Sucker Punch (A Holly Hands Cozy Mystery—Book #2)

By Mia Gold

SUCKER PUNCH is book #2 in the Holly Hands Cozy Mystery series, which begins with KNOCKOUT (Book #1). Fans of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum and Jana DeLeon's Miss Fortune will find a new character to love in Holly Hands!

Holly Hands. 29. Single mom. Disgraced, former boxing pro. Repo woman.

Things seem like they may be looking up for Holly—until she is called into for her biggest job yet: to repo a mega-yacht.

It seems like an absurd task, made more absurd by the mega party she encounters on board. Yet Holly is up for anything.

But that doesn’t include dealing with a dead body. Or for having to solve yet another crime to keep herself out of jail.

Luckily, Holly has Lucky by her side—a neglected pit bull she found on the wrong side of a job, who refuses to leave her side—and who, like her, has nowhere to go but up. Together, maybe they can crawl their way out of the urban hell of their bad slice of Baltimore, where coming home at night is even more dangerous than going to work. Maybe Holly can manage to get her young daughter the medical treatment she desperately needs, and manage to get her out of her dangerous public school and into the private school of her dreams. Just maybe, she can fall in love with that private school Dad from the other side of town and start a whole new life.

Or maybe not.

Life has never been easy for Holly. And if the past few days are any indication, it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

SUCKER PUNCH (A HOLLY HANDS COZY MYSTERY) is book #2 in a riveting new cozy mystery series, a page-turning thriller that grabs you from page one and does not let go. Get ready to find yourself reading all night, bleary-eyed, and falling madly in love with a new character who will fight her way into your heart.

Book #3 in the series (BELOW THE BELT) is now also available.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Gold
• Release date: Feb 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781094372174

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SUCKER PUNCH

(A Holly Hands Cozy Mystery—Book Two)

MIA GOLD

Mia Gold

Debut author Mia Gold is author of the HOLLY HANDS COZY MYSTERY, comprising three books (and counting); and of the RUBY STEELE COZY MYSTERY series, comprising three books (and counting).

Mia would love to hear from you, so please visit www.miagoldauthor.com to receive free ebooks, hear the latest news, and stay in touch.

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Copyright © 2021 by Mia Gold. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Svet_Lana, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY MIA GOLD

HOLLY HANDS COZY MYSTERY

KNOCKOUT (Book #1)

SUCKER PUNCH (Book #2)

BELOW THE BELT (Book #3)

RUBY STEELE COZY MYSTERY

ON THE ROCKS (Book #1)

EXTRA DIRTY (Book #2)

FULL BODIED (Book #3)

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Holly’s foot tapped a tattoo into the glistening white faux tiles. Maybe, if she tapped hard enough, she’d manage to dig an escape tunnel out of this room. The stuff of nightmares surrounded her in all of its pure cotton cardigan and high-heeled glory.

Elementary school parents. More threatening than any back alley boxing opponent.

At least, in those cases, Holly knew where to throw a punch. Now, surrounded by sideways looks and condescending leers, she wasn’t even allowed to hit back. She heard one of the mothers, who had made a big show of rummaging around her purse with her Ferrari keychain dangling over one fake red-painted nail, mutter to a friend two seats back. That one… yes, the one with the lumpy ears…

Holly had pretended like she hadn’t heard, sliding lower in her seat.

She’s the fighter? a second voice had responded, a man this time. Holly could feel the double stare of Mr. and Mrs. Mind Your Own Business.

Can’t you tell? the woman had snickered, her voice low enough to feign a whisper, but loud enough to suggest she didn’t much care if she was overheard or not. Almost as if she didn’t think Holly could hear her, like some mutt on the side of the street—spectacle more than person.

Holly crossed her arms over her frayed blue sweater, wishing now she’d worn something with a smaller hole in the sleeve or a big middle finger stenciled in red on the back. Her eyes fixed determinedly on the woman in the front of the music room of Tate Forest Elementary, one of the most expensive private schools in the area, and her daughter’s new home.

New student orientation day. On one hand, Holly had never felt more proud in her life. Especially when she’d first shown up and seen the beaming smile on her daughter’s face. Olivia had taken to Tate Forest like a squid to the ocean. Now, though, surrounded by the other parents, the long looks and uncomfortable setting were attempting to disguise the sheer joy of what they’d achieved. Olivia with her courage, Holly with her determination. Her daughter was now enrolled. No more bruised cheeks after school. No more fights in the lunchroom. No more notes from the principal, warning parents about prowlers outside.

Despite Holly’s own discomfort, she paused a moment, thinking of Olivia—after all, this was about her. A small smile replaced her nervous nibbling, at least for the moment.

The teacher in front was prattling on about schedules and electives and parent-teacher conference dates. All of it sounded about as interesting as bland oatmeal in a cardboard bowl.

The blue plastic chairs had been brought in from the cafeteria to replace the tiny, miniature-human-sized seats normally ornamenting the room and now stacked next to a row of xylophones.

 Any questions? said the lady at the front of the room. She had given her name earlier, but Holly had only been half paying attention. Holly glanced over her shoulder at the closed music room door. Through the glass, she glimpsed the start to a long hall covered with construction paper artwork. The new students, including Olivia, had been taken off to a different room, to be put through their own orientation, with more Play-Doh, stickers, and rhyme schemes to remember schedules.

Holly had never expected to be jealous of Play-Doh before, but right now, all she wanted was to see her daughter again, and get out of this claustrophobic shrine to the musical arts. Somehow, the way Olivia beamed when chatting with her new friends made all of the growing pains worth it.

Holly heard one of the parents, two rows over, begin to ask a question about the school’s policy on sick days. She recognized the speaker as Mrs. Helicopter Parent, from her first tour of the school.

Holly felt a hand nudge her arm, and she glanced over at the man sitting next to her.

Jordan Healy was smiling in that assured, comfortable way of his. Jordan, who worked in corporate finance, fit in well with this crowd. But, to Holly’s continual shock, he also displayed a constant interest in her. He wore a clean sweater over a collared shirt, and his dark, handsome features were fixed in an inquisitive smile. Quietly, beneath his breath, he murmured, Are you all right?

She wasn’t sure why, but Holly’s first instinct was to frown. Of course.

Jordan glanced at her foot, which was still hopping like a rabbit who’d spotted a wolf.

She frowned again. Get me out of here, she murmured.

Jordan grinned now, flashing his perfectly maintained teeth, thanks, no doubt, to the magic of dental insurance and whitening strips.

Everyone around her was a gentler crowd than the people she was used to. Around the room, Holly had already spotted a couple of well-hidden surgical scars from hair transplants, women with chests just a little bit too perfectly proportioned. Not to mention the contents of the school parking lot; the perfect testament to the income bracket contained within the building itself.

Neither of her brothers would have ever been caught dead using whitening strips, spray tans, or the like. Then again, her brothers often felt like showers and toothpaste were optional as well. Still, Holly felt out of her element.

She reflexively rubbed at her lumpy ear. At least Jordan seemed to find her attractive.

We still good for tonight? Holly said, if only to have something else to focus on than the parents around her.

Jordan nodded, his grin slipping a bit to be replaced by a nervous smile. Yeah, is that still good with you?

Definitely. Just checking.

Jordan gave a soft little sigh of relief. The only thing more white collar than his shirt was his job—Jordan worked in finance. When he had first introduced himself, he’d jokingly claimed he was a scholar rather than a fighter. In her eyes, Holly didn’t much care which one he was. He was nice, considerate, and made her feel like she mattered. These things, more than his job, his looks, or even his dazzling smile, had encouraged her to agree to the date tonight.

Her stomach twisted again. This time, at the prospect of visiting a restaurant she’d never been to. Rufino’s, an upscale restaurant in an even more upscale part of town.

You look a little pale, said Jordan.

What time is the reservation again?

Tonight?

At the restaurant.

Seven. I can make it earlier if you want, I just thought—

Seven’s fine. Perfect.

By now, a couple of the other parents nearest them were glancing over and frowning. One of the women, with a very thick perm, frowned at Holly, but then looked at Jordan and smiled, a hand darting up and tugging at one of her curls.

Jordan rebounded the smile and give an apologetic dip of his head, before turning his attention to the teacher at the front of the room. Holly, for her part, glared at Curly-head, and crossed her arms even tighter now, looking at the clock over the whiteboard and wondering when she’d finally be set free to see her daughter again.

All right, the teacher was saying, if there are no more questions, I think that concludes it for today. Thank you so much for coming to orientation. Tate Forest Elementary is excited to have you with us this year. And remember, if you have any questions or concerns, we’re always available to chat on either the number provided in the brochure, the email listed on our website, or during school hours with an appointment.

A quiet hubbub broke out as everyone began to shuffle, rising from their seats and chatting with familiar faces. Holly also began to rise and glanced back over at Jordan.

How’s Ella? she said over the general hubbub.

She’s doing fine. A little bit nervous about starting here, but excited. Olivia?

Holly nodded. Excited too. Some of the teachers already seem to like her. When she first showed up, she got a high five from the secretary.

Jordan grinned. I believe it. Your girl is a sweetheart. Everyone’s going to like her.

Holly shifted nervously next to her table and chewed on her bottom lip. "As long as they like her, I don’t mind."

What does that mean?

Holly turned her right arm, so the hole in her sleeve was hidden against her hip. Nothing. Anyway, I’ve gotta go drop Livie back at home and get ready. I’ll see you at seven.

Perfect—can’t wait.

Holly hesitated, scratching at her chin. She shifted onto her right foot, pressing down against the tile she’d been tapping. Umm… What—what do people wear to a place like Rufino’s?

The moment she’d said it, she wished she hadn’t. Her cheeks heated all of a sudden, and she inwardly kicked herself. Now Jordan probably thought she was an uncultured weirdo.

But instead of looking at her like some awkward charity case, Jordan just nodded seriously, as if this were an important question. He frowned in thought. Hmm. Maybe I should’ve thought of that. I was just going to wear a sweater and slacks. He scratched ruefully at the back of his head. To be honest with you, it’s been a few years since I’ve been there.

Holly felt a sudden flush of relief. Really?

Yeah. He winked, then dropped his voice to a whisper. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m trying to impress the girl I’m going with.

Holly hid a smile. Oh? Do you think it’s working?

Jordan swallowed. Er, I dunno… What do you think?

Holly frowned in mock consideration. We’ll see. Are you planning on tipping generously?

He gave a little crossing motion over his heart. At least twenty-one percent.

Wow. You’re a hero.

Jordan grinned again, but then was distracted by the woman with the perm tugging at his elbow.

Excuse me, Mr. Healy, remember me?

Jordan looked politely over, frowning in recollection.

The milling parents around the room began to move one half step at a time toward the now opened door. Holly heard the sound of children’s voices down the long hall, and judging by the laughter and excited chatter, the kids had endured a far more enjoyable orientation than Holly.

Holly shot Ms. Perm a reproachful look where she stood talking to Jordan. The woman’s hand kept darting out, touching Jordan’s arm as she laughed a bit too loudly at something he’d said.

Holly decided, if it ever came down to it, she knew who she would punch first.

But still, she didn’t have time to fight over a man. She had other things weighing on her mind. As the children began to file back into the room, Holly pulled out her phone. No new messages. No new calls.

She felt a tremor of anxiety in her belly and winced.

How much longer until String Bean called again? Steven String Bean Brener had gone to high school with Holly and her brothers. Now, he worked as a small-time crook with big-time aspirations. Given her boxing background, and their history in school, String Bean had taken Holly on as a part-time repossessor of the rich-and-powerful’s favorite toys. It had been nearly a week now since she’d last had a job. Bills were piling up. Olivia needed her next surgery, and schools like this didn’t come cheap. Her daughter had aplastic anemia, which essentially meant her heart was too big. The operations were on the other side of costly, and time was ticking. Not to mention, without boxing, she still needed to cover rent. A two-year suspension meant Holly had to make the money some other way.

She gritted her teeth and spotted Olivia across the room. She waved at her daughter, and her eight-year-old hurried over, darting through the parents like a mouse through a maze, grinning, her cheeks dimpling and her eyes shining bright. Again, the nerves Holly had been feeling began to melt in the face of her daughter’s delight.

Mommy, Mommy, guess what! Olivia declared.

Holly gave a small little farewell wave to Jordan, and moved through the parents toward her daughter. As she reached her, Holly felt a loosening in her chest, as if somehow a rubber band had been released. She smiled, reaching down and giving Olivia a quick hug. With her daughter so near now, the orientation room and all its parental glory didn’t seem so ominous anymore. She’d sit through a thousand meetings if it meant Olivia would keep smiling like this.

Hey, hon, Holly said. Did you have a good day?

Olivia nodded and launched into an explanation about the Play-Doh creations she’d made with her new friends.

Now taking Olivia by the hand as her daughter prattled about their orientation, Holly half listened in her bid to escape the room, moving out the door. A step ahead of the rest of the parents, Holly hurried as quickly as Olivia’s legs would allow, down the hall, and back toward the front, hoping to escape the parking lot without having to talk to another parent.

"… A parakeet. A real live parakeet, can you believe it, Mommy? Olivia was saying, dancing excitedly in that wiggly, hop-skip motion only kids could manage. Wait!" Olivia suddenly declared.

Holly paused, standing at the intersection of the hallway and the path back toward the sliding exit doors. She bit her lip. What? she asked.

I forgot to say goodbye to Ella!

Livie… you start tomorrow. You’ll see her—

But Olivia had already let go of Holly’s hand and darted back down the path lined with construction paper art to seek out her new friend.

Holly watched, protesting weakly, but deciding, in the end, as far as problems went, friends worthy of a farewell were at the bottom of the list.

She waited, focusing on not tapping her foot this time. As she watched Olivia dash into the music room, though, through a throng of parents beginning to meander down toward the exit as well, Holly felt her phone buzz.

She frowned, glanced down, and read five words from an unknown number.

Things in motion. Trouble tonight. Stay posted.

She stared. Not String Bean’s number. Was it Shawn? His bodyguard… Someone else? Things in motion… What did that even mean?

She lifted the phone, dialing the number back, but was only met by the dial tone. Holly felt a shiver in her stomach as she stared at the text, frowning and waiting rooted to the spot for her daughter to return.

CHAPTER TWO

 As she pulled into the parking lot outside the old, converted factory apartments, Holly looked down at her phone sitting on the dash. No further communication from the unknown number. Things in motion… Trouble tonight.

Was String Bean lining up a new contract? Why wasn’t he using his own phone, then?

She sighed in frustration as she parked, exited the vehicle, and waited for her daughter, who was still skipping happily. She held Olivia’s hand as they walked across the parking lot toward the sidewalk, beneath the safety lights lining the benches and regimented trees. A large, locker-shaped series of mailboxes faced the well-maintained asphalt streets.

Sparrow’s Point, just outside the city, had once been an industrial complex, now turned residential. And though the factories had been domesticated, not all the people had gone the same way. As Mrs. Gunderson from 3C liked to say, We got some strange cookies roaming these halls… Holly and Olivia’s apartment, previously a Tupperware factory, had now been turned into a series of spacious units with large, floor-to-ceiling windows.

Holly shivered at the thought. She had always enjoyed the windows, illuminating the small apartments. But now, they felt exposing. She glanced up, toward the third floor. A few days ago, she had replaced the thin, gauze-like curtains with thick, blue drapes.

Boyd was back in town.

Her ex was running some sort of scam, hoping to get in his parole officer’s good graces. In his warped, twisted mind, an eight-year-old girl was the perfect tool to schmooze his babysitter this side of a federal lock-up.

Boyd knew where they lived. Twice now, he’d tried to trick his way into the building.

Holly took Olivia’s hand a bit tighter, pulling her closer, and moved through the buzzer doors at the bottom of the industrial complex. She marched up the stairs to the third floor, passing the door to Edith Gunderson’s and her brood of six children. The old sailor’s wife often looked after Olivia, and was one of Holly’s few remaining friends in the world.

Can I see Maddie? Olivia exclaimed.

It’s a school night, remember? You’re starting tomorrow.

It’s still early, Livie protested.

Holly sighed. I still need to find a babysitter for you tonight. If I can’t, you might have to go over there anyway.

Olivia nibbled at her lip, considering the compromise, but then nodded.

They pushed into the apartment with a jangle of keys. No sooner had they entered than a large woolly mammoth came roaring out of the kitchen, nearly bowling Holly over in his desperate attempt to reach Olivia, and began licking at her hands.

Holly watched as Frank, the massive mutt who’d followed her home on a job a few weeks ago, continued to lick and nose at Olivia’s