I stared at his picture again. The man was handsome. I wondered if he had some Latin heritage—either Italian or Spanish. I wasn’t sure which. But his olive skin and nearly black hair created an alluring package.
I released a shaky breath. Okay, that was my first step. Now I needed to move on. That was sufficient cyber stalking for one night.
I clicked off that link, and my fingers lingered over the keyboard another moment. I knew I shouldn’t, but I clicked on Winkable.com, the dating website. I needed to remove my profile. Now. Two days ago would have been preferable. I wasn’t cut out for this type of thing.
As the site loaded up, I saw four messages waiting for me. None were from Travis, so I didn’t even bother to read them. Instead, I hit Delete, followed by a couple of other steps. Then I was done, gone from the site forever and ever.
I stood and stretched, realizing there was nothing else I could do. I really needed to sleep. But maybe I’d just clean my toilet real quick first. Or reorganize my silverware drawers. I settled for finding my phone and charging it.
I grabbed the device from my dresser and several new text messages caught my eye.
My heart skipped a beat when I recognized Travis’s phone number.
He’d texted me? Tonight?
I held my breath as I clicked on his messages.
I’m sorry I made you a part of this.
What in the world? Why had he sent this to me?
You’ve got to help us.
What was he talking about? Help him what? And who was “us”? Had Travis intended on sending this to someone else, but he’d accidentally sent it to me? That’s what it sounded like.
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all.
I didn’t know who else to turn to for this—
The text ended abruptly. Acid pooled in my gut. Had Travis’s text been cut short because the killer had shown up? The time stamp showed he’d sent the message only a few minutes before Jamie and I found him. Maybe five minutes earlier. I remembered because he had been ten minutes late at that point.
My eyes wandered to one last message. From Travis also. My breath caught.
It was sent only an hour ago. After Travis was dead.
My blood went ice cold.
The killer must have grabbed Travis’s phone after killing him, I realized. I scanned the text, adrenaline pumping through my blood.
I know who you are. Give me what belongs to me or I’ll kill you next.
What in the world? Was that message directed at me? What could someone possibly think I had that belonged to them? That was clearly a threat.
There was one thing I knew: I needed to call Chase. Again.
Because suddenly it was raining men in my life. Unfortunately, one of them was dead, and the other apparently wanted to kill me.
Chapter Five
Normally, I attended my childhood church on Saturday evenings and Jamie’s church on Sunday mornings. But today I’d decided to head to my Saturday evening church on Sunday morning instead. Most people thought my methods were weird and unconventional—which they were.
I didn’t know how to describe my choices, other than to say that my home church fed my mind with Scripture and theology, while Jamie’s church fed my soul with the congregation’s heart-moving worship and their emphatic amens. Between the two of them, I felt pretty balanced and ready to face the world for the rest of the week.
The congregation at my childhood church was large, and, for today, there was something exceedingly comforting about blending in and not being noticed in the crowds. Jamie’s church, on the other hand, was small and met in an old strip mall. I didn’t quite feel like being that social—or noticeable—today.
I slipped in late—something I never did because lateness was the same as rudeness—and I sat in the back by myself. There was a group of older widows I normally enjoyed sitting beside. Occasionally, they complained because the music was too loud and there weren’t enough hymns. Sometimes they might mention how much they missed the beautiful flower arrangements that previously adorned the stage, which was now minimalistic and dark. Every once in a while, they also said they missed the pews that had been replaced with theater seating.
But these ladies were also ripe with advice and wisdom and stories from the past that captured my imagination. They could quote Scripture by memory; they were the first to volunteer to cook meals for socials; and they had some killer cake recipes.
I’d grown up here, but all my friends from childhood and youth group had either moved or gotten married. Initially, I’d still been included in their circles, even though I’d felt like a third wheel at times. But then they’d had kids, and our get-togethers had morphed into playdates. Eventually, they’d stopped inviting me, and I couldn’t even be offended. I understood that groups changed with time and circumstances. We had less in common now.
There were a few singles here, but it seemed like many of them had gravitated to other churches in the area. Churches with hip, twentysomething pastors, fog machines, and lots of social media buzz that was filled with catchy, feel-good slogans.
I figured that a few minutes before church was over I’d slip out, go to my car, and I might get through the entire morning without having to interact with anyone.
It wasn’t like me. I was Ms. Upbeat, Perky, and Optimistic. But the life changes around me recently were dragging me down.
My mom was dating someone.
My sister, Alex, was expecting her first baby.
My brother, Ralph, was married to his job and trying to change the world. Or, at least, Ohio.
My best friend, Jamie, was on a mission to find a husband.
On the other hand, a possible psychotic killer was texting me and demanding I give him something I didn’t have.
I’d called Chase last night and told him about the texts. He’d told me that, unlike how things happened in movies, it would be nearly impossible to trace the location of Travis’s phone. He’d given two options: he could take my phone to monitor any future texts, and I could get a new one. Or I could keep my phone and keep him apprised of any new messages.
I’d opted to keep my phone and keep him updated.
As the closing song, “Blessed Be Your Name,” started, I stood and grabbed my purse. That was my cue to leave.
Just as I slipped into the aisle, my phone buzzed. I fished it from my purse and glanced at the screen. I’d gotten another text from the same number.
My breath caught as I read the words there.
R U enjoying the service?
I paused in the back of the auditorium and scanned the congregation. No one stood out to me. No one at all.
But the potential killer was here somewhere. He was watching me.
A shiver wiggled down my spine.
I had to get out of here. Now.
I stepped onto the plush carpet in the foyer area, my thoughts racing, and pushed my purse higher on my shoulder as I headed straight for the exit.
I was determined not to make eye contact with anyone for fear of being stopped. I just wanted to get away from whoever was watching me.
My eyes ventured up—just once—and I sucked in a deep breath at the person I saw.
Drew Williams.
Drew Williams, who looked very nice in a suit and a tie. His hair was slicked back, but not in a sleazy style. No, in one of the more popular styles of the moment. His thick and wavy locks were neatly away from his face, reminding me a bit of Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday.
And he saw me also, and I knew if I hurried past I would look like I had no manners at all. But there was a killer here . . .
Calming my thoughts a second, I realized that even if he was the killer, he probably wouldn’t harm me right here in the foyer. No, whoever had killed Travis was methodical and well thought out.
Right now, he was trying to let me know he was a threat.
He’d succeeded.
As Drew waved at me, I slowed my steps and approached him.
Three minutes. That would be long enough to say hello and then move on without being rude.
As I got closer, I saw a gold name badge on his pocket reading “Deacon.”
“Holly.” He briefly touched my elbow as a grin stretched across his face. “How are you today?”
I gripped my purse. “I’m doing okay. And you?”
“I suppose that, all things considered, I’m doing okay also.”
“I’m sure you’re still reeling from what you learned last night,” I ventured to say. I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up, but why not? There was no need of skirting around the truth.
“It was quite a shock to hear that Travis was using a different name and telling you he owned my car. Part of me still has a hard time believing it. You think you know people but . . .” He ended with a headshake.
“Some people are really good at deceiving others,” I finished. Unfortunately, I knew firsthand just how true that was. I’d obviously had the wool pulled over my eyes.
“Yes, they are.” Drew’s gaze locked on mine, and his disposition slowly morphed from disbelieving to hopeful. “Listen, Holly, do you want to grab lunch? Nothing fancy. No pressure. Just lunch.”
I tried to think of an excuse. Any excuse. But, other than the fact that a killer was here and so was Drew, I couldn’t. I had no other plans except to be alone and that didn’t seem like a reasonable excuse to share.
And then I thought: this could be my opportunity to get information. It wasn’t the best motive for lunch, but it was one of the only things that gave me the courage to say yes. Sometimes a girl just had to take what was handed to her and sort out her motivations later. Otherwise, I’d overthink everything. Every. Single. Stinkin’. Thing.
“Sure,” I finally said. “Why not?”
A grin stretched across Drew’s face. “Perfect. You pick where and we can meet.”
“How about Kazan?” Kazan was a new Mediterranean restaurant that had opened down the street. I’d eaten there a few times and really enjoyed it.
“Sounds great.” He glanced at his thick, gold watch. “I’ve got duty after church. I have to help enter everyone’s tithes into the system. Exciting stuff, I assure you. Meet in forty minutes?”
I nodded and wondered exactly what I’d just done. “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”
I almost changed my mind more than once. This was a bad idea. I had no right to meet with Drew, especially when I knew deep down inside that I was still hung up on Chase.
But the man had said this was just lunch. No pressure. No strings attached. I could handle that. I wasn’t promising anything other than a meal together. People ate together all the time.
Despite that, my hands were trembling as I found a corner table in the quaint restaurant and waited for Drew to arrive. I was early. Of course. Because being early was actually being on time. Etiquette 101.
I glanced around the place. Thick wooden chairs gathered at matching tables; exotic tile stretched across the floor; and vintage lights hung low over the tables and expelled only the dimmest of illumination. One wall was all brick and filled with pictures taken from halfway across the world.
The smell of olive oil, lemon, and basil hit me first, followed by a hint of paprika and grilled seafood of some sort. Music—I thought it had an Aladdin flare, but I was sure there was a much more cultured way of describing it—floated through the overhead. This place was a nice little treasure tucked away in the city.
As I waited for Drew to arrive, my phone rang. It was Jamie. She was the perfect Rx for me now, just what I needed to talk myself off this ledge.
“How’s it going today, girlfriend?” she asked. Voices filled the background, as if a crowd surrounded her.
“I got another text,” I whispered.
“What? From that same guy?”
“I can only assume. It came from Travis’s number. He said he hoped I was enjoying church.”
She gasped. “That means he was there.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you going to do?”
I glanced around. “I don’t know what I can do. I told Chase. But there were probably fifteen hundred people at this service. There’s no way I was going to find him in that crowd.”
“I can’t argue with that, but you need to be careful, girlfriend.”
“I will.”
She paused. “Listen, do you want to come eat at church with us? My cousin Barbara brought her world-famous chicken pot pie, and there’s already a line to get some. I’ll fight my way to the front to reserve some for you, if you’d like. I might have to beat my baby brothers away, but it’s a task I’m willing to take on for you. My momma says you need more meat on your bones anyway. Have you lost weight lately?”
I ignored her question about my weight, and I smiled at the image of her fighting for chicken pot pie. And then I began to immediately formulate a response. I pressed my lips together, knowing exactly how my explanation would sound and really not wanting to deal with her reaction. But I had no choice.
“I’m actually meeting someone for lunch,” I blurted, absently rubbing my thumb across the smooth tabletop.
“It’s not Chase, is it?” Concern laced her voice, and her playfulness disappeared.
“Why would you say that?” I knew exactly why. She knew I was having trouble getting over the man. She’d seen me shed tears and withdraw from my normally perky self.
“I don’t know,” Jamie said. “There’s something about the way you look at Chase that always makes me wonder if you’ll stand by your convictions.”
My spine stiffened. “Of course I will.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you’re wishy-washy. I just know how hard it is when your heart says one thing and your head another.”
I leaned back in the chair, Jamie’s words hitting me in the gut and dropping with a dull thud. I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. “It’s true. Warring within yourself is a difficult thing. I just keep trying to feed the rational side of me and starve the emotional one.”
“What else can you do except act out on some sound psychological mumbo jumbo? Don’t get me wrong—there’s a lot of truth in that mumbo jumbo.”
“But catchphrases are great to recite and much harder to live out,” I finished.
“You’ll get no argument from me. Everyone might say follow your heart, but God says follow Me.”
“Preach it, girl,” I said.
“All day, I’m living it out, girl. So, who are you meeting?” Jamie asked.
“Drew Williams.”
A second passed.
“The mighty fine man from the police station?” My friend’s voice lilted upward with satisfied curiosity.
Well . . . “the mighty fine man from the police station” was one way to put it. “I ran into him at church.”
She let out a feisty hm hm. “Now this is no mumbo jumbo. Drew Williams sounds like the perfect way to get over Chase. At least one of us is having some luck.”
“We’re just meeting as friends,” I corrected.
“Well, you have fun with your new friend. We’ll talk later. And I want details. Lots and lots of details.”
“Sounds good, Jamie.” I hit End just as Drew walked inside.
He scanned the crowd. When he spotted me, his eyes lit and a smile spread across his face, instantly putting me at ease. He strode toward me and pulled out a chair.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he started. “Even though we have a bookkeeper at the church, we always have a deacon on duty to count the offering, just for accountability purposes.”
“Sounds wise. I was just catching up with my friend for a minute.”
He glanced around the hole-in-the-wall. “Looks like a hidden treasure type of place. Do you come here often?”
“Only a few times. The owner’s daughter is a part of the youth program where I volunteer. She invited me once, on the house. I’ve tried to come back since then. There’s nothing like supporting local business owners
, you know.”
“Makes sense to me.” He picked up a menu from the center of the table. “So, what’s good?”
“My favorite is the Mediterranean bowl. Quinoa, olives, chicken, feta.”
“You had me at olives.”
“Then you’d love that dish.”
He closed his menu. “It’s decided then.”
He flagged the waitress over. We both ordered the same dish, along with water with lemon to drink and some hummus for an appetizer.
Drew slid the menu back into place and turned to me. “So, I hardly know where to start. Asking you to tell me about yourself seems too broad and generic. How about this instead: what do you do for a living, Holly?”
“I work for Senator Ralph Paladin. I’m a community liaison.”
He tilted his head. “I see.”
“In full disclosure, Ralph is also my brother.”
“Nothing wrong with working for family. I’m kind of fond of that myself. In fact, I think it’s kind of cool. What did you do before that?”
I had to admit that Drew had great listening skills. His fingers were laced on the table, his eyes were on me and me alone, and nothing else seemed important to him.
“I was a social worker.”
“Admirable career.”
“I enjoyed it. It was rewarding, but it had its challenges. People are often caught up in unhealthy cycles, and their children are the ones who ultimately pay the price. Seeing the dark side of human nature can affect a person’s mental well-being after a while, so the break has been nice.”
He straightened his sleeves and leaned forward a bit. “I’m probably being too forward—again.”
“Is this a constant problem?”
“It doesn’t happen very often. Only when I meet someone who’s worth being forward with.”
My cheeks heated.
He must have enjoyed that reaction because a smile tugged at his lips. “I’m curious about why you were at the police station last night. Did you know Travis?”
I shook my head, feeling a touch of self-consciousness heat my cheeks again. I knew there was no shame in online dating—a lot of people did it. But it seemed so desperate to me.
Random Acts of Fraud (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 5) Page 4
