Random Acts of Murder: A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 1 (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries)

Random Acts of Murder: A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 1 (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries) by Christy Barritt

Book: Random Acts of Murder: A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 1 (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries) by Christy Barritt Read Free Book Online
Authors: Christy Barritt
process.” I shifted. “Desiree, I know the police have talked to you. But I’m worried about the crimes in this neighborhood. More than one of my clients have been affected by these acts of violence.”
    Her eyes sparked. “The whole neighborhood’s going downhill. What’s the world coming to? Why are people so senseless?”
    “Many reasons. But drugs are one of them. They seem to turn off people’s consciences.”
    Her finger sliced through the air like a vigilant e with a sword. “Drugs. You’re right. They’re destroying people. But not my son. He didn’t mess with stuff like that.”
    I shifted again, hoping my words sounded compassionate. “Desiree, did your son hang out with people who may have done drugs?”
    “Everyone around here knows someone who does drugs. It’s a way of life here in the Hill. Why are you asking all of these questions?”
    “I’m just concerned.”
    “Why don’t you talk to your brother about it?”
    I blinked as her words set in. “My brother?”
    The woman glared at me. “I know who your brother is. Ralph Paladin. He’s running for senate.”
    I remembered the sign in her front yard. “I guess he’s not the candidate of your choice.”
    “He doesn’t care about us. But Rex Harrison? He’s going to end this drug war around here, once and for all. Mark my words.”
    “The election will be interesting for sure.” I leaned toward her, ready to change the subject. “So, Desiree, I know of this great group of people who meet once a week to talk about losing loved ones . . .”

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 15
    Four days had passed since the murder at Katrina Dawson’s house.
    Every day, I waited for the police to knock on my door and arrest me.
    Every day, I waited for a phone call from Jamie saying she was being investigated.
    Every day, I anticipated my family’s disappointment in me.
    Every day, so far, I’d been wrong.
    I hadn’t run into Chase Dexter again.
    It was eleven days until the election, and my brother was ahead by four percentage points.
    My sister’s wedding plans were coming along nicely. I’d even tried on my bridesmaid dress Thursday night and was pleased with how it looked. The fact that I’d lost about five pounds from the stress of this week alone helped.
    Life continued on.
    I’d revised my whole random-acts-of-kindness plan. I had left some groceries on the doorsteps of a couple of my clients. That was safe enough. I’d sent the pastor at my church a gift certificate so he could take his wife out to eat.
    I’d hoped this whole cleaning thing would get swept under the rug, and maybe I would actually get my wish.
    Right now , I was on my way to a conference that Helen insisted I had to attend. It was some leadership thing that she felt would be beneficial for the Caring Hands employees. I didn’t ask any questions, although I’d much rather be keeping up with my workload.
    I parked in a garage in downtown , and, of course, I was running late. I ran down the sidewalks. The day was briskly cold but sunny—but not briskly cold enough that I wasn’t wearing a cute dress that Jamie had found last week at the thrift store. I liked to take old dresses and make them my own by adding belts and jewelry. Sometimes I hemmed them or added a sweater or leggings. It worked well for my style, as well as my budget.
    I ran into the lobby, breezed past the people standing by the entrance, and ran toward the large, dark conference room. I stopped in my tracks, nearly stumbling, when I saw the head honcho boss, Helen Weatherly, standing there.
    “Holly, I thought you may not make it.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be waiting for me.” I straightened my turquoise cardigan, wishing I’d planned a little better.
    “It’s no problem. I just wanted to make sure we sat together. We just started a few minutes ago.”
    Helen was married to the city’s police chief. They’d both lost their spouses, Helen’s to cancer and Walter’s to a heart

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