Random Acts of Malice (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 3)

by Christy Barritt

  Jamie twisted her head again, this time with inquisitiveness. “You think he’s into gambling?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t think he gambled. It’s never come up in conversation.”

  She leaned back, looking deep in thought with her hyperfocused gaze and her fingers laced together in front of her. “He used to have a drinking problem, right? Don’t these things go hand in hand?”

  My stomach clenched at the thought. Was Chase hiding a demon like that from me? Did he not realize that I’d be willing to help him? That I’d still be there for him? That thought hurt in a different way than his deception. “As addictions go, the two are related.”

  “I just can’t see it, Holly.” Jamie shook her head, her orange dangly earrings slapping her cheeks. “I don’t see him betting his hard-earned cash. I thought he was saving up so he could buy you a ring. This doesn’t fit.”

  I leaned back, trying to deny my conclusions. But I couldn’t hold my thoughts back any longer. I needed feedback. “I knew this woman once, Jamie. We went to church together, and she was married to the perfect man. I mean, seriously, he seemed like the ideal spouse. He was polite and funny and always said the right thing. Together, this couple was like Barbie and Ken.”

  “I’m assuming you’re going somewhere with this?”

  “It turns out the husband was producing pornography. Even more sadly, he’d been doing it for years without being discovered. No one had a clue.”

  Jamie gasped. “You think Chase is producing—”

  I raised a hand to halt her thought.

  “No, no, no.” Each “no” had a different emotion behind it. Surprise. Embarrassment. Conviction. “No on so many levels. Maybe that was a bad illustration. The point is that no one really knew this man. He had this entirely different life that he hid, and he hid it well. No one saw through his perfectly crafted facades.”

  Jamie squinted and assumed her counselor position again—only this time she tilted her head analytically. “I thought you trusted Chase, Holly.”

  “Can you ever completely trust anyone?”

  She glanced at her watch and then stood, tapping her foot. “Come on.”

  “Come on where?” I had no idea where she was going with this.

  “There’s only one way to solve this. We’re going to Louisville. Admit it: you’re chomping at the bit to get answers.”

  I groaned. “Chomping at the bit?”

  “Smart money says we should check things out.”

  I didn’t even bother to respond, lest she spout more racing expressions. I grabbed my purse and pushed aside my doubts.

  And with that . . . we were off.

  Chapter Two

  We found a parking space in the massive lot outside the arena-like racetrack. Cars were neatly arranged in rows for as far as I could see. Bright lights illuminated the track beyond the stands, and I could hear an announcer speaking to the crowds.

  Before we got out of the van, I reached behind me and pulled out a wide-brimmed hat I’d grabbed before I left home. I placed it on my head, even though it was almost too big to wear in the van. The edges hit the seat behind me and the window beside me and nearly took out Jamie’s eyes.

  “What are you doing? This isn’t Churchill Downs or the Kentucky Derby.” Jamie had that incredulous, diva-like look on her face.

  I pulled the brim lower, hoping to make the hat sit even on my head. I wished I had a mirror to double-check. “Oh, come on. When else will I have a chance to wear this?”

  She stared at my black hat and raised an eyebrow. “A funeral, maybe?”

  I scowled, figuring if anyone would understand my dilemma, it would be Jamie. “This will help conceal my face. I don’t want Chase to recognize me.”

  “And you think that’s not going to draw attention?” She dropped her head, but her eyes remained on me in the sassy urban manner I loved her for.

  She acted as if I was wearing a sombrero and flamingo feathers. I was halfway insulted, but I pushed past it. “Well . . . it’s the best I can do at the moment. What do you want me to do? Wear a baseball cap with this outfit?”

  The black scoop-neck dress with the flared skirt was feminine. My oversized hat would match it perfectly.

  “More power to you. These are your monkeys, and this is your circus.” She wrapped a scarf around her head several times and subdued her curly semi-afro.

  “My life is a three-ring show. What can I say?” I placed my sunglasses over my eyes.

  “Sunglasses too? It’s dark outside.” Jamie gave me an exasperated half-Diva.

  I shrugged, finally owning up to the fact that my outfit might be over the top. I hadn’t had much time to plan, though. We’d swung by my house before we left, and I grabbed the first things I could think of. “Okay, I know it’s a bit much. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  We climbed from the van, and as soon as my heels hit the asphalt, I shivered. It wasn’t cold for the September night. My shiver came from somewhere internal. I really hoped this didn’t all blow up. I hadn’t had much luck with things not blowing up, however.

  I’d learned the hard way that good intentions paved the path to . . . trouble. Lots of trouble.

  My anticipation grew with each step. I glanced at the entryway to Wyndmyer and sucked in a breath as I tried to brace myself. A huge set of steps led to a third-floor entrance. “Wyndmyer Park” was displayed in large letters above the entryway, along with the silhouettes of two running horses.

  Stone benches were located along the edges of the long walk toward the steps. Despite the grandiose entrance, the walls of the building appeared to be metal with the color fading. Landscaping looked to be neglected with weeds overgrowing the beds around saplings. It was almost as if the glory days of this place had passed.

  As we stepped inside the building, I pulled my hat lower and scanned my surroundings for the first time. It reminded me a bit of a baseball stadium, only a little more upper class. TV screens graced various walls, broadcasting the race to those inside, an announcer blared from the overhead, and people chattered in the stands. Several machines where people could place their bets stood strategically along the walls.

  Though it might initially seem similar to a baseball game, it smelled nothing like one. It smelled like animals and dirt. At the moment, it also smelled like sewage, thanks to the nearby restrooms.

  There appeared to be three levels of seating—the nosebleed area on the dirt right next to the track, midlevel seats with narrow tables running across them, and another area that offered box seats and club seating.

  Three levels? I mentally sighed. How was I ever going to find Chase? My app would only show me his general location. I was on my own from here out.

  As we strolled along the deck, I kept my motions cautious and subtle. There was no need to draw any more attention to ourselves than my hat was already drawing. We paused and took a moment to gather our surroundings.

  “There are a lot of people here, Jamie,” I whispered, feeling a bit like a spy. “This will be like finding the proverbial needle in the haystack.”

  “If the Navy SEALs can smoke out bin Laden, we can find Chase.”

  I blinked, certain I hadn’t heard her correctly. “The Navy SEALs? You know we’re nothing like special ops, rights?”

  “Oh, I’m special all right, and this is what I call an opportunity like no other.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the stands. “Come on.”

  My heart pounded in my chest with each step. If Chase was here, I prayed that he didn’t spot me. I didn’t even have a good excuse. What would I tell him?

  I was following you on my Friend Finder app.

  Fancy running into you here. Who would have thought?

  You forgot the cookies and cake I baked you on Sunday. I wanted to bring them to you before they went to waste.

  I’d sound desperate. Maybe I was desperate, though.

  Jamie and I found two empty seats midlevel. We’d apparently arrived j
ust in time, because all around us, people cheered and drank and waved wagers in their hands. In the distance, horses, lean and muscular, sprinted around the track. Small, trim-looking jockeys perched atop them, appearing more like plastic figurines than real people.

  “You see him yet?” Jamie whispered, leaning closer.

  I scanned the people around me. Chase was hard to miss. I just had to look for Thor’s clean-cut twin brother. “No, I don’t see him yet. It’s going to take a while, though.”

  “Besides, maybe he’s . . . volunteering with underprivileged children at a charity event,” Jamie continued, sounding dead serious.

  “He’d have no reason not to tell me that.”

  “Oh . . . maybe one of the underprivileged kids is his!” She said it like she’d struck gold.

  I cut a glance at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  She frowned, all signs of self-proclaimed brilliance gone. “I suppose not.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” I finally muttered. “This seems so invasive.”

  “Just taking a look won’t do any harm.”

  “That’s what David said when he spotted Bathsheba on the rooftop.”

  Her lips formed an O. “True that. I say we stay here a few more minutes and then we can walk around again. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  “That sounds good to me.” I didn’t have any better ideas, so I didn’t argue. This whole stalking thing was new to me.

  The minutes passed slowly. I felt out of my element here. I wanted to leave. I wanted to stay. I wanted answers. I didn’t want answers.

  One thing was certain: from where I was sitting, there was no sign of Chase.

  I nudged Jamie, and we stood. We walked to the back, where a deck surrounded the complex. My gaze continually roamed the area and searched faces.

  I saw rich-looking businessmen. I saw people who looked—and smelled—drunk. I saw women laughing with fruity drinks in their hands.

  Whom I didn’t see was Chase.

  Jamie and I walked each level. We walked from side to side across the back of the decks. We stood at the front of the stands and scanned the crowds.

  Chase was nowhere to be seen.

  It was getting late.

  And this trip had been futile.

  We paused near the entrance, and we both realized there was nothing else we could do here.

  “I’d hoped we might find some answers and put your worries at ease,” Jamie said. “I’m sorry.”

  “We tried. That’s all we can do.”

  My fears hadn’t been alleviated. But the good news was that we hadn’t discovered anything life-changingly bad either. Maybe God had been protecting me.

  As we started back to Jamie’s van, I braced myself for the ride back to Cincinnati. The trip here had taken a long time, but the journey home would seem even longer. My questions still mocked me. Despite that, I was going to have to pull myself together and move on. I supposed I’d find out in eleven days what was going on.

  I hoped.

  We’d parked out in the far end of the parking lot, near the stables adjacent to the track. There were several large RVs and trailers in this area. Maybe they belonged to workers or jockeys. I had no idea. Thankfully the lot was well lit.

  We rounded one of those trailers when something caught my eye. I grabbed Jamie and pulled her behind the trailer.

  “What are you—?”

  I silenced her and pointed toward the distance. I could hardly believe my eyes. “Jamie, it’s . . . Chase.”

  She followed my gaze. “Jackpot!”

  Sure enough, Chase walked out of a back gate. He was dressed casually, wearing jeans and a henley. Not his typical work attire of dress slacks, a button-up shirt, and a tie.

  There was one other thing: he wasn’t alone.

  “Who’s that with him?” Jamie asked, squinting at the person beside him.

  I stared at the stunning brunette and frowned. “That’s his ex-wife.”

  Chapter Three

  “She’s his ex?” Jamie’s eyes were fixed on the woman in the distance as if her favorite movie star had just stepped into the lot.

  “Unfortunately.” I frowned. Peyton was as beautiful as I’d imagined. The cheerleader. The girl every guy wanted to date. The head turner.

  Not to mention she was the woman who’d stolen Chase’s heart and crushed it into a million pieces when she left him behind like a limp horse at the meat factory.

  The woman was gorgeous—had I mentioned that?—with glossy brown hair that cascaded around her shoulders. She was thin with just enough padding in the right places. Her face was flawless, the kind that made the front page of beauty magazines for its perfection.

  Remaining behind the trailer, my hand pressed into the cold metal. I kept my eyes on the two of them. They strolled side by side, a hushed, seemingly pleasant conversation between them, before finally stopping by an oversized black truck.

  “Whose truck is that?” Jamie leaned over me, trying to watch also.

  “Peyton’s, I guess. It’s not Chase’s.” I continued to watch as Peyton leaned against the door, her hands shoved into the pockets of her second-skin jeans. Chase lingered in front of her, listening as she said something.

  The conversation looked serious, based on the way they leaned together and the manner in which Peyton continually glanced around. Chase’s shoulders were tight, just as they’d been when I saw him on Sunday.

  Based on their body language, I tried to form a conclusion about what was going on. I failed. All I could think was that they were getting back together. Then it would make perfect sense why Chase couldn’t tell me any details.

  “How do you know that’s his ex?” Jamie backed up and gave me space to answer.

  I continued to stare, just waiting for Chase to lean toward Peyton and plant a kiss on her lips. The thought made me want to hurl. Betrayal was an ugly beast. I’d never had to deal with it before. Not on this scale at least.

  “I’ve seen pictures of her,” I told Jamie.

  “Chase showed you pictures of his ex-wife?” Her voice rose with agitated disbelief.

  “No, of course not. I found her on Facebook.”

  “You looked her up on Facebook?” Jamie’s voice rose even higher in pitch.

  I shushed her before scowling. Honestly, I couldn’t own up to it at the moment. It sounded desperate. I’d never been desperate. I’d been content in my singleness. In my poorness. Even in the face of death. But my boyfriend went off the grid and I lost it? I go all Navy SEAL and try to track him like a terrorist.

  I needed serious help.

  “I’m not really in the mood to have this conversation now,” I finally said. “I just want to see what happens.”

  She raised her hands in surrender. “I’m not judging. Just surprised. What’s Miss Manners say about Facebook stalking?”

  “I’m not stalking. And Facebook, thankfully, wasn’t around when those etiquette books were published. Besides, that doesn’t matter right now. There are bigger issues at stake. Like: Why couldn’t Chase tell me he was meeting her? There’s only one reason that makes sense.”

  Nausea now roiled in my gut with more intensity. I hoped I didn’t get sick. I had a tendency to hurl when I got stressed. And I felt stressed right now. Really stressed.

  “Don’t think the worst.”

  “Too late.” I frowned, wishing Chase had just told me instead of sneaking around behind my back.

  Life was simpler before the Internet, I decided. Before Facebook could connect ex-sweethearts. When friendships happened face-to-face. When relationships were formed on front porches and not on websites.

  If it hadn’t been for that stupid app, I would have never known where Chase was. I would have been left to wonder, been forced to be submissive to my patience.

  Instead, technology had led me here, and I’d followed like a dog looking for a bone.

  This wasn’t the way relationships were supposed to wor
k.

  Forgive me, I silently prayed.

  Holly Anna Paladin, the girl who yearned to be born in a different generation when ladies had been ladylike and men had been gentlemen. When life was slower and less complicated. I’d succumbed to everything I hated.

  “Look, she’s leaving!” Jamie nudged me.

  I watched as Peyton climbed into her truck. I held my breath, waiting for confirmation they were back together. But Chase didn’t lean in to kiss her good-bye. Instead, he shut her door and waved. He tapped the side of the truck as she backed out.

  I sank farther into the shadows as Chase started away from the truck.

  “Where’s he going?” I whispered.

  “To his Jeep. He’s in.”

  I tried to formulate what to do next. Just leaving would be the simple thing. But my curiosity had taken me hostage. I wanted answers. I needed them.

  “We don’t have time to get back to your van and follow him,” I muttered.

  “We don’t have to. We can use the app that led us here in the first place, Sherlock.”

  I smiled at Jamie’s reminder. Hers seemed much better than my idea of madly dashing after him. Maybe technology did have a few advantages. At least for the moment, I wanted to put my old-fashioned manners behind me. “Good point. What are we waiting for?”

  * * *

  Twenty-three minutes later, Jamie and I pulled to a stop in front of an apartment complex. Chase’s Jeep was there in a space between other cars. Chase must have gone inside one of the six oversized buildings.

  But I had no idea which one.

  I stared at one of the contemporary structures, which appeared well kept. Vinyl siding covered the outer walls, but the sturdy-looking balconies and neatly trimmed landscape probably came at a cost. The patches of grass around the buildings were so small they were practically accessories. There was even a pond at the center of the complex with a fountain in the middle. The only thing missing was a gated entrance.

  Did Peyton live here? I didn’t see her truck, but that didn’t mean anything.

  “There’s not much else we can do here.” Jamie sat in the driver’s seat, headlights dimmed and gaze fixed out the window. A certain melancholy had fallen over both of us.