“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 narrow. 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.
“Thanks, 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 him. I grabbed my purse and fled.
What had I done?
CHAPTER 29
I walked into my house, my heart still pounding.
What had just happened?
Why had I done that?
I should have just stayed away, minded my own business. Like I didn’t have enough problems already.
Now I’d just shared my first kiss with a man who’d been my high school crush and lead antagonist. And I had no one to talk to about what had happened.
Of all the people I could have kissed, why Chase? Maybe I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be swept away. I shook my head. Nothing was making sense right now. One minute my heart was soaring with joy, and the next I was berating myself.
I sighed, exhausted from my internal conflict.
I didn’t turn the lights on as I made my way through the house. I wanted some hot tea. With honey. Jamie had given me some from a local beekeeper, saying something about it helping me with allergies. I didn’t even know I had allergies.
I’d make tea, then take a long bath. Tea and baths always made everything better.
In the kitchen, I flipped the light switch.
Nothing happened.
My blood froze.
I slowly turned, looking for a sign of someone. Of something out of place. Of anything else that set off warning bells.
That’s when I heard a creak come from the dining room.
My gaze shot across the room.
I couldn’t flee upstairs. Only ignorant chicks in horror flicks did that.
To get to the front door, I’d have to pass the dining room.
No way would I do that.
I backed into the living room instead. I made a split-second decision.
I walked to the bookcase and slowly, quietly turned it until I was on the other side. In the library.
I ducked behind the sofa there, in a nice little corner where I felt protected from the world.
At least, I felt protected from the intruder in my house.
I heard something else click.
My heart pounded in my ears and my skin crawled.
I waited for something else to happen.
I waited to see shoes.
I should have run out the back door, I realized. Only then I’d have to run to the gate, which was at the front of the house. By that time, the intruder could have grabbed me there.
In the moment, this had seemed like a great idea.
I pulled out my phone and texted Chase. I prayed he would get it.
Immediately, he texted back.
I’m on my way. You’ll be okay, Holly.
I hoped he was right.
***
I was counting the minutes, every cell of my body on alert, waiting for what would happen next. As I bided my time, I saw I had several missed calls. All from my oncologist.
Why couldn’t they realize that I didn’t want to be poked and prodded anymore?
Just then, my phone buzzed.
I glanced down. My brother was texting me about—what else?—a campaign event.
I texted back: Busy with other things right now. Like an intruder in the house.
I figured it couldn’t hurt if more than one person knew what was going on, just in case I was never seen again or something. We went back and forth in our texts a moment, and I told him the police were on their way.
I heard another click.
The front door. That’s what it had to be.
Had the intruder left? I prayed that was the case.
I continued praying. And counting. And trying not to panic.
My phone buzzed again. It was Chase: I’m at your house. Where are you?
I told him I was in the library and that I was okay.
Checking out the rest of the house. Stay where you are.
I wanted to jump out and run to him. But I didn’t dare move. Not yet. Not until I knew there was no one between Chase and me.
Time couldn’t pass fast enough as I waited for him to check everywhere. I heard him moving throughout the house. I prayed I didn’t hear him being hurt. Hear his body hit the ground. Any grunts of pain.
I felt fairly certain the intruder had left. But I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t seen anything. I had no confirmation.
My phone buzzed again.
House is clear. I’m coming to you.
The next thing I knew, I heard his voice. “Holly, it’s okay. I’m here.”
At once, I jumped from my hiding place. I ran toward Chase and threw my arms around him.
“Are you okay?” He pulled me close.
I nodded.
“I checked out the rest of the house. There’s no one here.”
“Thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course.”
I saw that look in his eyes again. The look that went beyond friendship. The look that showed he was torn between caring about me and analyzing the way I’d fled from his house earlier.
Another voice sounded at the front of the house. “Holly? Where are you?”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was Alex.
My family’s phone tree was in full effect.
***
An hour later, the electricity was back on, Ralph was here, and two uniformed officers were looking for fingerprints.
Chase had faithfully stayed by my side.
The strange thing was that nothing appeared to be taken. Nothing was damaged.
“Are you sure there was someone here?” Alex asked.
We’d all gathered in a semicircle in the kitchen, and Alex was cross-examining me.
I nodded. “I heard someone. The electricity was out.”
“Plus, the front door was open when I got here,” Chase said. “I assume that’s how the intruder made his getaway.”
“But how did he get inside?” Alex pressed.
I shook my head. “I have no idea. I didn’t see any signs of forced entry.”
“Anyone outside of the family have a key to this place?” Chase asked.
“Mom did lose her keys at that awards banquet for you, Holly,” Ralph said. “She assumed she just misplaced them and that it wasn’t a big deal, that even if someone found them, they wouldn’t be able to identify who they belonged to.”
“Maybe she didn’t misplace them,” I muttered.
Ralph pulled me into a side hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay. We’ve n
ever had any real problems around here before.”
Alex poured a cup of coffee. “Good thing Mom’s not here. She’d have a heart attack.”
She handed Chase the steaming mug, and he accepted.
“Make you not want to be so trusting, Holly?” Alex asked as she fetched another cup of java.
I blinked, surprised at her question. “What do you mean?”
“You’re Little Miss Idealist who always sees the best in people. You rethinking that yet?” She took a sip from her mug.
I shook my head. “No, not really.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to Chase. “Holly’s the one who thinks love can change the world, who thinks simple acts of kindness can build bridges, and who wants to save her first kiss for marriage.”
My bottom lip dropped open and my cheeks heated.
She did not just say that.
No!
I didn’t dare look at Chase, even though I could feel him staring at me. I knew he’d have questions.
How would I answer them?
“What’s wrong?” Ralph asked. “You usually start arguing right about now on why your values shouldn’t be criticized.”
I shook my head, speechless.
“I think her values sound nice. In my line of work—and with my past—Holly is a breath of fresh air,” Chase said.
My heart stopped pounding quite as quickly.
“I have to admit, with what I see every day, her worldview is kind of nice,” Alex said. “I’m her big sister. I have to give her a hard time.”
“I wish my constituents were that positive,” Ralph added.
“Your parents didn’t name you Holly Anna for nothing,” Chase offered. “I’ll take an optimist to a pessimist any day.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Chase stepped closer and squeezed my arm. “You should probably change your locks, Holly. Stay somewhere else tonight until that’s done. Please.”
I didn’t dare look up at him.
Instead, I nodded. “Fine. I’ll stay with you, Alex, but just for tonight.”
“Great. I’ll wait with you until you pack up a few things.”
Random Acts of Murder: A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 1 (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries) Page 16
