I loved Chase, but did I have a future with him? And if I didn’t have a future with him, then why were we together? Our decisions in life should have a purpose. In my estimation, dating was for marriage. If marriage wasn’t the end goal, then the relationship needed to cease. The parties involved needed to move on.
My throat burned.
I wanted to be with Chase. I wanted our future to be together. I dreamed about a happy-ever-after with him at my side.
But what if that never happened?
“What are you thinking?” Chase whispered as we sat on the couch drinking coffee after dinner.
I glanced around, my mind reeling. My heart reeling. I wanted life to be simple and clear-cut. Life-changing decisions made it feel complicated.
This wasn’t the place to hash it out, though.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
“You look like you’re in another world.”
My cheeks burned. He knew me well enough to know something was wrong. He looked genuinely concerned—concerned enough that I questioned every thought that had crossed my mind in the last five minutes. In the last week, if I were to be honest.
Chase understood me. He loved me. He took care of me.
But did our end goals line up? Would they ever? Or was he just stringing me along? Maybe not even purposefully. Maybe he was simply being true to himself. Maybe he thought it wouldn’t be fair to me to pretend he was ready for something that he wasn’t ready for.
But I loved him.
“Holly?” His breath brushed my cheek as he whispered into my ear.
I reached over and squeezed his hand, unsure what else to say. Should I call him outside? Ask to talk to him? To really talk and share my fears and insecurities and concerns?
I should, I decided.
Chase’s phone chose that moment to ring—yes, I knew the thought was irrational. But that was how it felt at the moment.
He stepped away and put it to his ear. I have to admit that I lingered close, curious as to what the phone call was about. Especially when his back went rigid.
When the call ended, he turned toward me. His expression looked stormy. “They think they found Jonah.”
Chapter 26
“I’m going with you,” I announced, my thoughts catapulting into a million directions. I followed behind him as he rushed to the front door.
Chase halted mid-step and turned toward me. “You can’t, Holly. The best thing you can do is stay here.”
“But if it’s Jonah, he’ll need someone to hold him, to take care of him. Someone he knows.” Me. He needed me.
Chase bit down and studied me. “Fine. Come with me. But you can’t insert yourself in the situation without permission. Understand?”
I nodded a little too eagerly. “Understood.”
We climbed into his police-issued sedan, and, before I even got my seatbelt on, Chase charged down the road. He was as anxious for answers as I was.
Could this be Jonah? I prayed that it was. I prayed that he was okay. I prayed for resolution.
My earlier discussion with Chase was now forgotten. Nothing else mattered but Jonah. I so desperately wanted to hold him in my arms again. To kiss his forehead. To see him drool as he smiled.
Please let him be okay.
It took fifteen minutes before we pulled up to a house on the north side of town. Police cars already surrounded the place, as well as an ambulance and a fire truck.
Three different vans were parked out front with news station emblems decorating the sides. Reporters with cameras and notepads waited on the street for an inside scoop.
Jonah’s abduction had obviously moved from a buried news story to the headline of the day. A kidnapped baby with a missing mom? There was a good chance this would move beyond local news even. Maybe it already had. I largely avoided newspapers whenever I could because the majority of stories there induced worry and paranoia.
We pulled to a stop, and my thoughts tumbled ahead of me, causing nausea to churn in my stomach. What if this was the home of one of the triathletes? What if me keeping quiet about the triathletes had put Jonah in danger?
The thought caused a small cry to lodge in my throat.
I should tell Chase.
But I’d promised Jamie.
My emotions warred inside me, as they’d done so often lately.
But the triathletes had an alibi. They weren’t even here when Jonah was snatched. Withholding that information should not affect this case.
“You can’t go beyond the police line,” Chase told me.
I nodded and followed him out of the car. He strode under the yellow tape, as if he belonged. Because he did. He knew how to own a crime scene. He lived for this stuff, and he was good at it.
I stood by the yellow police tape and shoved those thoughts aside.
I glanced around. For the first time, I didn’t see Evan at the crime scene. Mclean, the officer who’d come to my house after the potential break-in, stood guard at the scene. I even spotted Captain Abbot in the distance.
The captain had come out? That was surprising. The case had obviously been kicked up to high-profile status.
Another car pulled up to the scene, and I spotted Bethany Ellis inside. I rushed to meet her, wondering if her presence meant that Jonah was here.
“They called you?” My stomach squeezed as I said the words.
She nodded as she climbed out of the car and tugged her plaid scarf closer. “I heard they might have found Jonah. Do you know if they did?”
“No idea. I just got here. I came with Chase—Detective Dexter, I mean.”
Her expression remained stoic. “Let me see what I can find out.”
She showed her ID, and then an officer lifted the police tape and she ducked under. I paced, desperately wanting to be on the other side of this investigation. I hated being on the sidelines.
Lord, am I doing the wrong thing with my life? Is that why I’ve felt dissatisfied lately?
By the time Chase emerged and walked over to me I couldn’t feel my fingers or nose. The darkness outside had only deepened as the night wore on, and I still hadn’t seen Jonah yet.
Dear Jonah. Sweet Jonah. Are you here?
“Well?” I could hardly breathe as I asked the question.
He frowned. “He’s not here, but it looks like he may have been. The house was empty when we arrived. A neighbor called and said he saw a baby here earlier today.”
“I take it that was unusual?”
He nodded. “There are also diapers and bottles, which is unusual since this woman doesn’t have any children. There’s also evidence that someone has been stalking Katie. There are pictures of her and Gage. There’s a stolen gun. We believe it may match the weapon that killed a woman downtown last night.”
Morgan Bayfield, I realized.
“Who lives here?” I held my breath as I waited for his response.
His frown deepened. “It’s the woman from the gym—the one who argued with Katie. It’s too early to say for sure, but it looks like she may have been behind some of this craziness after all.”
I still felt numb the next morning as I reflected on what I’d learned last night.
The real suspect may have been right in front of us the whole time. That thought bothered me more than I’d realized. I should have followed up. If I had, maybe Jonah would still be safe right now.
I’d stuck around the crime scene for longer than I should have last night. But I’d learned a few things from various people I talked to. I’d learned that the woman who lived at the house was named Ingrid Palmer. She had a history of being unstable and obsessive. Apparently, Katie had been her latest obsession, and it mostly stemmed from their confrontations at the gym.
The police hadn’t found her yet—at least, that was the last I’d heard. But they believed she was working with someone and had snatched Jonah. Maybe she was longing for a child of her own. I didn’t know—I hadn’t been able to piece it all together.
Somethin
g about it didn’t quite fit for me, and I wasn’t sure what. I mean, people went off their rockers and did crazy things for no apparent explanation all the time. But had Ingrid really killed Gage? Had Katie taken off and left Jonah with me, feeling he was safer in my care than in her own—at least while Ingrid was after her? Had Ingrid discovered Jonah’s location and intricately plotted to abduct him?
Furthermore, why was Katie seen talking to one of the triathletes? How did that tie in with all of this?
Despite the new developments, I still wanted to talk to Wesley today. Maybe it was a waste of time. Maybe it wasn’t. But until the police found Ingrid and she confessed, I was going to keep searching for answers.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I picked it up from my dresser and glanced at the screen. Chase had sent me a message.
Heathcliff’s prints found on the gun from last night.
Heathcliff? So he was connected with this somehow. I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around everything, yet failing. The web of deceit in this case was wide and intricate.
After I got dressed, I thumped downstairs. I heard two voices. My mom’s and . . . someone else’s. My curiosity spiked.
As I rounded the corner, I spotted my mom and Officer Truman sitting at the breakfast nook sharing coffee and pastries. Officer Truman wasn’t dressed like he normally was—he didn’t have on his police uniform. Instead he wore khakis and a gray sweater that matched his eyes.
The two of them were looking at something on the electronic tablet, and they laughed together.
“Oh, Holly. Good morning,” my mom said. “I didn’t have a chance to talk to you last night and tell you that Larry was coming over for breakfast.”
Larry? She was on a first-name basis with him?
I nodded toward Larry. “Good morning.”
He stood and nodded back. “Good morning, Holly.”
“Today must be your day off.” I walked past and grabbed a coffee mug.
“Just this morning. I head in to start my shift after lunch.”
As I filled my cup with steaming liquid, I peered at the table. “What are you two watching?”
He sat back down—a little too close to my mom. “Cat videos. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. I’m actually learning how to use this tablet. It’s kind of handy.”
Cat videos? Oh my.
And when had all of this transpired? How? Through searching for my father’s biological family?
“I heard there was some excitement last night,” Officer Truman—Larry—said, looking away from the tablet.
I nodded and filled my mom in.
“Have you heard any updates?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.
He shook his head. “I wish I had, but no.”
“I do hope they find that precious boy.” Mom shook her head, her skin paling as she spoke about Jonah. “He deserves a safe place, you know?”
That was right. Jonah did deserve a safe place. Children, in general, deserve safe places—emotionally and physically.
That was why I wasn’t giving up on this until Jonah was found.
I glanced at my watch.
It was time to pick up Jamie and pay a visit to her friend Wesley.
An hour later, Jamie and I pulled up to a lovely house located on the top of a hill with stunning views of the Ohio River. The home was Tudor style, massive, and well-kept.
“This is where Wesley lives?” I questioned, staring up at the house.
She nodded. “He has his own computer IT firm. It must pay pretty well.”
“You’ve been here before, I take it?”
She may have blushed. “To do the article. And then they had a little party last weekend, and I stopped by for a few minutes.”
“Nice.”
We climbed the steps to his front door, and I wondered if he was even home. Although he’d just competed in a race yesterday, Jamie made it sound like he worked out at every opportunity.
I hoped he was here now, and I also hoped things didn’t turn ugly. Especially if this was all about guns.
Sarah had said the man she’d seen Katie speaking with was a light-skinned African-American man. Wesley, according to Jamie, had darker skin and liked to shave his head.
That was the good news.
The bad news was two-fold: Anthony was the light-skinned one of the group and, if the three of these triathletes really were sworn blood brothers, they could all be in on it.
Wesley answered a few minutes after we rang the bell, and his eyes lit up when he saw Jamie.
This was the first time I’d seen him in person, and I observed him carefully. He was handsome, with a bright smile and sculpted body. His plastic-rimmed glasses gave him a smart vibe—a bit of nerdy cute. Jamie had said that he’d been geeky in high school and considered himself a late bloomer.
In fact, all three of the triathletes had talked about being bullied and how they were using the changes in their lives to be a positive role model to others. I could see it. My initial impression was smart, athletic, and down–to-earth.
There was nothing not to like about him—unless he was a killer.
“What are you doing here? You come over to do another story on me?” Wesley preened in an overdramatic, goofy manner.
Jamie smiled, almost looking nervous. “I’ll do another story on you anytime.”
It was at that moment that I realized just how nice Jamie looked today. She’d worn her favorite jeans and a flattering sweater that showed off her shrinking waistline. However, her actions seemed subdued. Even her hair seemed to have lost a little of its spring.
I knew what she was thinking. Her heart had already been broken once by someone who’d pretended to like her. Another betrayal would desperately set her back in her pursuit of love.
Oh my. She had it bad. Jamie never looked nervous.
“I’m not sure there’s much else you could write about me. I’m a pretty boring guy.”
Jamie’s smile faded. “Actually, I wished we were doing a story. Can we talk?”
Some of the lightheartedness faded from his gaze, replaced with a touch of worry and curiosity. “Of course. Come in.”
“This is my friend, Holly.”
I shook his hand before stepping inside.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.
“Hopefully, it was all good.”
“You know it. Said you were like two peas in a pod.”
“That’s how good friends usually are.” As I said the words, I wondered about the truth in them. Even if Wesley knew something about one of his friends, would he admit to it? Was he in on it? Or was all of this for nothing?
I had no idea yet. I hoped we might learn something soon, though.
“How did the triathlon go?” Jamie asked as we lingered in the two-story foyer.
“Great. I landed one of my best times yet.”
“Congrats.” She shifted uneasily. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
He grinned. “Just taxes. You’re much more interesting.”
More romantic words had never been spoken.
I marveled at the inside of the place. The woodwork was amazing and intricate. And the walls were made from shiplap. I was obsessed with shiplap after watching too many shows on HGTV.
My dad, who’d loved to work with wood, would have been impressed with the interior design. He’d fixed up our family home, even adding some secret passages, just for fun. It was one of the many qualities I’d loved about him.
“Nice place.”
“I like it.” He leaned against a dark wooden banister. “I restored the whole thing. It was unlivable when I bought it.”
“Fascinating,” I muttered. The place was undoubtedly gorgeous. I wondered if he ever did any work on the side.
The thought startled me because I’d instantly thought of the little bungalow my mom had shown me. What would it be like to fix it up? To have a place of my own?
Wesley led us to a library that smelled l
ike leather and lemon Pledge. Not a bad combination, in my estimation, at least. The room was located off the entryway. Right as I walked in, I spotted an open Bible on a desk in the corner.
I really hoped he didn’t end up being one of the bad guys—on so many levels I wished that.
He pointed to the leather couch. “Have a seat.”
We did. He sat across from us.
“Now, what brings you here? It’s not a social visit, I assume. Not based on the looks on your faces. If you two didn’t both have me so nervous, I’d offer you some coffee. I don’t think I can make myself wait long enough to make it. I’m anxious to hear what you have to say.”
“I wish it was a social visit,” Jamie started, her face deadly serious. “I have a question about Anthony.”
I wanted to pat her back as a reassurance, but I was afraid it would make her even more nervous.
“What about him?” Wesley shifted and rubbed his hands on his jeans.
“Did you ever see him talking to this woman?” She pulled up a picture of Katie on her phone and showed it to him.
Wesley studied the photo before shaking his head. “I can’t say I have. What’s this about?”
I didn’t see any flashes of recognition or signs of deceit.
I was going to have to trust Jamie here on how much to tell him. It was her call, and I knew she’d make a good choice.
“He was one of the last people seen with a woman who’s missing and a baby who’s been kidnapped.” Jamie’s chest heaved a little too hard.
Any semblance of a smile left Wesley. “What?”
Jamie nodded. “It’s true. We think Anthony was seen with this woman last Thursday. He met her at her car as she was leaving the sitter’s house.”
He rubbed a hand over his head. “Is this the baby who was abducted, the one who’s been on the news?”
Jamie nodded.
“You think Anthony has something to do with it?”
“We don’t know. We’re just looking for answers,” I said, jumping in before Jamie passed out from not breathing properly. “We were hoping you knew something.”
Random Acts of Greed: Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries, Book 4 Page 17