Random Acts of Fraud (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 5)

by Christy Barritt

  Random Acts of Fraud

  A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 5

  Christy Barritt

  Contents

  Copyright:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Also by Christy Barritt:

  Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries:

  Squeaky Clean Mysteries:

  The Sierra Files:

  The Worst Detective Ever:

  Carolina Moon Series:

  Cape Thomas Series:

  Standalones:

  The Gabby St. Claire Diaries:

  Complete Book List:

  About the Author

  Copyright:

  Random Acts of Fraud: A Novel

  Copyright 2017 by Christy Barritt

  Published by River Heights Press

  Cover design by The Killion Group

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The persons and events portrayed in this work are the creation of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All Scripture is taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  Chapter One

  I glanced around the busy city street, one that bustled with throngs of twentysomethings indulging in Saturday evening nightlife in downtown Cincinnati. Numerous hotspot restaurants and clubs claimed the area, and most of the people traversing these streets tonight seemed content to bounce from one location to another, following whatever whim seemed appealing or popular.

  The scent around me defined this whole experience. It was either body odor from the crowd or sewer gases, but the two blended into one in my mind, creating an unalluring, totally regrettable experience that summed up the last ten minutes.

  My best friend, Jamie Duke, had convinced me to sign up for an online dating service in order to overcome the romantic slump I’d been in since I’d ended my engagement three months ago. Meeting potential dates via the web was horrible on so many levels. And now I was standing on the sidewalk with Jamie as we waited for our dates to arrive. This was like waiting for a tetanus shot and knowing how much it was going to hurt.

  I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jean jacket, feeling like a crusty senior citizen attending a wild and crazy rave. The vibe emanating from others was energetic and fun. The vibe around me was etched with grumpiness and apprehension.

  I was twenty-nine, far from a senior citizen. I might as well be, however. I related to people well into their seventies and eighties more than I did people in my own age group. I liked old-timey values and front porches and face-to-face conversations. I did not like online dating. I didn’t like anything about it. And I did not like being here right now.

  “I’m going home,” I announced to Jamie. Then another realization stopped me cold. “But that would be rude.”

  “That’s right, girl. It would be rude.” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Classic Jamie.

  My friend had a distinct style and personality of her own, one that was often defined by the black curly hair that bounced from her face in a modern-day, ultra-stylish Afro. Her skin was light brown and her body curvy in the right places, especially now that she’d lost more than a hundred pounds and turned her life around through exercise and eating right.

  Her expression showed pure stubbornness. She wouldn’t let me get out of this easily. That meant I needed a good, solid argument, one that would be sure to justify an early departure.

  “Audrey Hepburn would have never done this,” I finally said.

  “I know she’s a role model of sorts to you, but who knows what modern-day Hollywood would have done to her in this day and age. She very well could be out fighting for every woman’s right to have hairy armpits.”

  I gasped, the very idea appalling on so many different levels. So. Many. Levels. “Take it back.”

  “Nope, not going to do it.” Jamie looked like she might continue bursting my bubble, but then she perked as her gaze zeroed in on someone in the distance. “Oh look, there’s Luke. He looks . . . different . . . from his profile picture.”

  I observed the guy. He was tall—really tall—and thin. He walked like a basketball star, his bounce-like cadence seeming to match a player leisurely dribbling a ball down the court. As soon as I saw the massive gold chain around his neck and the matching bling on his teeth, I knew exactly how this evening would turn out.

  His gaze zeroed on Jamie, and he nodded an aloof greeting.

  “You must be Jamie.” He stopped in front of us, giving off a definite “I’m full of myself” vibe.

  Jamie and Luke exchanged a few lines of dialogue, which I tried to tune out. This was all a bad, bad idea. I could try to justify it all I wanted, but the truth was the truth.

  I wasn’t ready to date again.

  I drew in a deep breath and glanced down the street, trying to give the two their moment. They were never going to make it. If only I could sense for myself the things that I could sense so easily in others.

  Just then, someone rammed into me, nearly knocking me off my feet and snapping me back to reality.

  I gasped as a man grabbed my shoulders, catching me before I tumbled onto the sidewalk. His gaze darted around wildly, and adrenaline pumped from his sweat-laden skin.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, dragging in a ragged breath. He glanced at me, and something flashed in his eyes. Was that recognition? “Be careful.”

  As quickly as he appeared, he was gone. He rushed down the street, urgency charging his every movement. People nowadays. They were in such a hurry all the time.

  “Are you okay?” Jamie asked.

  I nodded, still startled by the stranger’s hit-and-run. “Yeah. I mean, yes.” Where was my etiquette? “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “Some people are so rude,” Jamie muttered with pursed lips. “Like me. I haven’t introduced you yet. Holly, this is Luke. Luke, Holly.”

  I forced a smile, wanting to be anywhere but here. Had I mentioned that yet?

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” I said anyway.

  “You too,” Luke said. Nothing about his words sounded sincere.

  I glanced around, still feeling self-conscious. My own date was ten minutes late. Which was unacceptable. Late people drove me crazy.

  But Jamie and I had agreed to only double date. We both knew firsthand that there were too many crazies out there to go on these rendezvous alone. If my online date didn’t show up, I couldn’t leave Jamie alone with Luke. I would be relegated to third wheel.

  My night just got a thousand times worse.

  “Let’s give Travis five more
minutes,” Jamie said, seeming to read both my thoughts and my unease.

  “I think we’ve given him plenty of time,” I said. “We should go eat. You guys can just pretend like I’m not there. I will practically be invisible, I assure you.”

  Luke shifted, as if he didn’t know what to say. He was probably hoping I would bow out. That was what most normal people would hope for. But a promise was a promise. I couldn’t leave Jamie.

  “If you’d brought your cell phone, you could check to see if he texted about being late,” Jamie said, a vaguely scolding tone to her voice.

  “It really bugs me when people stare at their phones during a conversation instead of looking at the person speaking with them,” I explained to her again. “To avoid that happening, I simply left my phone at home.”

  “Well, that might be a non-issue right now. It will be hard for him to be glued to his own phone while with you if he doesn’t even show up.”

  Before Jamie could object, I turned on my heel and started toward the restaurant down the street. Luke had claimed he didn’t know where the restaurant was, so we’d agreed to meet at a more central location near Fountain Square. As I rounded the corner, I stopped so quickly that Jamie nearly collided into me.

  “What on God’s green earth are you doing, girl?” she asked.

  I pointed to the Mustang parked on the street and muttered, “That’s Travis’s car.”

  I was a Mustang enthusiast, and that was one of the reasons I’d agreed to go out with this guy. We both loved the vehicle. He’d sent me pictures of his car even. It was a cherry-red ‘66 Mustang.

  “Are you sure that’s his?” A wrinkle formed between Jamie’s eyes as she stared across the street.

  My cheeks heated as I nodded. “His has that navy blue pinstripe on the bottom. It’s custom. He mentioned that.”

  Even worse than seeing his car, I could see Travis Strongman sitting inside the car. He wasn’t moving. Maybe he’d seen me, had gotten cold feet, and was now contemplating how to get out of this date. Even though I could relate to the getting cold feet part, it was still insulting.

  Jamie threw her shoulders back and let out a harrumph. “He can’t stand you up. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  I grabbed her arm before she could charge toward the car and do something to further add injury to insult. “You don’t have to do that, Jamie. It’s better to cut my losses now rather than later.”

  My cheeks warmed, and my body desperately sought a rock to hide under. Since there were no rocks here on the city street, I’d settle for a mailbox or newspaper stand. Anything. Maybe even a phone booth where I could magically transform into someone else. A superhero with invisibility as her super power.

  “Of course, I do. This is unacceptable.” Her voice rose with her signature urban sass, and I could tell “the diva” might emerge at any minute. “The diva” was how I described one of Jamie’s idiosyncrasies. When she got fired up about something, every bit of feistiness rose in her, usually ending with a Z-shaped finger snap, jutted hips, and dramatically pursed lips.

  I stepped closer, lowering my voice even more so Luke wouldn’t hear my confession. “What if he saw me and changed his mind?”

  Jamie scoffed and pulled her head back until an uncustomary double chin appeared. “That’s ridiculous. You’re gorgeous. Why would he change his mind?”

  I didn’t really want to explain this to her. It was humiliating. “Because the dating game is cruel,” I whispered. “I’m not cut out for this. I like doing things the traditional way.”

  Panic—and a good dose of insecurity—rose in me. Put me in a social work situation, and I was golden. In my element. I could bring cookies to shut-ins, visit the chronically ill in the hospital, or host a party like a pro.

  But dating? That was an entirely different story.

  Jamie paused and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry I pushed you into this, Holly. But this guy is not going to get away with standing you up. He needs to man up. There are a shortage of real men around here, and it’s a crying shame that people think they can treat others this way.”

  That uncomfortable feeling squeezed my gut again. I hated when people made scenes. I really hated it when I was the cause of that scene. It was so unbecoming.

  But once Jamie got something in her mind, there was no changing it. I just had to brace myself for the gale-force winds that came with Hurricane Jamie. Her sunshine quickly turned into the blinding glare of a nuclear explosion.

  As she charged toward the Mustang, I glanced at Luke and smiled apologetically.

  “She’s a spitfire, isn’t she?” Luke said, a touch of admiration staining his otherwise aloof gaze as he stared after Jamie.

  “She is. She’s the person you want on your side when things go south. Devoted to a fault.”

  “That’s good to know. I’m into loyalty and spunk.”

  “Then you should love Jamie.” I braced myself as my friend reached the car door and pounded on the window.

  I waited, holding my breath as I anticipated what might play out next. Nothing happened.

  Travis didn’t move. I could still see his silhouette in the driver’s seat. What was his problem?

  Jamie’s hand went to her hip as she waited impatiently for a response. Then she rapped at the window again. Tapped her foot. Gave Travis a death stare. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew her well enough to know that I didn’t have to see her expression to know the stare was there.

  This was painful. So painful.

  “Jamie, we should just go—” I called, looking for that mailbox to disappear beneath.

  “This guy is not getting away with being a jerk.” Jamie grabbed the door handle.

  Horror washed through me. I stepped forward to stop her and end this madness before it got out of control.

  As I did, Jamie jerked the door open. She opened her mouth to give the man a verbal lashing when the man’s silhouette abruptly shifted.

  He slumped and fell onto the street.

  Jamie lurched backward.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Based on the pallor of the man’s skin and his motionless body, it appeared Travis Strongman was dead.

  Chapter Two

  Of all the detectives that would show up at the scene, of course Chase Dexter just happened to be working tonight. That was just . . . lovely. A way to make a humiliating night even more humiliating.

  As soon as I saw my ex-boyfriend striding my way across the sidewalk, my cheeks flushed. A hollow feeling swelled inside my stomach, like a balloon filled to capacity and about to burst.

  When would I stop reacting to Chase like this? How would I ever forget the year we’d dated? How much I loved him? How impossible a future together would be?

  His gaze was like a laser beam on me as he approached. I’d been largely avoiding him for the past three months. Occasionally, we’d text or run into each other. But it was better if we didn’t speak because, when we did, I just wanted to forget about my convictions and run back into his familiar, strong arms.

  Chase didn’t look at the crime scene or the officers surrounding it or the crowds that had gathered. No, his eyes were solely on me. Concern, curiosity, and . . . something else . . . lingered in the depths of his baby blues.

  He squeezed my arm and stooped slightly to meet me eye to eye. “Holly . . . I didn’t realize you’d be here. Are you okay?”

  I nodded, my arms still crossed over my chest and a hand halfway covering my gaping mouth. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m better than that guy.”

  His gaze lingered on me one more minute—inquisitive and probing—until he glanced over at the car. Yellow crime-scene tape had been strung around the area and patrol officers surrounded it, trying to keep away gawkers.

  It had been a circus around here since Travis fell from the car. Some people had run away screaming. Others had been desperate for a glimpse of what was happening. Others had their phones raised and their fingers sprinted across the screen
in a race to break the news on social media. They acted like he wasn’t someone’s son or friend or coworker. Like he wasn’t a person but a news story or a clip from their favorite TV show.

  And that was what was wrong with our society today. Compassion had been replaced with the desire for attention. Tragedy was a means to achieve social media buzz.

  Jamie and I had done our best to secure the scene until the police arrived. It was the least we could do.

  Yes, the least I could do.

  I somehow felt responsible for this. Which was stupid. And I knew that. But I felt that way nonetheless.

  “How did you know this guy?” Chase’s voice sounded tight and slightly edgy as he turned back to me. The orange glow from an overhead sign illuminated part of his face—a face of which I’d studied every inch. That I’d caressed. That I’d wanted to wake up to each morning.

  Focus, Holly. Focus.

  I moved my hand from my mouth and rubbed my throat instead. “I didn’t know him. Not really. We’d communicated a few times via email and texts.”

  Chase continued to study me, almost as if no one else was near, even though everything was churning and spinning around us at a maddening pace yet painfully slow at the same time.

  “What does that mean?” He tilted his head.

  “It was me.” Jamie stepped into our conversation and relieved me of all the uncomfortable things I’d been on the verge of saying. “I convinced Holly to try this new online dating site. Winkable.com. All of this was my idea. She was supposed to meet this guy tonight, and this is how we found him.”

  Was that disappointment in Chase’s gaze? Jealousy?

  I wasn’t sure.

  Nor was I sure why I felt guilty. Chase and I had broken up. We were free to do whatever we wanted with whomever we wanted whenever we wanted. Which sounded way more promiscuous than it actually was.

  I squeezed the skin between my eyes. My emotions panged all over the place tonight, and I just wanted to go home and enjoy some peace and quiet while listening to Frank Sinatra. Maybe even take up knitting and crossword puzzles. Buy a cat. Or ten.