Chaps and Chance

by Evans, Jessie

  Alone. With blood on her hands.

  Layla swept her damp palms down the sides of her jeans, willing herself not to start shaking. She’d known this could happen. She’d been caught off guard, but she wasn’t unprepared.

  All she had to do was stick to the script she’d written for herself and she would be fine.

  Unless they have proof.

  Unless they found prints, or the empty sugar bowl you buried, or traces of chemicals in the pantry where there shouldn’t be any traces, not assuming contaminated well water was the sole source of the poisoning.

  Layla swallowed, forcing the last of her saliva down her bone-dry throat, and shoved the panicked thoughts to the back of her mind. If she didn’t stay focused, she was going to give herself away. She may have fooled Wayne for a year, but back then she’d been primal Layla, a creature whose conscience had been eroded by years of living in fear.

  She wasn’t that person anymore.

  Now, she had regrets, hopes, dreams, and so much to live for.

  She had a brother who was back in her life for the first time in years, whom she grew closer to every day. She had a new sister-in-law she loved like blood family, friends who insisted she deserved happiness, and a man who made her feel things she’d never dreamed she would feel again. A man who cared about her and wanted to be there for her.

  At least she hoped Cole would still want to stand beside her when she left the police station today.

  If she left the station today…

  Everything was riding on how she handled herself right now—her new relationship, her future happiness, and the freedom she’d fought so hard for. She took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her sides, following Ned to the last door at the end of the hall.

  “It’s messy, but after four decades on the job I tell myself it could be worse,” Ned said as he opened the door to a cluttered office.

  The large desk on the right side of the room was covered with stacks of manila folders and thicker gray folders Layla guessed were case files. In the far left corner, two glutted filing cabinets huddled side-by-side, papers peeking from the edges of the drawers, making them look like they were toddlers who’d stuffed their mouths too full. On either side of the entrance, piles of thick hardcover books were stacked on the floor, forming a shield that hid the lower half of Ned’s office from people walking by the glass wall.

  The only clean, uncluttered place was the well-worn pleather chair in front of Ned’s desk, where he motioned for her to sit down.

  “I like a little mess, myself.” Layla settled in, her voice amazingly steady, considering her pulse was racing so fast she felt like she’d received an injection of pure adrenaline. “I think piles of books, especially, are comforting. They make a room feel heavier. In a good way.”

  Ned smiled kindly. “Well, thank you. I’ll tell my wife that tonight. She’s always after me to clean up my office and find the floor again.”

  Layla’s creaky grin felt about as authentic as the fake leather of the chair beneath her. “So what is it you want to talk about?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you were here to report first,” Ned said, clearing a space on his desk for a yellow notepad and pulling a pen from the top drawer. “Then we can get back around to my questions.”

  “I’d rather answer your questions first if that’s okay,” Layla said. “I’m a little anxious. I’ve never been questioned by the police before and I’d like to know what this is about.”

  Ned nodded and made a note on his pad, though what he could have to make a note about this early in the conversation was a mystery to her. Unless she already sounded guilty, or had a guilty look on her face, or they really had found the sugar bowl and trace amounts of arsenic, no matter how deep a hole she’d dug or how many pieces she’d smashed the ceramic into before she’d buried them.

  Stop it! Right now.

  Concentrate. Focus. And don’t offer any more information than you absolutely have to. Remember: you’re ignorant and innocent and as shocked about all this as the rest of the family.

  “Well, Layla—” He broke off and glanced up. “Is it okay if I call you Layla? I like to keep things casual. I’d be happy for you to call me Ned.”

  “Of course, Ned. Layla is fine.”

  “All right then.” He smiled again, but his eyes didn’t crinkle at the edges this time and Layla felt watched in a way she hadn’t before.

  She took another deep breath, willing her jaw to relax and her features not to give her away.

  “It seems the well at the house you shared with your husband has been poisoned,” Ned said. “And your mother-in-law seems pretty convinced you were the one who did it.”

  “What?” Layla widened her eyes before she allowed her brows to draw together, letting her very real anger show. Her mother-in-law had turned a blind eye to the bruises on Layla’s body for years, refusing to believe anything but the best of her baby boy. But it seemed she had no trouble rushing to accuse Layla without an ounce of evidence. “That’s crazy! Absolutely crazy. I don’t even know what else to say. I am completely thrown.”

  “So you didn’t poison the well?” Ned’s gaze didn’t waver from her face for a second. “You didn’t contaminate it with arsenic before you left your husband in December, in hopes of killing him, sparing yourself a messy divorce, and inheriting his share of the Wheeler property and family business?”

  Layla’s eyes bulged and she made a strangled, choking sound. “I-I can’t believe you’re asking me that. Of course not! Not in a million years. I knew leaving Wayne was going to be hard, but I would never. Never!”

  “Why was it going to be hard?” Ned asked with gentle insistence, leaving her no clue if he was buying her innocent act or not. “Was he an unkind man? I’m familiar with Wayne and his brothers and I know the pack of them have a looser grip on their tempers than they should.”

  “I…I don’t…” Layla swallowed and cast her gaze down to her hands, her thoughts racing.

  Admitting Wayne had been abusive gave her motive, but if she lied she knew it would only create more problems down the line. She had to stick as close to the truth as possible, it was the best way to sell a lie. Wayne had taught her that, every time he’d convinced her it was her poor housekeeping or lack of commitment to their marriage that had earned her a harsh word or sent her latest failed culinary effort crashing into the garbage as he stormed from the room.

  “I’m sorry to ask such personal questions, Layla, but I need to get to the truth,” Ned said in his sweet grandpa voice, the one she was sure had convinced more than a few dim-witted criminals to give away their secrets.

  But she wasn’t dim-witted. Her brain had saved her life more than once and if she kept her cool and stuck to the plan it would save her again.

  “I understand,” she said softly, lifting her chin and meeting Ned’s gaze. “He wasn’t simply unkind. He was cruel. He hurt me and frightened me and I couldn’t wait to get away from him, but that doesn’t mean I would do something like this. I don’t want to hurt Wayne; I just want to be left alone.”

  “I understand, and I feel for you,” Ned said with what sounded like real sympathy in his tone. “But I know how these things go. Sometimes a man like that won’t let the woman he’s been hurting go without a fight. Sometimes doing something drastic can feel like the only way out.”

  Layla fought the urge to laugh, knowing a hysterical outburst was the last thing she needed right now. But God, this man was good. He was smarter than anyone in town gave him credit for.

  Thankfully, however, she hadn’t underestimated the authorities.

  “I’m offended by what you’re implying, Ned,” she said, hitting his name harder than she had before. “Like I said before, I had nothing to do with this. I would never hurt another human being, not Wayne or anyone else.” She paused, forehead furrowing as she pretended to sort her way through a theory just rising from her subconscious.

  “But we were both struggling with health p
roblems this past year,” she continued slowly. “Deborah thought we had mold in the house and should get someone in to test things, but Wayne kept saying no. But now I wonder if the bad well water was to blame? Maybe the water’s been contaminated for a while, while I was living there, too?”

  Ned was silent for a moment, studying her face as his jaw worked back and forth. But finally, he nodded and another kind smile spread across his face. “You might be right. I’m sorry to have offended you, Layla. That was never my intention. I’m just doing my job.”

  “I understand.” She sat up straighter in her chair and glanced toward the door. “Does that mean I’m free to go?”

  “Sure thing,” Ned said. “But I’m hoping you’ll let my lab tech collect a few hairs before you go. You’re not obligated to at this time. I don’t have a warrant and you can refuse to cooperate until I have one, but I sure would appreciate your cooperation.”

  Layla cocked an eyebrow, shooting him a dubious look as if she hadn’t been expecting this from the moment he started asking about the well. “I want to cooperate, but why on earth would you need my hair?”

  “Arsenic poisoning shows up in human hair, fingernails, too,” Ned explained. “We already have a sample from your husband. If we can get a sample from you, then we can see if the length of exposure matches. That will also help us start figuring out who might have done this. Timing is important. Once we know when it started, we can start looking back to see if you or Wayne made any new enemies around the time you were poisoned.”

  Layla frowned and paused for a long moment, but finally nodded her consent. “All right. You can have your hair samples, but I honestly can’t think of anyone who would want to poison our well. Wayne and I didn’t leave the ranch often enough to make any enemies. He spent most of his time working with his brothers and I spent most of my time in my office at the house. I worked from home until I was let go in December.”

  “I heard that. That you were let go from a job you’d held for seven years,” Ned said, obviously having gotten an earful from Deborah. “And without references. Mrs. Wheeler seemed to think that was another reason you might be holding a grudge against her family and her son.”

  Layla sighed. “I wasn’t let go until after I left the property and I haven’t been back there since. Seems to me Deborah is getting swept up in a drama she’s inventing. I mean, isn’t there a chance the well wasn’t even poisoned? Doesn’t groundwater occasionally become contaminated on its own?”

  Something flickered behind Ned’s eyes and Layla silently cursed herself for saying too much. She should have kept up the innocent and ignorant act and gotten out of there while she was ahead.

  Instead, she’d renewed Ned’s suspicions, she knew it even before he said—

  “It can, and we’ll have to do some more investigation before we’ll know for sure what happened. But not many people realize that arsenic occurs in nature. I had to explain that possibility to your mother-in-law. She thought it only came from rat poison.”

  Layla nodded slowly, keeping her face impassive. “Well, I don’t know much about wells, either, but I figured there must have been a reason we had the water tested every few years.” She slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. “So do I need to go see someone about the hair sample or—”

  “Nope,” he said, pushing his chair away from his desk with a soft groan. “I’ll go get Deb and she’ll come get that collected right now. We’ll have you on your way in time to make the eleven o’clock service if you’re in a churching frame of mind.”

  “Thank you,” Layla said, forcing another smile. “That sounds nice.”

  Ned crossed to the door but stopped before he opened it to turn back to her. “I’m sorry, your report. It nearly slipped my mind. What was it you wanted to talk to us about?”

  “It seems kind of silly now,” Layla said, thoughts racing as she decided how much to tell Ned. “But I think someone was in the house the other night. I didn’t see anyone and there was no sign of a break-in, but there were items out of place and I’m the only one there right now. Grayson and Reece are out of town. So, I don’t know, it made me nervous.”

  “That’s not silly.” Ned crossed his arms over his thin chest. “And you have every right to be nervous. I know your Dad’s in prison, but he had connections with some unsavory people. If one of them is poking around your place, you could be in danger. I’ll send someone out to check for prints later today and we can run them through the system, see if anything pops up.”

  “No, that’s okay.” Layla wrinkled her nose and affected embarrassment. “I could have imagined it. And I’m having the locks changed on Tuesday. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll just keep a closer eye out and give a call if I have anything concrete. I don’t want to waste your time.”

  “It’s not a waste of time,” Ned said. “It’s usually pretty quiet around here on Sundays. I could have someone out to your place around noon if that works for you.”

  “No, I really don’t want to deal with that right now,” Layla said in a firmer voice, knowing she couldn’t let the police inside the house.

  They might find Wayne’s prints and that would end in more questions and more police involvement, which was the last thing she wanted. She should never have come here; she should have trusted her gut and taken care of this herself.

  “I just want to go home and relax,” she continued. “This has been an unexpectedly stressful morning. I’m sure you can understand. I’ve never even had a parking ticket, so to be accused of trying to kill my husband is pretty upsetting.”

  Ned nodded. “Of course. I understand. But please call if you change your mind. Just because I had to ask some hard questions this morning doesn’t mean I’m not here to protect and serve your safety every bit as much as the Wheelers.” He opened the door. “Hang tight and Deb will be right in.”

  “Thank you,” Layla said, grateful when Ned moved away down the hall.

  But she didn’t relax back into her chair. She wasn’t dropping her guard until she was far away from the police station, behind closed doors, huddled in the dark where she could drop her head between her knees and hyperventilate until the panic faded and reason returned.

  Hopefully, Cole wouldn’t mind her making use of his closet for an hour or two.

  Her jaw clenched and her eyes slid closed. Cole. What was she going to tell him?

  That doesn’t matter as much as what you aren’t going to tell him.

  She opened her eyes, anxiety spiking in her bloodstream all over again. Even if she thought Cole would understand why she’d done what she’d done—and she wasn’t sure he would; he said he wanted to kill Wayne, but people said things like that all the time without having murderous intentions—she could never tell him the truth. If she did, she’d make him an accessory after the fact and he would end up in trouble if she were eventually charged with a crime.

  She was going to have to lie to him, no matter how much she was going to hate it.

  All she wanted was to keep moving forward in the same easy, open way they’d begun, but that was impossible.

  Her past wasn’t ready to let her go, yet. Until it was, she would never be free to move on with a life with Cole or anyone else.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cole

  Cole had just finished leaving his second message for the lawyer when Layla stepped through the door to the police station and started down the steps. She looked pale and her face was pinched and tense, but when she met his eyes, she smiled.

  “What’s up?” Cole asked, crossing to meet her as she stepped onto the sidewalk. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She ran her hands through her hair, gathering the silver and black strands together at the nape of her neck. “Or I will be. It’s just the latest Wheeler family craziness. It will blow over sooner or later.”

  “I heard,” Cole said, finally starting to relax. “I called John to get the name of the lawyer my mom used in our land dispute a few years ago. He told me
he’d heard that the Wheelers are accusing you of poisoning one of their wells.”

  Layla’s eyes lifted skyward. “Great. So it’s already all over town.” She let out a long, defeated breath. “Hopefully, I’ll still have a job when I go into the diner tomorrow. Nicky is a sweet woman, but she’s the type to believe what she hears floating around the truck stop without bothering to separate fact from fiction.”

  “You’ll have a job. No one’s going to believe the Wheelers’ bullshit,” Cole assured her, ignoring the guilty tug the words triggered in his chest. For someone who professed to find the charges ridiculous, he’d been awfully anxious to get a lawyer on the phone a couple of minutes ago. “Everyone knows they’re always looking for an excuse to think someone’s out to get them or that the end of the world is around the corner.”

  “I didn’t.” Layla tied her hair into a knot with a flip of her wrist, a trick that left her looking like a disheveled ballerina and even prettier than with her hair down. “But I was a dumb kid when Wayne and I got married. I saw how close the Wheelers were and thought it was nice for a family to be there for each other.”

  She glanced across the street, toward the closed sandwich shop and Laundromat, a haunted expression on her face. “I didn’t see the pack mentality. Or realize I was never going to be in their inner circle, no matter how long Wayne and I were married or how much money I saved their business.”

  She turned back to him, smiling again, but the troubled look in her eyes remained. “But let’s not waste any more of this beautiful day talking about crazy people. You want to go for a ride? We could take lunch and have a picnic somewhere. Your place or mine makes no difference to me.”

  “Sounds good,” Cole said, before adding cautiously, “but do you think we should try to get in touch with a lawyer first? Just in case? If you don’t want to use the guy I called, we can look for someone else. I’ve never worked with them, but Harmon and Harmon are supposed to be good.”