Jamie laughed. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
“Besides, I kind of have a date this week.” I’d been contemplating whether or not I should share.
She remained quiet a moment, as if I’d thrown her off balance. “Kind of? Either you do or you don’t.”
“Okay, I do.” I smiled when I remembered my conversation with Drew—who wasn’t a serial killer.
“With . . . “
“Drew Williams.”
She sucked in a breath. “Is that right? Now that’s an idea that I could get used to. Please tell me more.”
I quickly replayed this evening. “Well, he invited me to Bible study tonight.”
“Okay . . .”
“And I went. And I had a good time. And I think he’s really nice.”
“Really nice is a good start. He’s also good-looking.”
I pulled into my driveway just in time to start ticking things off on my fingers. “He’s got a steady job, a nice house. He’s involved at church. He loves God. There’s really not anything about him that I shouldn’t like.”
“I’m proud of you, Holly.” Her tone changed from excited to sincere. “You haven’t been yourself for the past few months. Maybe you’re coming out of that funk finally.”
“That’s right. Maybe.” I cut my engine and listened to the rain patter on my windshield for a moment. “I’m home now, Jamie. I should go.”
“Dinner Wednesday night?”
“Dinner Wednesday night. It’s confirmed.” We usually met once a week for dinner and to catch up. My times with Jamie were some of my favorite times during the week. Every woman needed a girlfriend like Jamie in their lives—someone she could share everything with, and occasionally be a partner in crime.
“Great. I’ll see you then. Until then, sleep with your door locked tonight.”
“Very funny.”
“Girl, I’m not joking.”
Chapter Thirteen
I’d barely put my purse down—in my room, of course, because I wasn’t that trusting—when my doorbell rang.
Blake stood there with a lopsided grin on her face. She looked similar to what she did before. Same basic tight outfit. Nose ring. Hair that looked amazingly like mine.
I was doing the right thing, I told myself. Blake needed someone, and I was here. Why shouldn’t I help her? I didn’t care what Jamie said. I had no reason not to trust Blake.
But, if that was the truth, why hadn’t I informed my family yet? I told myself it was because I wanted to wait until my mom returned, so then I could tell everyone at once. But was that really it?
And what if I was putting Blake in danger by letting her stay here? After all, I was obviously someone’s target. Danger seemed to be tailing me. I’d made dangerous people mad, though I had no clue how.
That was the reason I’d told my caseworker that I couldn’t take any more foster kids for the time being. I had to get this cleared up first.
“Thank you so much for letting me come over,” Blake said as she stepped inside carrying a backpack, two suitcases, and an oversized purse. “It means so much to me.”
“No problem.” I took one of her bags. “Let me show you to your room.”
She followed me down the hallway. This place had three bedrooms. One was mine. The other two I’d designed with foster children in mine. The first had twin beds, one on each side. The other had a double bed in the center of the room. Each was decorated in soft, calming colors.
Children who’d been through trauma needed as much help calming them down as possible. Some people might think these were just paint colors, but to me, they were one more method of therapy, a way of promoting peace and calm.
“You have kids?” Blake dropped her bag onto the double bed and stared at the room.
“No, but I’m a foster mom.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you? That’s wonderful.”
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” And I had. Ever since I saw the heartache those kids went through while in my role as social worker, I’d known I was meant to do this. I thought I needed to wait until I was married, but that wasn’t true at all. The time was now for living my dreams, with or without a man by my side.
“More power to you.” Her expression turned serious. “I know I already said this, but you can’t imagine how much I appreciate this.”
“It’s really no problem. Can I get you anything? Some tea maybe?”
“If it’s okay, I’m super tired. Is it alright if I turn in for the night? I had such a long day, and I’m exhausted. I’ve got to study a little before I go to bed also. Big test tomorrow.”
That was actually fine with me. I needed some time to decompress and sort through all my thoughts. I’d even considered doing some research on Travis’s boss, to see if he could be the guy who was threatening me.
Then again, I hadn’t received any more angry texts. Maybe I could finally put all of this behind me.
“That’s no problem. I’m pretty tired myself.” I paused before leaving her room. “I have a meeting early in the morning, so I may be gone when you wake up. I’ll leave an extra key on the kitchen counter. Help yourself to any food in the house.”
“That’s perfect. I have class at nine, and I’ll be gone most of the day.”
“Have a good night.” I closed the door, suddenly uneasy.
It was nothing, I told myself. Just Jamie putting ideas in my head. Blake was harmless. I could envision her becoming like the little sister I’d never had. After all, we seemed to have a lot in common. We were possibly blood related even.
And besides, I had strangers stay in my house all the time. Granted, they were usually six-, seven-, and eight-year-olds. But there was nothing weird about this.
I was going to prove Jamie wrong.
I tossed and turned in bed, and I wasn’t sure why.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I’d locked my bedroom door, and then gotten up to unlock it, chiding myself about being paranoid, then I’d locked it again just to be on the safe side. And then I’d unlocked it.
It was a lesson in futility.
I’d finally left it unlocked, but now I wasn’t sleeping well.
Then I heard a creak.
My entire body tensed.
I was hearing things. That had to be it. Or the house was settling. I hadn’t lived here for long enough to learn all the sounds. Or Blake had gotten up to go to the bathroom.
That was probably it. Of course.
I nearly laughed at myself for being so suspicious.
Despite that realization, another creak made my blood go ice cold.
That did it. I needed to check out that sound. And lock the bedroom door once and for all.
I started to push myself up and face the dark room, to lose the comfort of the fluffy blanket that offered a strange security. Before I’d even raised my head, a hand pressed against my mouth. A figure in black pounced on top of me. My muscles went ramrod straight.
“I’m sorry he had to drag you into this,” a gruff voice said. “Holly Paladin.”
What in the world was he talking about? What was I missing? I needed to fight, to try and get away. Instead, I froze, my thoughts incoherent.
“I’m going to move my hand, but if you scream or alert anyone that I’m here, I’ll kill you.” The sharp edge of his voice left no room for doubt.
My heart pounded in my ears. I stared at him. He wore a ski mask. Had colorless eyes. The rest of his body was covered, blending in with the night and offering no clues to his identity.
“Do you understand?” he repeated, pressing his hand harder over my mouth.
I nodded, my fluffy pillow surrounding my head. Encasing it. Suffocating me.
Slowly, the intruder released his gloved hand from my lips. “Now, let’s make this easy before I kill you. Where is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice came out at a high-pitched squeak, nearly indecipherable, even to my own ears.
>
He growled and leered closer. “Don’t play stupid. Tell me where the information is. I know he slipped it to you.”
My mind raced as pieces clicked together. “What information? Who slipped it to me?”
“Stop playing stupid. I’m losing my patience with you. If the police had the info, I’d be in jail right now.”
Another jolt of fear seized me. “I found a key and gave it to the police. I didn’t know where it came from. Is that the information?”
The man muttered something not nice beneath his breath. Then he raised a syringe and brought it to my throat, devilishly aiming the sharp metallic point at my skin. I held my breath, afraid to breathe. Breathing was moving. Moving even one-eighth of an inch could send the needle into my neck.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
The blood drained from my head so quickly that I feared I might pass out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He dragged the tip of the syringe against my neck as if picturing the sadistic act of watching me die. “I’d hate to inject this too slowly—so slowly that you die a long, prolonged death. I made it easy on Travis. One injection, and he was dead a couple minutes later.”
I held my breath and waited, each second crawling by as I waited to see what the man would do next.
“I guess my work here is done,” he whispered. “Sorry that you’re collateral damage.”
He raised the syringe but, as he did, a creak sounded in the hallway.
The man stiffened.
“You’re not alone?” he whispered.
I shook my head, at once thankful that Blake was here. But I hoped she didn’t walk in my room right now and get herself in trouble.
As quickly as the man appeared, he jumped away and ran toward the window.
“This isn’t over,” he mumbled.
And then he opened the window, shoved out the screen, and he was gone.
I froze, unable to move. My heart still raced out of control and my head spun.
But I was wasting time. These moments after a crime were vital.
With trembling limbs, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and called Chase. He promised to be right over.
Then I ran into the hallway. Blake stood there with a dazed expression. I recognized it from one of my foster kids.
She was sleepwalking.
Thankfully, she allowed me to lead her back into her room and into bed. She had no idea any of this had happened. Her presence, however, may have saved my life.
That could have been ugly. I praised God the man had left before things turned deadly.
But what in the world had that man been talking about? What information?
I needed to find out before my ignorance got me killed.
Chapter Fourteen
“Chase.” The word escaped with a rasp when I saw him standing on the porch.
He stepped toward me, and I had to resist the urge to fall into his arms. I could tell that he had to resist the urge to pull me into an embrace. Instead, an invisible rock separated us, mocking and cruel.
Two uniformed officers rushed in behind him. I skirted to the side to let them do their job, though I had a feeling they wouldn’t find any evidence.
“Are you okay?” Chase scooted closer, his voice low and intimate, like he was hugging me even though we weren’t touching.
I nodded and rubbed my neck, needing to do something with my hands before I reached for him. Breakup etiquette rule 19: definitely don’t touch. I didn’t know if that was really a rule or not, but it sounded right.
“I am. Thankfully.”
Just then, Chase’s gaze traveled behind me, and his eyes narrowed. I turned and saw Blake standing there. Her hair was matted with bedhead. She wore some flannel pajama bottoms with an oversized knit top, and lines from her pillow were still etched into her cheek.
“Holly?” Chase’s gaze darted down to me, questions haunting their depths.
I knew exactly what he was thinking: that I’d taken in a stray. He knew me a little too well. And I knew him a little too well, because I knew he wouldn’t approve. Not by a long shot.
“This is Blake. It’s a long story, but she’s staying with me for a while. Blake, this is Chase. He’s . . .” What did I say? My ex? No, I couldn’t go there. “He’s a detective and a friend.”
Blake fluttered her hand in the air, and Chase offered a terse nod before taking my arm. He pulled me to the corner of my living room, away from anyone else who could hear what he had to say.
“Who is that girl, Holly?” His voice had an edge to it.
I crossed my arms, bracing myself for this conversation. “She might be a cousin.”
A knot formed between his eyes. “What does that mean? Might be a cousin?”
“Like I said, it’s a long story.” And I really didn’t want to get into it right now. I’d already had one doozy of a night, and this conversation was only upping my stress level into the stratosphere.
He shifted and ran a hand over his face in what was clearly exasperation personified. “What do you know about her?”
I raised my chin. “Enough.”
“I doubt that. How do you know she doesn’t have anything to do with this?”
“That’s ridiculous.” I lowered my voice once I realized it was rising. But what Chase was suggesting was ludicrous. Why would Blake help someone threaten me? Someone could do that on their own.
Chase leaned closer. “There’s no sign of forced entry.”
“You think she let someone in?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“I repeat: that’s ridiculous.” I refused to believe his theory. I wouldn’t even entertain it. Not right now, at least.
“Maybe you need to rethink your choice.”
“I can make my own choices.” I raised my chin even higher, so tired of people telling me what to do. Why did people feel the need to take care of me? Did I give off a desperate vibe or something? Whatever it was, it needed to change. Pronto.
“Of course you can.” Chase’s jaw flexed. “I just hope those choices don’t get you killed.”
I was moving beyond testiness at this conversation and headed straight toward being offended. I lowered my voice as I barked out, “You and Jamie both must think I’m incapable of using wisdom or common sense.”
His jaw flexed. “I didn’t say that. I just know you have a good heart that other people could take advantage of. Not everyone has pure intentions like you do.”
“I appreciate the heads up, but I’ll be fine.”
He gave me one last smoldering stare before taking another step back. “Let me go check out things and touch base with the officers.”
“Chase,” I called, remembering the key and the subsequent threats that may or may not be related to them. I’d had something on my mind before the conversation took this turn.
He paused. “Yes?”
“Did you find out anything about that key that was in my pocket?”
His gaze darkened. “No, we still don’t know much about it. It’s a house key, best we can tell. We don’t know which house, and, frankly, I’m not sure we’ll ever know.”
But a house key just didn’t make sense to me. “Why would someone go through all of this trouble for a house key? Couldn’t they just pick the lock? Kick the door down?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
Apparently, that’s what I needed to figure out also. I knew there was no way to get that key back from Chase. I’d be foolish to try. That meant I needed to find answers before the killer could find me again.
“There’s one other thing you should know,” Chase said. “We’ve arrested someone for Travis’s murder.”
I sucked in a quick breath. “Who?”
“Ronald Dillow.”
“I met him earlier when I was talking to the Hookers.”
Chase’s jaw dropped. “Why were you talking to prostitutes?”
“Not prostitutes. Travis’s family,�
�� I explained. “Anyway, did he confess?”
Chase shook his head. “But he’s got motive. He was angry with Travis for some of his work habits, and he actually said that Travis was going to end up being one of his clients—a dead body that needed to be transported.”
“So, what you’re saying is that the person you think murdered Travis is behind bars, so he’s not the same person who broke in tonight?” Was I understanding this correctly?
“That’s how it appears.”
“But this guy said he killed Travis. He had a syringe.”
“This definitely makes us look at the case in a new light.”
Were there two bad guys here? Were they working together?
Because based on what I understood after this evening, the real killer was still out there.
Despite everything that had happened, I decided to keep my plans for the next morning. Breakfast with my brother and sister might just be the distraction I needed. Otherwise, last night’s events might consume my thoughts, and I didn’t want that to happen.
Blake had confessed last night that she could have unlocked the door while sleepwalking and that she’d been known to do so in the past. She’d apologized a million times, and I had no good reason not to believe her. However, my confidence in my choice to let her stay with me was waning.
The whole situation surrounding Travis also had me on edge. Every time I got a text, I felt anxiety trying to swallow me. When would the man strike again? What would he do next time? How was I going to find answers?
Since I couldn’t sleep after all the excitement last night, I’d spent my time making coffee cake, cranberry muffins, and a cream cheese danish. Baking therapy. That’s what I called it. When I’d finished those, I’d made some chocolate chip cookies. I left some at the house for Blake, but brought most of what I made with me for the breakfast.
I arrived early to my mom’s house—where we always met—so I could make coffee. That was my role, it seemed. I liked being the provider of tasty treats that nurtured the stomach and the soul. That might seem insignificant or frivolous to some people, but I loved it.
Random Acts of Fraud (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 5) Page 10