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

by Christy Barritt

  That seemed to calm him. His shoulders softened a moment before he looked behind him at a man in the distance. “Harry, can I take five?”

  After the man raised his chin in a nod, Calvin led Jamie and me outside, away from anyone who might hear. We stood on a sidewalk brightly lit with sunlight. Colorful air dancers swayed by the street, presenting an overly cheerful atmosphere considering our conversation.

  “What do you want to know?” Calvin started. The scar across his cheek looked old and gave him an air of toughness, like he’d lived a rough life, as did the choppy cadence of his words.

  “Any idea who might have wanted to kill your friend?” I asked.

  He raised his chin in a half nod, half jerk. “I have a few theories. Aidan was a good guy. But he got mixed up in a few things he should have stayed away from.”

  “Like what?” I prodded.

  “Gambling. Nothing big time. But big enough that he owed some people some money.”

  Was this all about a gambling ring? Had Chase—in just the few days he’d been back here in Louisville—gotten himself mixed up in some kind of dangerous underworld based out of Wyndmyer? Was that the reason these men were chasing us down now?

  Maybe Chase owed them money and everything was somehow connected with that.

  I shifted on the sidewalk, trying to process what Calvin was saying. “So you think these men found Aidan and gunned him down because he hadn’t paid his debts?”

  He didn’t hesitate this time. “That’s exactly what I think.”

  “Do you know who these men are?” Jamie asked.

  “I think they might have worked at the stables where Aidan worked. But that’s all I know.”

  “Golden Equestrian, right?” I said.

  “That’s right. There’s another arrogant jerk. Alexander Cartwright. He thinks he owns the thoroughbred business in the area. Still denies he juiced his horses. Just like he denies he was involved in that other murder a few years ago.”

  My blood went cold. “Murder?”

  He nodded. “Another stable boy. Forget his name. Anyway, Cartwright was never implicated in public, but there was plenty of talk around the stables. People lived in fear of the man.”

  Interesting. We were finally getting somewhere.

  We had a horse track, a horse owner, and a stable boy with a gambling problem.

  How did all those pieces fit together?

  I needed to figure it out. My life depended on it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jamie and I grabbed lunch at a sit-down chain restaurant. Jamie had ordered steak and a double order of steamed broccoli. I splurged on chicken scampi. Pasta with rich, creamy sauce and plenty of cheese? Yes, I was stress eating.

  That was never a good sign.

  “What now?” Jamie asked, taking a bite of her broccoli before adding more salt to her pile of veggies.

  Heaviness settled across my shoulders—across my heart—as I twirled some angel hair pasta around my fork. The more I learned, the more disturbing all of this became. “We have to go back to the racetrack tonight.”

  Jamie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  I nodded. “I know each time I go I increase the likelihood I’ll run into Chase. But the answer somehow goes back to that place. I’m here in Louisville. I can’t just sit around and not do everything within my power to find the truth. I’m going to have to go back to work soon. You too. We can’t stay here forever. Our lives are in Cincinnati. However, the pressure of having time constraints is making me feel like I’m going to crack.”

  “How did Ralph take the news that you were taking a few days off?”

  I shrugged, still swirling my pasta. The creamy sauce was beginning to look cold and lumpy. “He couldn’t say anything because I had the time coming. But he suspects something.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That you and I were going to help out a friend in Louisville. I said the details were private, and that stopped him from asking too many questions. For now, at least. He did ask me to text him the address of where I’m staying.”

  “Really?”

  I shrugged. “He’s the protective older brother. What can I say? Besides, it wasn’t a bad idea, just in case I don’t come home and the police need to know where to start looking.”

  “True that.”

  “What did you tell your parents?”

  “I said I was following a story lead in Louisville. But I actually turned in a couple of articles early, so I’m good. How was I to know just how fortunate that would be when I worked ahead?”

  “Fortunate.”

  Jamie ate the last bite of her meal. “Okay, let’s see what time the race starts tonight.”

  I pulled it up on my phone. “At five.”

  “I have my scarf to pull my hair back. You?”

  I glanced down at my gray A-line dress. I wore a jean jacket and red Converse shoes with it. “I’ll pull my hair into a bun and wear my sunglasses. It will have to be fine.”

  After we finished eating, we headed toward the track. I didn’t see any vans following us as we traveled. That was a good thing. But I was still nervous as we pulled into the parking lot, locked up the car, and walked to the entrance. I tugged my hat lower, feeling uncomfortable.

  A crowd had already gathered. Racing was obviously a big business, a fact that I found incredibly sad. If people would put their money toward feeding the poor instead of gambling, it could really make an impact on society. But, of course, I had frivolous expenses I could sacrifice also. Not gambling, but getting manicures or lattes.

  I sighed. The answers sometimes seemed simple, when they were in fact quite complex.

  “One time we were in a gas station,” Jamie said beside me as we walked.

  I had no idea where she was going with this. “Okay . . .”

  “You told me that if the man of your dreams was there but he was buying a lottery ticket, you couldn’t date him.”

  “That sounds a little harsh, doesn’t it?” I shrugged. “But I still stand behind that sentiment just because I feel like there are better ways to spend money. I don’t want to link my bank account with someone who gambles—even if it’s just the lottery or a horse race.”

  “And if you see Chase gambling? How are you going to feel then?”

  My heart thudded in my chest. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

  My eyes searched the crowd as soon as we entered the building. There were too many people here. It would be almost impossible for me to spot Chase.

  Except I did.

  It seemed like a near miracle. But there he was. At one of the machines where he could make a wager.

  I must have let out a gasp, because Jamie followed my gaze. Her hand went to my arm, as if she knew I was going into shock.

  In the back of my mind, I’d tried to believe the best. I’d held out a ray of hope that all of this was a misunderstanding. But looking at Chase now, I couldn’t deny what was happening.

  As Chase turned to leave, Jamie and I quickly stepped behind a fat cement column and out of sight. After he walked past, I peered around the edge in time to see Peyton meet him near the seats. He said something quietly to her.

  I couldn’t take my eyes away. It was like a car crash: you didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

  Chase, almost as if in slow motion, leaned toward Peyton.

  I held my breath.

  He pulled her into his arms. Her arms went around his neck.

  They stepped closer, lingering in each other’s embrace as if relishing it. Enjoying it.

  Tears rushed to my eyes.

  My worst fears were confirmed. They were back together. Friends didn’t linger in embraces like that. My respect for Chase plummeted.

  “Holly . . .” Jamie squeezed my arm.

  I shook my head, trying to communicate to her that there were no words. I didn’t want her to offer me platitudes. I knew what I was seeing, and I had to deal with it.

/>   My heart ached, panged inside my chest. The Jaws of Life wouldn’t even be able to save it from the turmoil permanently trapped there. My rose-colored glasses were off, though in reality they’d been sliding farther down my nose for a long time.

  Finally, they stepped back, but Chase kept a hand around Peyton’s shoulders as the two of them went to find their seats.

  “Holly . . .” Jamie repeated.

  I raised my hand again, trying to stop her. There was nothing she could say to make me feel better. Nothing.

  “No, Holly. Really.” She tugged my arm, her voice changing from compassionate to spooked. “Look.”

  I followed her gaze and saw two men walking toward us. They wore black T-shirts and jeans, as well as black stocking caps that were pulled down low. Their steps were brisk, urgent.

  My gut told me these guys weren’t part of security. No, these were the men from the van, who’d been trying to track Jamie and me down. They were here now.

  Jamie and I hurried away from them, resisting the urge to run because it would only draw attention to us. We had to somehow figure out how to get away from these guys.

  I stole a glance over my shoulder. The men were still behind us. They were gaining speed with each step.

  Urgency pressed on me. I reached for Jamie’s arm as my gaze scanned my surroundings, looking for an escape route.

  Who were these guys? Why were they fixated on Jamie and me?

  It had been one thing when their actions seemed covert. But they were becoming bold. They were pursuing us in public now.

  We dodged in and out of the crowd, between vendors and families and groups of businessmen.

  A bathroom was ahead. But I didn’t want to be cornered.

  Finally, my gaze stopped at a group of concession workers. They were standing by a door that led to an “Employees Only” area. Someone, a manager, based on his bossy tone, was speaking to them.

  They were trainees, I realized. They all appeared green and a touch nervous. They had too many questions to be seasoned employees.

  This could be our chance. Our only chance.

  Just as I spotted the workers, I sucked in a quick breath.

  Chase.

  He walked our way, purpose in his steely gaze as he stared ahead. His head didn’t turn our way.

  Not yet.

  But there was a good chance he could.

  I glanced behind me. The men behind us were only steps away.

  My nerves ratcheted up to near-record levels.

  I grabbed Jamie and pulled her into the mix of employees flooding through the “Employees Only” doorway. No one seemed to notice us—not right away, at least. As soon as I was inside, I slammed the door and leaned against it, twisting the lock in place.

  I closed my eyes, held my breath, waited.

  The handle turned. It jiggled.

  Someone was trying to get in.

  Those men were trying to get in.

  But the door didn’t budge.

  I released my breath. We’d done it. We’d gotten away from them. At least for a moment.

  As my eyes wandered from Jamie, I saw the group of workers. Staring at us with curiosity in their gazes.

  I offered a feeble smile. “It looks like we’ve got some ’splaining to do.”

  * * *

  A security guard had led Jamie and me to the administrative offices while all the new trainees watched with wide eyes and maybe even a few snickers. The good news was that we hadn’t seen the men who were chasing us, and this had distracted me from the emotional fiasco of seeing Chase and Peyton together.

  We were in an administrative office located on the perimeter of the building. The room was decorated in burgundy and mahogany and featured gold-framed pictures of racehorses all around the room. The strange mixture of leather and Lysol filled my nostrils.

  The man who sat across from us at an oversized desk was none other than Larry Mullins. We were informed he was the assistant manager here at the track.

  Being in his office seemed like both a great turn of luck and a great act of misfortune. I didn’t want to get in trouble with the law, but maybe I could make lemonade out of lemons and get some answers.

  I swallowed, not used to getting in trouble. The only time I’d ever gotten sent to the principal’s office was when I interjected myself between the school bully, Hank Starns, and his prey—a quiet, nerdy boy named Melvin. Melvin was about to get a wedgie, and a group of Hank’s friends had gathered around to watch the show. I’d put myself between Melvin and Hank and, in a grim turn of events, had ended up with a day’s suspension after I’d shoved Hank away.

  “Why did the two of you sneak into an ‘Employees Only’ area?” Larry asked.

  “We got lost,” I tried to explain.

  “Lost? Haven’t heard that one before.”

  “We were trying to find an exit, and we saw a mass exodus,” Jamie explained.

  “A mass exodus?”

  “The Red Sea practically parted and showed us the way,” Jamie said.

  Larry nodded slowly, but my underlying sense indicated the man thought we were loony. “I see. You should understand that we have tight security here at the tracks.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “We take potential threats seriously, and we just don’t want trouble.”

  “Neither do we,” Jamie said. “In fact, if you let us go, we’ll be on our way.”

  Except I wasn’t ready to leave yet. This might be my only chance to speak with Larry, and I could feel the conversation starting to wrap up.

  “Aren’t you friends with Chase Dexter?” I blurted. “I feel like I’ve seen you with him before.”

  Larry’s eyes narrowed, and his muscles visibly tightened. “Why would you ask that?”

  “I thought I saw you with him the other day. I had a big crush on him back in the day.” I flashed a big, dopey smile. “You know, when he played football.”

  “Men in tights,” Jamie added. “We love them.”

  Larry released a seething breath and shook his head. “No, I don’t know him.”

  I wasn’t ready to drop this. “That wasn’t you and that brunette with him? What’s her name again?”

  “Peyton Andrews?” His words sounded dull, annoyed.

  “Yes!” I threw my hands in the air. “That’s her. I thought I saw you all together.”

  He narrowed his eyes even more, until they were almost slits. “Yes, she’s my boss.”

  I leaned closer. “He was married to her at one time, right? Did they get back together?”

  His jaw flexed. “I don’t see where this is any of your business.”

  “Is it true that Wyndmyer is having trouble?” Jamie asked. “That it might shut down?”

  “Where did you hear that?” His voice rose in pitch. Our welcome was outlived. But we’d also struck a nerve.

  “What about Alexander Cartwright? Do you know him?” Jamie continued. If she had a microphone in her hand, she could be a one-woman media section at a press conference.

  His fists hit the desk, and he pushed himself to a standing position. “I don’t know who you think you are—”

  “Okay, I’m going to be honest,” Jamie interjected. “I’m a reporter, and there are several things I’ve found very interesting about Wyndmyer.”

  “A reporter who accidentally wandered behind the scenes?” His cheeks reddened. “You need to leave.”

  “Can you just answer this—are the police investigating Alexander?” I threw in, desperate for answers.

  “The police? What? You’re out of line.” His voice trembled now, and veins protruded at his temples.

  “What are you hiding?” Jamie continued.

  “That’s it! I’m calling security.” He picked up the phone.

  Acting on impulse, I pressed down the receiver in front of me. “You don’t have to do anything if you answer our questions. We can keep all this between us. I know you don’t want any dirt to be released on this place. On you a
nd how you’re doing your job. We’ve heard about the scandals, and this place doesn’t need any more bad PR.”

  His face reddened even more as he stared at me. I swallowed hard. I hadn’t meant to talk tough. I wasn’t even sure where my nerve had come from. But what I’d said was already out there, and now we were all having a stare down, waiting to see who would relent. Who would win.

  Finally, Larry put the phone back on its cradle. “Look, I don’t owe you an explanation. Let me make that clear. But I don’t want you making up stories either. The only involvement we currently have with Cartwright, other than racing, is hosting an event for a charity he’s started for retired racehorses. It will be good PR for the track. It’s not a secret that we’ve been hurting financially for a while now.”

  “Why is that a secret?” I asked. “I heard you tell someone that Alexander was out of town and now was the time.”

  His frown deepened. “You two are good. Yes, I did say that. Alexander was out of town for the day, and we’re trying to arrange for Baldwin Irving to be here for the charity event. We’re arranging with Alexander’s staff for Baldwin’s appearance to be a surprise.”

  “Baldwin Irving?” I questioned.

  “He’s a horse-racing legend. Won the Triple Crown.”

  Realization washed over me. That was why they’d mentioned Alexander was out of town.

  “You’re not trying to help Peyton get away with having an affair?” Jamie asked.

  “What? No. I help her with day-to-day operations here. Now we’re done. If I were you two, I wouldn’t show your faces around here again. Next time I won’t be nearly as polite.”

  With that said, we left. The air remained emotionally charged as we walked toward the car. We stopped by my mom’s car in the parking lot—again, probably a terrible idea, given our track record in parking lots as of late.

  “Larry may not have anything to do with this,” I muttered. “I think he’s simply Peyton’s employee.”

  “I agree. But why did Chase say his name in the parking lot at the apartment complex the night we found Aidan Jennings’s body?”

  “Maybe Larry was discouraging Chase and Peyton from hanging out.” I shrugged. “After all, that could be bad PR for the track. He seemed pretty intent on keeping Wyndmyer’s reputation clean.”