I can only speak about Katrina and Bernice. Both of the women had spouses who abandoned them. Then again, most of the kids growing up in lower-class homes don’t have male role models. Many of them have been abandoned by their fathers.”

  Chase nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Dewayne was just visiting Katrina, so I never met him before. There’s not a lot I can say.”

  “Does the Praetorian Guard mean anything to you?” Chase asked. “And I’m not talking about the one from ancient Roman times.”

  I stared at him a moment. “I’ve heard of them. I mean, everyone around here has.” They were a violent street gang that the police had been trying to bring down for years. Instead of them disbanding under the threat of arrest, that possibility seemed to bring them closer. “You think this is because of the gang?”

  Chase nodded. “There are rumors that both were involved in the gang. No one’s owning up to it, though.”

  “Most parents don’t want to admit that, I suppose. Although, to find their kids’ killer they might.”

  “Unless they’re being threatened.”

  I let my head drop back slightly. “Unless they’re being threatened.”

  Chase tilted his head. “I wondered if you might be willing to talk to your former clients.”

  “They’re not going to tell me anything, Chase. Even though I’m not a CPS investigator anymore, they’re afraid I’ll take their kids away from them.”

  “Maybe if they thought their safety was at risk, you could convince them to talk—for the sake of their kids. You know they don’t trust the police. As soon as they spotted me coming their way, they clammed up. But you have a way with people.”

  “A way with people?” Had he just given me a compliment? That was strange because I had the impression he thought I was a total loser.

  “Yeah, you’re sweet and kind. People take to that. They know you’re a good listener.” He shifted, but his eyes never left me. “So, what do you say?”

  I nodded, hoping my cheeks didn’t heat. “Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help with this investigation.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Thank you. Whatever you do, don’t put yourself in any danger. I think I know you well enough to know that you’re not the risk-taker type. You always think things through.”

  I had been that type—up until the point in time when I’d been given a year to live. Apparently, I thought that gave me a year to make stupid decisions. I’d learned my lesson, but I feared I might be too late.

  “Of course. I’m Holly I-always-think-twice Paladin.” And I usually was thought out, responsible, the one everyone depended on. My timing just happened to be lousy.

  He stood. “Nice to meet you, Jamie.”

  She grinned a little too widely. “You too, Chase.”

  He turned toward me and offered a curt nod. “I’ll be in touch, Holly.”

  As soon as he was gone, I turned to Jamie. Neither of us needed to say anything to know the other’s thoughts. This was horrible. Just horrible.

  I plopped down and stared at my friend, knowing her emotions mirrored mine. We’d known each other long enough to not have to say anything sometimes.

  I raised my palms in shock. “I know, right?”

  Jamie fanned her face before nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. He’s totally hot.”

  My mouth sagged open. “Jamie! That’s not what I was talking about!”

  She shrugged dramatically. “What? He wasn’t what I expected. Seriously, the way you described him, I thought he was a Neandertha
l whose knuckles drug the ground and who spoke in grunts.”

  I hated to describe myself as stupefied again, but . . . “Did you hear a word he said? Do you realize what’s going on?”

  The smile disappeared from her face as she nodded. “Yeah, unfortunately, I did.”

  I stared into space, my thoughts churning. Jamie moved over to sit beside me and patted my knee.

  “Look, you’re one of the best secret keepers I know. Someone who can keep the fact that she has cancer from her family definitely knows how to stay quiet. I’ll trust your judgment if you think you need to keep your mouth shut on this, too. I just don’t want you to get into bigger trouble later.”

  “Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate that.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “How are you, Katrina?” I leaned toward my former client, a weird range of emotions circling inside of me. There was some guilt, compassion, anxiety, and concern, all rolled into one super storm.

  I’d stopped by to visit her, partly because Chase had asked and partly because I was genuinely concerned about her well-being. I had to admit that being in this house after what had happened last time I was here left me unbalanced. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the surge of worry I’d felt when I’d broken in. I felt the satisfaction of cleaning and trying to help a sister out. I felt the horror of finding the dead body.

  But right now wasn’t about me. It was about Katrina. I had to stay focused.

  She wiped her eyes. “I guess I’m okay, Ms. Paladin. I don’t know. I don’t know nothing anymore.”

  Her voice held an odd mix of urban hip and Appalachian. She was one of the people in this area who had moved up to find jobs after everything dried up in the mountains of Kentucky and West Virginia. Sometimes, it felt like this neighborhood was a subculture in and of itself.

  I leaned toward her and squeezed her hand. The woman was young, and she looked young—too young to have four children. She’d worked as a stripper to pay bills at one point, only giving it up so she could keep her kids. But working in a grocery store didn’t pay nearly as well as baring her skin.

  “Were you close to your cousin?”

  She shook her head, running a blue-tipped fingernail under her eyes. “He was only staying with me for the week. His mom kicked him out. Said he’d been up to no good and she’d had enough of him. She would’ve changed her mind. She always does.”

  I handed her a tissue. “Tell me about your cousin. Dewayne.”

  She wiped under her eyes again with the tissue I’d given her. “Underneath everything, he was a good guy. He just got mixed up with the wrong crowd. You know how that can be.”

  “What do you mean by wrong crowd?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Just kids who weren’t trying to stay on the straight and narrow. Not bad kids, necessarily. Just kids who seemed to like trouble.”

  “It wasn’t a gang, was it?”

  Her eyes widened, and she hung her head toward the floor a moment. “I feared he might be involved in one. He’d been gone a lot lately, you know? I asked him what he was up to, and he’d always give me the same answer. ‘Same old, same old.’ He was working at the fast food place down the street, but he was bringing in some big money. He’d bought a new phone, a new watch, expensive sunglasses.”

  “And you have no idea where he got the money for it?”

  “No idea. He wouldn’t tell me.” She suddenly straightened, looking startled. “You’re not going to take my kids away from me, are you? Just because I let him stay here?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m just trying to figure out how you are.”

  The first hint of a smile tugged at her lips. She ran a hand through her bleached-blonde hair, exposing dark roots underneath. “You’re always so nice, Ms. Paladin. You’ve been a real lifesaver. I know you were the one who paid for Reggie to be able to play basketball at the rec center. The receptionist didn’t want to tell me, but I finally got it out of her that the person who’d paid was wearing a frilly dress. I knew it was you.”

  I contemplated whether or not I should own up to it, but I finally nodded. “I’m not really supposed to get involved with things like that. But I know you’re trying hard to do right by your kids. I just wanted to give you a helping hand.”

  “Reggie’s having a great time playing ball. It keeps him off the streets.”

  “Exactly.” That had been my thought behind it. If you kept some of these kids occupied, they stayed out of trouble. It was when they had too much time on their hands that they connected with the wrong people. They needed to find positive peer groups.

  “Dewayne did like to play basketball, also. He always went to that new court down on Eighth.”

  “I heard about it. Orion Enterprises donated the money to build it.” I only knew that fact because Jamie had covered opening day for the newspaper. Orion Vanderslice had made quite the impression on her—in a bad way. She’d thought he was rich, arrogant, and stuck up. Yet, when the cameras came on, he became a different person.

  Katrina let out an uneven sigh. “I just can’t imagine who would do this. What really scares me is that this person has struck again. Another young man with his whole life ahead of him has gone to meet his maker too soon.”

  “Did your cousin ever hang out with that other boy? Anthony?”

  “You mean, the other boy who was killed?” Katrina shrugged. “I wish I could tell you, but I have no idea. He didn’t exactly bring his friends over here to meet the family.”

  “Did he say anything to indicate someone was angry with him?”

  Katrina raised one eyebrow. “You’re not working for the police or something, are you?”

  My cheeks heated. “I just want to make sure you and your kids are safe.”

  “No, he didn’t say anything to me. But you could talk to his mom, Desiree. She might have some names for you.”

  ***

  That evening after work, my mom dropped me off so I could pick up my Mustang—the girl looked as good as new—and then I went to the youth center where I volunteered once a week. As a June Cleaver wannabe, I stood out like the proverbial sore thumb, but that didn’t stop me from coming here and usually bringing homemade cookies, to boot.

  The center was located in an old strip of shops that time hadn’t treated well. A small convenience store stood on the corner, if your idea of convenience was alcohol and cigarettes, the main staples here. There was also a bar—the dark, seedy kind with no windows—across the street and a diner-style restaurant a few doors down.

  The location wasn’t great, but it was right in the heart of where the kids lived. Plus, the rent was cheap and part of the parking lot had been turned into a basketball court.

  Abraham Willis ran the center. He’d gone to a local Christian college, seen the need for something like this in the area, and felt God leading him to open the place. That was six years ago.

  Abraham was here almost every day, and he worked tirelessly for little pay. Whenever I could, I tried to anonymously send him and his wife gift cards for restaurants or even groceries, in an effort to make their lives a little easier. His wife, Hannah, stayed home with their little one-year-old boy, Levi, and I knew money was really tight.

  While Abraham played basketball with some of the guys, I usually stayed inside and helped the girls with their homework. When I wasn’t tutoring, I helped them make cookies or we talked about boys or we did our nails. I liked it when I could get the girls apart from the guys because when they were together, all they wanted to do was flirt.

  The relationships I’d developed here seemed unlikely, but I was appreciative of each of the girls I’d gotten to know. I wanted to see them succeed and not fall into the cycle of poverty and crime, as I’d seen it happen so many times. I wanted them to know that there was more to the future than drugs and violence and gangs. Most of all, I didn’t want them to be on my caseload one day.

  Of course, now that wouldn
’t be a problem. But when I’d started here, that had been my primary thought.

  “Ms. Holly,” someone yelled in the distance.

  I looked over and spotted the teen affectionately known as Little T. Little T was anything but little. At sixteen, he already stood well over six feet and was built like a linebacker. He had a deep, booming voice and an infectious personality. He was the type that seemed ripe for trouble, like someone with a wandering eye who always looked for new opportunities.

  For some reason, he was particularly fond of me and always went out of his way to talk. He put his phone down for long enough to give me his little handshake, high five, one-handed patty-cake, give-the-dog-a-bone routine.

  “What’s going on, Little T?”

  “Did you bring cookies?”

  I held out the plate. “Of course.”

  He grinned and snitched one. His eyes closed in delight when he took the first bite. “Can I marry you?”

  “I’m too old for you, Little T.” We’d had the playful discussion before.

  “But I want to eat these cookies forever.”

  “You just worry about keeping yourself out of trouble. Then you’ll meet a good woman and settle down. When you do that, I’ll teach your wife how to bake cookies like these. How does that sound?”

  He grinned. “It’s a deal.”

  “Wait. Don’t hurry away yet. I heard about those two boys who were shot. Did you know them?”

  He nodded. “We had some mutual friends, you could say.”

  “So, Dewayne and Anthony were friends?”

  “Yeah, I guess they ran in the same circles.”

  “Man, losing two friends in a week. That’s rough. How are you holding up?”

  He glanced out the window. “Hard to say. Lot of people is scared, wondering if someone’s going after people in our group. Maybe they’re targeting us.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  His gaze swung back toward me. “Isn’t it obvious? Two of them dead.”

  I tried to choose my words carefully. “You have any idea who’s behind it, Little T? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  He shrugged. “Everyone has their theories.”