Random Acts of Murder: A Holly Anna Paladin Mystery, Book 1 (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries) Read Online Free Page B

still. She’s always running around doing something. She’s still a real estate agent and does some interior decorating.”
    “All in this area?”
    “Yep. We’re all here.”
    “ And you’re living at home still . . . why?”
    I kept my head high and my shoulders back. “Social work really is a labor of love. The monetary rewards aren’t that great. I’m trying to save some money, have a little more financial freedom, and keep my mom company in the process.”
    “That’s it.” He jammed a finger into the air, stealing another glance my way. “There you go. That’s the real reason. You’re there for your mom.”
    “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “That’s very sweet, Holly.”
    I kept my chin raised high. He thought he was so smart. I guessed that he was, because he’d nailed it even though he hadn’t seen me in years. “And you?”
    “I live over in Clifton.”
    Clifton was the neighborhood near the University of Cincinnati, where there would be plenty of parties and young college girls. That fit my opinion of Chase perfectly.
    “I got a great deal on this fixer-upper there. My problem is I just haven’t had time to fix anything up.”
    So maybe parties and girls weren’t the only reason he’d moved there. Still.
    I sucked in a breath, trying to think of the proper way to respond. “Demanding job, huh?”
    “I’ve been working some extra gigs to earn some more money. You know, security at ball games or special events. Such is life.”
    Such is life. Could be my motto lately.
    I pointed to my street. “Right there.”
    He pulled to a stop in front of a Tudor-style home. It was on the outskirts of the neighborhood, in a section where the city’s rich had once lived. Each house on my street had an expansive yard—expansive for Price Hill, at least—and a unique design. The surrounding streets were run down and crime ridden, but these houses never failed to make people pause and relive the area’s glory days.
    Chase stared up at the house now. “That place is a beauty. It really is. Your parents did a great job fixing it up.”
    A grin wanted to emerge, but I fought it. “Thanks.”
    The next thing I knew, he was turning off the car and running around to my door to open it for me. He stood there in the driveway, offering a hand, and appearing like the perfect gentleman. And, for some reason, I found myself reaching for his hand and letting him help me out.
    I wasn’t sure who was more dazed—Chase or me.
    I immediately let go of his hand.
    “You didn’t really have to get out,” I muttered.
    “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t mind. I need to make sure you get safely inside, with your head injury and all.”
    “It’s just a little cut on my forehead. I’m fine.” My pulsating headache could be knocked out with a couple of Tylenols.
    But Chase’s hand was on my elbow , and he swept me past the lush green grass that my mom paid someone to maintain, past the Better Homes and Gardens flowerbeds, and toward the front door. If luck had been on my side, there would have been no cars in the driveway, signaling that no one was home. But luck was hardly ever on my side, especially not today.
    Before we even reached the door, it flew open and my mom stood there. She was tiny and blonde and wore expensive business suits and handed out her business card with all the ease of a little kid spreading the flu. She was what most people would consider a “mover and a shaker.”
    She grinned and clapped her hands. “If it isn’t Chase Dexter! How are you?”
    I was convinced that my mother had been southern in a previous life. She even made sweet tea with the best of them. But no, she was a Cincinnati original, born and raised here and proud of it. She’d fought to preserve historic houses, and worked on the committee to organize “Price Hill Pride Days,” and served on uncountable boards and clubs. Every time I turned around, she was doing a fund-raiser for some cause. It was a