by Robin Caroll
"What?"
"There are too many common denominators linking the fire at the Hope-for-Homes site, the bomb at Second Chances, and now this church."
Maddox swiped at the rain on his face. "Such as?"
"The house and this church both had construction work done in the last year. Second Chances had some remodeling done a little over a year ago."
"Not so uncommon. After the hurricanes of the last few years, there's been a lot of construction in the area."
Houston shook his head. "On both, Layla Taylor was the contractor and the site foreman. She was also both on the renovations to Second Chances. On all three, Dennis LeJeune was the building inspector."
Maddox's argument of coincidence washed away. He glanced over his shoulder at his car. Layla's silhouette was highlighted by the strobing lights of the fire trucks and police cruisers. He turned back to his partner. "What about the independents she contracted for these three jobs?"
"Same on all three: Denny Keys, electrician; Bob Johnson, plumber; Y Building Supplies, supplier; and J. B. Carpentry."
Not just Layla. It could be any of them . . . or the Second Chancers. Not just her.
He cocked his head. "Are you thinking conspiracy?"
Houston shrugged. "Can't rule it out."
"Come on, you've got to be kidding me. What do they have to gain?"
"It's fishy, Bishop. You gotta admit that." Lincoln wiped rain from his face.
Okay, he'd give them that. But Layla wasn't involved. She couldn't be. He knew she wasn't. "There's a connection. We just haven't figured it all out yet."
"We're running out of time here. Three buildings destroyed. Three deaths so far due to this poisoning."
"Three?" Ms. Ethel. Mr. James Page. Had the pastor died?
Houston shifted closer to the tree's trunk. "Remember that baby I told you Margie was concerned with that died?"
Maddox nodded.
"Guess where the family went to church?" Houston shook his head. "They didn't correlate the same symptoms because the other three who'd gotten sick were elderly."
A baby. Dead.
Maddox's gut twisted. "And the threats Layla's received?"
"Could be everyone involved is turning on one another. Could be why LeJeune was murdered. Now the threats against Layla," Lincoln said.
No, that wasn't right. "But the messages to Layla tell her to stop asking questions. If she were involved in some big conspiracy and they were turning on one another, they wouldn't tell her to stop asking questions. They'd tell her to keep her mouth shut. Or whatever."
"True." Houston nodded. "Unless they were trying to throw us offtrack."
Why was his partner being such a jerk about this? He had to know Layla wasn't involved. That she was in danger. "If she were involved, do you think she'd have run to us with the message in the first place?"
"She didn't. Alana did. You just happened to be there." Houston held up his hand. "Look, I'm just trying to be objective and consider all possibilities."
Maddox crossed his arms over his chest. No way was Layla involved in this mess. Not a conspiracy. "What about the break-in at her place? Surely you don't think she'd do that to herself?"
"What was really damaged, Bishop? Two computers gone and paperwork taken. The place trashed a bit. The only thing that was really broken was the window." Lincoln spread his hands. "All minor damage."
He glanced back at his car again. Layla's silhouette was still there, reminding him of her soft tones and willingness to pray over a stranger—his father. Her flawless support of her sister. The way she'd been with her mother.
No, she wasn't involved in any crimes. She was a victim.
He turned back to his partner and Lincoln. "I don't buy that. She's innocent."
Houston peered at him from under the branches of the tree. "Is that based on your detective instincts, or your feelings for her?"
Maddox's face heated. His entire body followed suit. "What is it with you, Houston? You go this whole route of cats and dogs and crazy talk, but then you accuse her of being part of some conspiracy of murder and arson?"
His partner shifted his weight to his other leg. "I'm just trying to look at the big picture. See what's what."
"Do you really think she's involved in some big plan to do . . . whatever?"
Houston glanced at the Mustang. A thick silence permeated the smoke-filled area. Finally he looked back at Maddox. "No, I don't. But we had to at least talk through the possibility."
Maddox glared at Lincoln. "What about you, Vailes? You know her. Do you think Layla's involved in a conspiracy?"
"No." He took a step back. "But your partner's right. We had to consider all options, no matter what our personal feelings are."
Yeah, he knew that. But to even consider her part of this mess was just . . . wrong.
"We need to figure out what the main connection is between these people." Houston waved toward the church. "These burnings."
Burnings—"Houston, we can run a check of all the buildings destroyed over the last year or so and see if there's a common denominator. That would also rule out some of the people involved." He was on to something . . . he could feel it. "If we could find a link between several buildings destroyed over a longer period of time, it's possible we can eliminate some of the groups of people who are connected to these recent events."
That excitement sparkle glinted in his partner's eyes. "Yeah. Maybe we're on to the connection, but we just haven't searched far back enough to see the whole picture." He threw a mock punch at Maddox's arm. "Good work, partner. I'll put a call in to the office in the morning. Get them digging up some details."
Maddox nodded, his own instincts pumping adrenaline through him. "We also need to talk to this CDC specialist. See if we can figure out what we're dealing with on this poisoning issue. Maybe it'll give us another lead."
Lincoln looked at the church. "This is my church. Where Jade and I planned to get married." His words were nearly lost in the storm and noise surrounding the area. "It's destroyed."
Houston followed Lincoln's line of sight. "Maybe not. Won't be able to tell how much damage until the smoke clears. It was called in before it went up in flames, so it probably looks worse now than it really is."
"I hope so." Lincoln wiped his hands on his pants. "Well, I better get back to work. I'll call you with a report as soon as the fire investigator lets me know."
"Thanks, man. Appreciate it." Maddox clapped Lincoln's shoulder before he walked away.
"Not much else for us to do here. Let's head back to Layla's. Maybe she'll have some ideas. We haven't really asked her what she thought."
Maddox nodded. "Meet you there." He turned and headed toward the car. He opened the door and his body went rigid.
Layla wasn't in the Mustang.
IT JUST HAD TO start storming after he set the fire.
He drove by the street, careful to keep the bill of his cap lowered so no one would recognize him. Not that anybody looked—everyone was focused on the church.
Why did it have to start raining? He'd used enough gasoline for the heat to build so the fire would destroy the church in a matter of minutes. Well before the fire department could arrive. He'd had no choice—he had to act. The letter awarding him the riverboat casino bid burned in his pocket.
With the rain's help, the church was still standing. Still holding his secrets for all to uncover.
He turned onto Eternal Springs' main street, heading toward home. The rain had lessened over the last half hour. Just his luck.
At home, he stood under his carport and glared at the sky.
Was this a religion thing? God sending the rain to protect His house?
He didn't know—couldn't know—but it gave him enough of a shiver that he headed inside.
TWENTY-NINE
"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."
—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
"WHAT AR
E YOU DOING here?" Layla stood with hands on her hips. Anything so her trembling wouldn't be noticed. Not that it would with the clouds of smoke billowing over the bayou.
Randy turned, his eyes widening as he locked stares with her. "I could ask you the same thing."
"But I asked first." The rain had slacked to barely a misting, but it'd be enough to make her hair curl and frizz. She ran a hand over her strands.
"I'm fighting the fire." He spread out his arms, drawing her eyes to the coat, pants, and boots.
She should've registered his apparel but had just been so shocked to see him. Again. Here. "Oh."
"So, what are you doing here?"
"I was with Detective Bishop when he got the call." She jerked her head toward the big tree Maddox, Lincoln, and Houston stood under.
Randy's brows shot up. "What're you doing with a cop?"
Good thing it was dark because she was sure her face was beet red. "Long story, and I don't know that I'm at liberty to discuss it with anyone." Make him wonder.
He gave her that look that always said he wasn't buying what she was selling. "Why are the cops here anyway?"
"I would've thought you'd know, helping out the fire department and all." She ducked out of the way as two firemen headed back to the truck, tugging massive hoses.
"It was arson, that's for sure."
Her heart stumbled. "Really?"
"Yeah. The investigator's on his way." He frowned. "But maybe I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you."
Touché. She shifted out of the way of more firemen.
The unmistakable smell of burning wood drifted over the area. She glanced at the church and her stomach turned to lead. The entire stained-glass front was gone, reduced to shards on the ground. "This is so awful."
"Heard one of your sites burned down last week too. Your office got broken into. And Second Chances got hit by a bomb."
He always did know how to cut her to the core. "Guess you could say I'm having a bad week."
"Seriously, I'm sorry about Cameron. Alana must be beside herself." He'd been sweet to her sister, even when he was a jerk to her.
"She's hanging in there." Time to change the subject. "So, what're you doing back in town?" Great. How subtle.
"I'm moving back. They hired me back on at the department, obviously." He grinned. "Have you missed me?" He waggled his eyebrows, something that had once been endearing to her.
Now, it just made him look silly.
"Not really."
Randy laughed.
The heat marched across her face again. "But Natalie probably did." Why did she say that?
His cocky grin widened. "Jealous?"
She snorted. "Not hardly. Not worth getting jealous over."
"No, she's not. We're just good friends."
"I wasn't talking about her." As she said the words, she realized it was the truth. She didn't care enough about him or Natalie to be hurt. He no longer mattered to her.
She did a quick inventory of her emotions where Randy was concerned. No jealousy. No anger. No pain. Relief bubbled in her chest. It didn't even matter that he was back in town permanently.
He was nothing to her except a closed chapter in her life.
His grin faded. "I see you've kept your claws sharp."
"No, not really. I've just grown up. Learned my lessons the hard way."
His expression turned serious. "Look, Layla, I never meant to hurt you. I said some pretty ugly things to you—things I said in anger."
"Don't worry about it. No harm, no foul." She shrugged. Surprised that she meant what she said. "It's in the past."
"No, I'm sorry. I was a jerk."
"Well, you were a jerk." She smiled.
He grinned and shook his head. "So, we're cool?"
"We're cool."
"Good. I didn't like the way things were left between us." He leaned over and pulled her into a hug.
It felt . . . nice. Peaceful. Like she'd survived an ordeal and come out better on the other side.
"You take care," she whispered into his neck.
He straightened. "You too."
Layla pulled back, still smiling because she was really over the pain and anger. She turned back to the Mustang.
And met Maddox's smoldering stare.
SHE'D DEFIED HIS DIRECT order . . . to make out with her ex?
Maddox ground his teeth and concentrated on breathing instead of punching Randy Dean square in his smiling face.
Layla approached slowly, the smile wiped from her face.
And to think, his heart had stopped when he'd opened the door and realized she wasn't in the Mustang.
"Hi." She stopped at the passenger door and spoke over the roof.
"I thought I told you to stay in the car."
She glanced over her shoulder at Dean, then back to him. "I saw someone I knew."
"Your ex, right?"
"How'd you know Randy and I dated?" Her brows bunched. "Have you been checking up on me?"
"I'm a detective, remember? That's my job."
"To check up on me?" Her voice carried over the wind and ruckus.
"Just get in." He plopped behind the steering wheel and slammed his door.
She mimicked his actions. "You really checked up on me. What's my past dating record have to do with anything?"
He started the car and slammed it in reverse. "Did it ever occur to you the coincidental timing of Dean's return? Showing up in town right about the time the Hope-for-Homes site was burned?"
"How do you know when he came back? I didn't even know until he just showed up at . . ." She lowered her head.
"Your dance performance last week, right?" Where she looked so beautiful she nearly took his breath away. He put the car in drive.
She jerked her focus to him. "How did you know?"
"As I said, I'm a detective." He punched the gas pedal harder.
Layla huffed.
He refused to say any more. Let her stew.
"To answer your implied question, no, I don't think Randy had anything to do with the house burning."
"Why's that?" Maddox clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Hearing her take up for her ex . . . Well, he didn't like it. Not at all.
"Because Randy's a fireman. He puts out fires, not starts them."
"Who better to know how to start one than a fireman?"
Her mouth opened, then clamped shut.
Good. He didn't think he could take her making excuses for Dean. How could she? He'd seen her face that night at the performance. She'd been shocked and hurt. But they'd been hugging just moments ago. Smiling.
Had they kissed and made up?
His stomach turned. The thought of her kissing Dean made him nauseated.
"What would Randy have to gain by killing Dennis? He didn't even know him."
Maddox spared her a glance. She looked too good right now, with her hair all curly and messy. Had Dean run his fingers through it? Maddox strangled the smooth leather of the steering wheel and turned his attention back to the road. "Do you know that for certain?"
"I'm pretty positive. They didn't exactly run in the same circles."
"Maybe LeJeune showed up at the house for some strange reason—maybe to do a last check or something—and found Dean there about to set fire to it."
She snorted. "Like Dennis would be out on a site checking something at eleven thirty or later? And Randy just happened to have a gun on him, just in case someone showed up?"
Her sarcasm plowed across his heart. "Maybe he was setting you up. Did you ever think of that?" He turned onto her street. "Doing it to make you look guilty?"
She laughed. "Then he broke into my office—for what? And planted a bomb at Second Chances for no good reason. Oh, and then sent text messages to Alana's and my phones to threaten me to stop asking questions. Hmm. Wonder what questions I was asking that had anything to do with him."
Okay, so he hadn't worked out the plausibility of everything, but the guy was still a suspect in Madd
ox's book.
And forget the fact that he was so jealous it was all he could do not to turn the car around and go find Dean and pummel him into oblivion.
She pinched her lips together and stared out the window. He whipped the car into her driveway and killed the engine. He took several silent, deep breaths. "When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it."
Layla flipped her hair out of her eyes. "Fine." She was out of the car like a bullet from his sidearm.
He rushed out to step in front of her before she could make it up the stairs. Darkness surrounded them as the midnight hour approached. "It was for your safety."
"I was fine."
"Do you have any idea what I thought when I opened the door and you weren't there? You've had threats against you." He hated the way his voice lifted on the last word.
Those cat eyes of hers widened. "I-I didn't think about that. I'm sorry." She gave a little shake of her head. "I didn't mean to alarm you like that. I just saw . . . an old friend."
Old friend? Who did she think she was fooling? "And you rushed out of the car to go talk to him, despite what I'd instructed you—for your own safety." Was she that desperate to reconnect with Dean? How strong were her feelings for him?
Maddox stiffened. Why did he care?
Because he'd developed feelings for her. Real and deep feelings. And they were growing stronger.
"I'm sorry, Maddox. I didn't mean to cause anyone to worry. Least of all you." Her voice was so soft . . . so sweet.
He didn't think. Didn't want to. He needed to know how she felt about him. If there was a chance for something between them.
Never breaking eye contact, Maddox swept his hands on either side of her face, plunging his fingers deep into her silky hair. He hesitated for a heartbeat as he registered her quick intake of air. Then, as if in slow motion, he lowered his lips to hers. He could feel every pounding of his pulse. It echoed inside his head.
His lips grazed against hers. Soft. Supple. Warm. Inviting.
His head spun like the ground had just shifted. Her flowery scent surrounded him, filling his senses. He deepened the kiss, staggering a step closer, pulling her against his chest. Her response made him hold her tighter.
