“I like how you think,” I said. “Let’s go.”
No sooner had Jamie and I been seated at Bombay Joe’s and ordered some carrot halwa, did a familiar figure stride into the restaurant.
Chase.
And his laser eyes, which seemed to have a tracking device targeted to find me, went right to our table.
His face darkened, and he bypassed the hostess and charged right toward me.
He knew me well enough to know why I was here; this wasn’t a coincidence. But what I wondered was why he was here. Certainly, this had been one of the first places he’d come. The fact that he’d returned three days after the crime must mean this place was significant.
“Jamie.” He nodded tersely at my friend before nodding even more tersely at me. “Holly. Fancy running into the two of you here.”
I rolled my shoulders back. “What a small world.”
“Not really.”
Before I could object, he slid in beside me. As soon as our shoulders brushed, my entire body felt rigid. Or was it alive? The lines were so blurry sometimes.
“Do you two want to tell me what you’re doing here? And don’t tell me you came for the mango ice cream.”
“It was for the carrot halwa, actually.” I raised my chin higher.
“The what?”
“It’s this carrot pudding. It has—” I stopped myself. “Never mind.”
Even I knew I wouldn’t sound convincing if I tried to tell him how good it was. Carrot pudding wasn’t exactly my dessert of choice. Ever. Chase would know me well enough to know that.
“Uh-huh,” Chase muttered.
I laced my fingers together. “And what brings you here?”
He stared at me, a half flash of amusement, half flash of frustration twinkling in his eyes. “I think you know why I’m here.”
“You’re stalking me?”
He let his head fall toward his shoulder. “Really?”
“You had a hankering for Indian food?”
“Never.”
“Then I’m all out of guesses.”
He sighed and leaned back. “I know I don’t need to tell you this, but you shouldn’t get involved in this investigation.”
“Involved would be a strong word,” I argued. “I’m having carrot pudding.”
The waitress delivered our dish right then, and both Jamie and I lost our appetite when we saw it. We’d chosen the carrot dessert because Jamie thought she could eat it since it was gluten free. It was apparently free from any appeal also—unless you really liked carrots.
“By all means, go ahead and enjoy it.” Chase nodded at the dish.
As a surge of pride rose in me, I lifted the spoon, determined to save face. I scooped up a decent sized spoonful and daintily placed it in my mouth, careful to appear like I was eating a delicacy.
As the texture hit my taste buds, I fought the urge to gag.
I’d never really liked carrots. Or pudding. I was more of a cookie and pie gal.
Despite that, I forced myself to swallow. “Delicious. Do you want to try some?”
“I’ll pass.” Chase stared at me, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was onto me.
Jamie cleared her throat. I’d nearly forgotten she was there, and she’d noticed. She sounded slightly offended as she asked, “Did you check out Dr. Gilbert’s alibi?”
“Numerous witnesses verified he was at the bar almost all night.”
“Any updates on Ronald Dillow?” I asked.
Chase finally broke his gaze and released a subtle breath. “None that I can share.”
I guessed when we stopped dating I lost my privileges of getting little snippets on his cases. Of course, he’d never shared anything that he was professionally banned from saying. But occasionally he would reveal things he’d learned that were within reason.
“Is there anything you can share?” Jamie continued.
His voice was all business when he responded, “No.”
That answered the question for me as to whether or not he’d be forthcoming. He was playing this cool and trying to keep me far away from the investigation. But he didn’t know what I knew, and I wasn’t going to share it with him. Not yet, at least. Mostly because I knew what his response would be: stay away.
He slid out of the booth. “Enjoy your carrot pudding.”
I wished I didn’t feel so deflated after he left. But I did.
“Get that look out of your eyes,” Jamie said.
“What look?”
“The puppy that just lost her home look.”
I laughed—quickly, sarcastically—and sarcasm was never becoming. It was a defense mechanism right now, though. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“At least you have Drew now to distract you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good reason to ever date anyone. Drew deserves to be more than a distraction.”
“Don’t overthink this. Just get to know him. I have a feeling your thoughts will be more on him than on Chase, after all.”
“You think?”
She nodded. “I think.”
This morning, I sat at work and tried to focus. I was having a hard time.
Instead, I reviewed what I knew—or didn’t know, for that matter. The three employees Jamie and I had talked to at Bombay Joe’s last night didn’t appear to know anything. Or, more likely, Chase had told them on the way out not to talk to us. Which would explain his quiet conversation and pointed look while chatting with the manager.
In other words, I’d eaten carrot pudding for nothing.
Every lead seemed to be drying up.
At ten, I was informed that I had someone who wanted to see me. I looked up and spotted a man and woman I didn’t recognize. She was tall with big blonde hair and heavy eye makeup. The man was short with thinning hair and a suit that looked about twenty years old.
I directed them to a conference room, deciding that privacy was a great option here since I had no idea what to expect from this conversation. I’d had some doozies during my tenure working for Ralph.
As soon as I closed the door, the woman threw her arms around me and sobbed into my hair. I stiffened.
What in the world was going on? With a touch of hesitation, I reluctantly patted her back.
“Oh, Holly,” she said, stepping back and wiping the tears from beneath her eyes. “I’m so happy to finally meet. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
I had no idea what circumstances she was talking about.
No sooner had she released me than the man also pulled me into a hug.
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” he muttered.
Were they talking about . . . Travis?
When the man pulled away, the couple both stood there and stared at me with tears in their eyes. They were obviously waiting for my reaction, for my response, and for things to magically click into place in my mind.
I’d never felt so awkward in my life.
“I . . . uh . . .” What did I even say? “You are . . . ?”
The woman waved a hand in the air. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably overwhelmed and not thinking clearly. I know we are also. But we’ve heard so much about you that we feel like we know you.”
“Is that right?” I was still trying to piece this all together but with no luck.
“We’re Travis’s parents,” the man said. “Mr. and Mrs. Hooker. Or you can just call us Mom and Dad.”
My stomach dropped. This was not good. Not good at all.
“I think there might be a misunderstanding—”
“He was head over heels in love with you,” Mama Hooker said, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “Couldn’t say enough good things about his Holly Bear.”
Facts began settling in my mind like a doomsday checklist, and I desperately wanted to be anywhere but here having this conversation. “Travis even told you I worked here, huh?”
Which was weird since I’d never told Travis that.
This whole mystery
deepened.
“Oh, yes,” Papa Hooker said. “He was so proud of you. He always talked about all the mysteries you were solving.”
How in the world had he known that? I had helped to solve a few mysteries in the past, but it wasn’t exactly common knowledge.
Mama Hooker sniffled and ran a lacy handkerchief beneath her eyes. “Which is just one more reason why we had to find you here today. You meant so much to him. Because of that, you mean so much to us also.”
This was getting worse instead of better. “But—”
Mama Hooker straightened and squeezed my shoulder. “We’re having a luncheon for all of Travis’s friends today. I’m so glad we were able to find you. Your number is unlisted! We didn’t think we’d ever find you, so we just came here on a whim.”
“My apologies that it was such a headache in an already difficult time,” I said, wondering about the wisdom of my words.
“Oh, go figure you’d say something so sweet when you have to be hurting so much.” Mama Hooker hugged me again. “We’re meeting at Travis’s favorite restaurant to commemorate him in an hour and a half. You’ll be there won’t you?”
I released my pent up breath and forced a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
There were several problems I faced after that conversation, starting with the fact that I had no idea what Travis’s favorite restaurant was. Then there was the fact that I’d never even met Travis face-to-face. But he’d obviously researched me, a factor that made me more than a little uneasy.
Had he purposefully picked me out on that dating site? But why? And how was I going to break the news to his grieving family that we weren’t dating?
I searched my memories for any hints that he may have given in our online conversations as to where he liked to eat. Had he mentioned a restaurant?
The Yellow Turtle.
That’s where we were supposed to eat that night. Could it be because it was his favorite place?
I made a quick call and asked if there was a large reservation at noon. The hostess confirmed there was.
That had to be the place.
I could hardly concentrate as I tried to squeeze some work in. Finally, I grabbed my purse. I was going to the luncheon, and I would walk there since it was only a few blocks away.
As anxiety built in me, I knew I needed to hash this out with someone before I arrived. Thankfully, Jamie answered the phone, and I poured it all out to her.
“For real? This would only happen to you, Holly.” She snorted, sounding way too entertained by this. “What are you going to do, girl?”
I remembered the hopeful look on their faces. “I have no idea. I have to let them know that we weren’t really dating. I just don’t have the heart to burst their bubble in the middle of their grief.”
“And that’s just one more thing to love about you.”
I dodged crowds of other professionals who were also out seeking a place to eat on the sunny day. Something else was bothering me, I realized. Really bothering me. “I just don’t understand how Travis had all this information on me.”
“Things aren’t what they seemed, are they?”
“No, they’re not.” I stopped in front of the restaurant and frowned as I faced this dreadful task. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I’m here.”
“Let me know what happens. This is more entertaining than watching reruns of Scandal.”
I walked into The Yellow Turtle and paused. The scent of fried chicken and other home-style foods teased me. This place was downhome with a modern twist. I scanned the dining area and saw a crowd had gathered in a back room.
That must be the Hooker party.
As I stepped that way, the first person I saw was Drew. Our gazes met, and I shrugged apologetically.
How was I going to explain this?
I could kiss any future with him goodbye.
Before I could make my way toward him, the Hookers found me and gave me big bear hugs again. They acted like I was a long-lost daughter.
I couldn’t tell them right now, especially since they already had so much grief.
As a waitress interrupted to chat with them about lunch, I scanned the room again. I didn’t know anyone else here besides Drew. But I did recognize Ronald Dillow from the photo I’d seen online. Interesting that he’d come, especially considering the allegations against him. I needed to talk to him.
“Okay, everyone!” Mama Hooker said, clapping her hands. “We went ahead and ordered a buffet lunch for everyone. Come and eat. I’ve also brought pictures of Travis so we can all remember him. Please feel free to take a look. I’ve left them on the table in the corner. It means so much that you’d all be here right now to remember my sweet boy.” Her voice caught.
Poor woman. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a son. Losing a father had been hard enough.
I edged toward the buffet line, which was already full. As I passed the photos, I stopped cold.
There were pictures of Travis. And me. Lots of them. Pictures of us as the sun set behind us with silhouettes of palm trees. Another of us with a snowy mountain in the background. Still another one of us at the park . . . it was just like the picture of Chase and I at the park, only instead of Chase, it was Travis’s face.
What . . . ?
He must have digitally altered them.
My mouth dropped open.
“So . . .” someone said behind me.
I turned and saw Drew staring at the pictures. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and a melancholy expression captured his face.
“This is weird,” I started.
“You could have just told me if you were dating Travis,” he said quietly. “I would have been okay with that.”
“I never met Travis,” I whispered. “I told you the truth.”
He narrowed his eyes with doubt and nodded toward the pictures. Questions lingered in his gaze.
“They were photoshopped. That’s the only way to explain it.”
He still looked unconvinced. “Then why are you here?”
I leaned closer. “Apparently, Travis told his parents we were dating. They tracked me down at work—because I guess Travis knew where I worked and told them—and insisted I come.”
His eyes widened. “You didn’t correct them?”
“I could hardly get a word in.”
“But you came anyway?”
I shrugged.
“You’re one interesting lady, Holly Paladin.”
I crossed my arms. “I never set out to be interesting.”
“And that only makes you even more interesting.” He offered a soft smile.
Just then, the Hookers joined me again.
“Drew, I suppose you already know Travis’s girlfriend, Holly,” Mama Hooker said. “We can’t tell you how happy we were that he finally met such a nice girl. It gives us such comfort to know he was happy in his final days.”
I offered a weak smile and looked at Drew.
A mix of amusement and compassion mingled in his gaze.
This was going to be interesting.
I decided to forgo eating. Instead, I would mingle and try to dig up some information.
Someone had cornered Drew. Based on the man’s body language, I couldn’t imagine Drew getting away any time soon. Maybe that was for the best. I couldn’t appear too buddy-buddy with Drew when the Hookers thought I’d been dating their son.
What a mess.
I needed to fix it. Sometime. But maybe I’d let them have their moment now.
Instead, I spotted Ronald Dillow across the room, standing by himself. This was my opportunity.
“You’re Travis’s girlfriend, right?” he said. “I saw the pictures. That son of a gun never even told me he’d found someone to go steady with.”
He jangled his keys in his pockets. The man looked uncomfortable, at best; like an outcast, at worst.
“It’s complicated.”
Ronald laughed—the sound loud, clipped, and amused. “It always was with T
ravis.”
“You were his boss?”
He nodded, looking around the room with a strange look in his eyes. “That’s right. I’m apparently also a suspect. That’s probably why no one here is really talking to me.”
“I’m sorry.” Was that the right thing to say? Or should I look horrified? I decided to keep it real. “Why would people think you’re a suspect?”
“Travis and I . . . we’d had some disagreements lately.” He shifted, his level of discomfort obviously skyrocketing.
“What about?”
“Stuff that would bore you. But, long story short, I expect my employees to honor my good name. It’s no different than Drew Williams’s philosophy. He feels very firmly that reputation is everything in this business. Some people complained about Travis. Said his gaze was shifty at their houses and that made them uncomfortable.”
“I see.”
“Another man said he caught Travis going through his dead wife’s lingerie drawer.” Ron wiped the sweat from his head. “As you can imagine, that wasn’t a fun discussion.”
That would be Dr. Dan Gilbert.
“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t fire him.” I watched his reaction.
He wiped his forehead again. “I tried to. But he said he was turning things around. That he’d gone through a rough patch, but that was going to change.”
Interesting. “Do you have any idea what that meant?”
He shook his head. “No idea. But things weren’t turning around. He was acting as strange as ever lately. Not to speak poorly of the dead, but his death has put a strain on us—all of us, from my business to Wilford Funeral Home. I’ve worked with that family for a long time, and I hate to see good people’s names run through the mud.”
I stepped closer, turning so my back was no longer toward the room. I wanted to watch the crowd. “So, do you have any idea who might have wanted him dead? I’ve hardly been able to sleep thinking about it. I’ve been having nightmares, for that matter.”
“Not really,” he said. “But I did overhear a nasty fight between Travis and Raul.”
“Raul?” There was a name I hadn’t heard before.
Ronald nodded at someone in the distance. “It’s Drew’s brother. If I were the police, he’d be the one I’d look at.”
Random Acts of Fraud (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 5) Page 8
