A Box Full of Trouble

by Carolyn Haines

  No, that didn’t make sense. First off, Layla was the only person he knew who used bright pink flash drives. Further, Phillip no doubt had a secure safe somewhere in his office and house. Why hide something in a bathroom, especially something that looked surprisingly like a first and second draft of a law review article about offshore oil drilling? He’d read the two versions of the same article three times on the pink flash drive, noting some differences between the two drafts. Then he’d studied them again. He couldn’t find anything that would drive someone to mug Layla and try to burn down her apartment.

  Nope, all there was on that flash drive was technical stuff, heavily laced with citations to laws and obscure documents, with a discussion of endless government regulations—exactly the kind of stuff Layla excelled at finding, deciphering, and writing about. No doubt given her father’s oil business in Houston, she’d been studying oil exploration and drilling issues since long before she entered law school. But the stuff in the articles made the back of his neck tense with frustration and disgust. Couldn’t those oil and gas people just leave the Gulf of Mexico alone? Hadn’t they done enough harm to the Gulf already?

  Victor had to find Layla, that was all there was to it. He’d make her explain what the materials on the flash drive meant. He also had to study his estate and gift tax reading assignment, and finish it tonight.

  Wearily, he grabbed his textbook and a notebook, threw them into his backpack and headed out. He’d talk to Layla, then head to the law library to study.

  Victor gunned his small Ford Ranger pickup, a vintage model for sure, but churning along just fine year after year, and headed over to Abby’s house. When he saw Layla’s Honda in the driveway, he parked, and knocked on the door. The cat poked his head through the curtain on the front window and meowed at him. Victor tapped the glass and spoke to the cat, wishing he could get inside to pet it and toss it a few treats.

  Obviously, neither Layla nor Abby were home—or if they were, they weren’t opening the door for him.

  Victor jumped back into his truck and headed to the law school. Maybe he’d find Layla in her law review office, where she sometimes worked late at night. He desperately wanted to ask her if she had hidden the flash drive on the back of Phillip Draper’s toilet, and, if so, why.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Abby steered her Prius with concentration as she merged into the never-ending traffic on the Fly-Over that led downtown to the law school. She was dying to ask Layla what she and Jennifer had discussed, but Layla’s expression didn’t invite questions. Abby, raised to be polite, didn’t ask.

  They drove in silence, Abby with her hands at nine and three o’clock on the steering wheel and Layla twirling her hair and looking out the window. Turning down Pensacola Street, Abby was glad to see that this late at night she could snag a parking spot right in front of the school.

  They crawled out of the Prius and walked toward the law school. Suddenly Layla spun around, facing Abby, and grabbed her arm as if to stop her. Abby jerked to a halt.

  “What?” Abby blurted it out, stunned by Layla’s aggression.

  “Don’t tell anyone.” Layla snapped it out like an order. But, perhaps recognizing how she sounded, she gave Abby a half-way smile. “I mean, please. Promise me you won’t mention Jennifer’s visit to anyone.”

  Abby nodded, not sure how to reply.

  “I mean, not anyone.” Layla looked pleadingly into Abby’s eyes. “This is something just between Jennifer and me, all right? It doesn’t have a thing to do with the law firm. Private stuff that needs to stay private.”

  Abby nodded again.

  “Promise me. Say it out loud. That you will not mention to anyone, no matter what, that Jennifer came over tonight.” Layla’s fingers dug into Abby’s arm.

  “All right. Yes. I promise.” Abby pulled her arm from Layla’s grip and started to accuse Layla of being melodramatic. But what good would that do? Layla was dramatic and flashy. That was her style.

  “Say it. You promise not to tell anyone no matter what that Jennifer visited me at your house.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Abby blurted it out, sorry now that she’d agreed to Layla going with her to the law library. Nonetheless, she dutifully repeated, “I promise not to tell anyone, no matter what, that Jennifer visited you at my house.”

  “Good. Let’s go inside and get this damn brief done for Delphine.” Layla said Delphine’s name like a cuss word. “I want to get home as soon as we can.”

  A moment later, Layla slid her access card through a side door so they could cruise right in. They hurried up a flight of stairs, but at the top, Abby paused and turned to the wide doors that led to the student lounge. “Let’s grab some bottled tea before we head downstairs.”

  Layla nodded as they trudged down the hallway. When they stepped into the student lounge, Abby was startled to see Miguel with Phillip, their heads bent over a pile of papers.

  “Miguel,” Layla said under her breath. “And Phillip?” Despite the puzzled tone in Layla’s voice, she fluffed her wild hair with her finger tips and turned toward them. Miguel spotted them and waved. Phillip looked up, his face a blank mask.

  A moment later, the two men gathered up their papers and moved toward them. Layla put on a smile so big her molars showed.

  Phillip nodded. “Abby, Layla, I’m surprised to see you two here.”

  As if to make up for Phillip’s curt greeting, Miguel beamed. His voice was enthusiastic as he said, “Ladies, how wonderful to see you both. Layla, my brightest student, and Abby, delightful to meet again so soon.”

  Abby felt a blush spreading up her face. Layla stood beside her, watching Miguel and Phillip, her big smile still in place.

  “Well,” Phillip said, glancing at his Rolex, “it’s getting late. Jennifer will be waiting for me. If you will excuse me, I’ll bid everyone a good night.”

  They said their goodbyes and watched Phillip leaving the lounge. As he disappeared out the door, Miguel turned back to Layla and Abby, his expression both quizzical and pleased.

  “What brings you two to the law school so late?” Miguel glanced at Abby, before casting his eyes back on Layla.

  “What brings you to the law school so late?” Layla’s voice had gone low and throaty, and she tilted her head toward Miguel and eased a step closer.

  She’s flirting with him, Abby thought as a wave of indignation on Victor’s behalf hit her.

  Miguel laughed. “Seminar night. Phillip was my guest speaker. We were just going over some student feedback. Now, your turn. What’s so important that you’re here this late?”

  Abby glanced over his head to the wall clock. Only a little after 9:30. Not that late. Not for law students and young associates. She looked back at Miguel and said,

  “Trial brief. Due tomorrow.”

  “We won’t be here very long. Just a quick in and out.” Layla grinned at Miguel when she said that. “I’m just here to help speed it up.”

  Abby wondered where Layla got the idea this would be a quick job, but smiled too. Everybody was smiling, so why not?

  “Layla does excellent research.” Miguel winked at Layla. “I can vouch for her talents and persistence. She’s even digging into the ancient stacks at the Library of Congress on a project for me.”

  Layla made a strange noise at the back of her throat. To Abby, Layla sounded as if she were trying to purr. Next she’ll be rubbing against him, Abby thought, once more resentful on Victor’s behalf.

  To cover up her indignation, Abby spoke quickly. “I’m sure she’ll be a big help to both of us.” Abby felt like a third wheel and was eager to get out from between Layla and Miguel. She could feel the sparks vibrating between them.

  Layla flipped her hair back, and the bangle bracelets on her arm chimed as she gave Miguel a quick look, something either cautious or coy which Abby couldn’t quite read.

  “Speaking of which, if you two could excuse me for just a moment. I need to pick up something in my law review
office. Don’t go away.” With that, Layla stepped back toward the hallway, dragging her backpack and laptop with her.

  Abby glanced at Miguel, puzzled by Layla’s abrupt leaving and wondering what to say to Miguel.

  “Has Phillip really got you working this late? I’ll have to speak to him.” Miguel leaned close to Abby, his eyes focused deeply on her own.

  Nervous from the attention, Abby blurted out, “No, it’s Delphine that has us working late. We’ll be in the basement since I need some really old Florida case law and we were just going to get a boost of green tea before we start.”

  “I’d be glad to have you and Layla come with me to the faculty lounge.” Miguel eased closer to Abby. “I’ll brew you a fresh hot cup of coffee, hot chocolate, or tea. Perhaps some chai tea? We’ve got a complete selection, far better than the student lounge vending machines.”

  Abby hesitated, not wanting to waste the time or get trapped again between Layla and Miguel as they traded pheromones. “We better not. We really need to get this brief done.” Abby smiled up at Miguel, making her keenly aware of how tall he was.

  “Very well.” He gave her a brief smile, but looked over her shoulder as if waiting for Layla.

  Abby glanced toward the doorway. Where was Layla anyway? When she looked back at Miguel, he glanced at Abby.

  “So, Professor,” she blurted out, “what’s up with you these days? How’re your seminar plans with Phillip coming?’

  “Excellent. He’s a gem to work with. But I imagine you know that.”

  Abby nodded, her eagerness to get to work and her fatigue colliding. She didn’t even have the energy to trade small talk.

  “Has Layla told you I’m up for tenure this year? That’s one reason I’m designing the seminar for Phillip and me. To show the committee I’m totally dedicated to this school and my students. And we’ll be opening it to a few disadvantaged undergrad students free of charge to show my commitment to public service.”

  “How wonderful for you.”

  “Not so wonderful. It’s very rigorous. The school really puts a professor through the wringer before granting tenure. But you know about that, right?” Miguel gave her an inquiring look.

  Of course, she knew about the tenure process. A professor had to meet certain strict criteria, including publication of original research in a well-respected law review or having one’s manuscript published as a book. The old “publish or perish” rule was especially brutal for law professors. If Miguel did not have the appropriate publications, he simply would not get tenure, no matter how many extra seminars he taught.

  Thinking about “publish or perish,” Abby wondered if Miguel had written another book. “Do you have a new book? I still have your first one, even read it again last year.” She actually had reread Miguel’s history of how the early United States Supreme Court had shaped America’s future, and still found the tidbits of personal information on the court justices fascinating.

  “No, no new book yet, but I’m working on one. Layla is helping me with the research.”

  “Really?” Abby wondered why Layla hadn’t mentioned anything about working with Miguel.

  As if on cue, Layla hurried into the lounge and headed toward them. Abby waved at her, then felt foolish for waving.

  “We better skip the tea and hurry,” Layla said, as she stepped up to Abby. “Victor and Emmett are meeting us downstairs in a moment.”

  Puzzled, Abby turned to look at Layla, her mouth opened to ask why in the world Emmett and Victor would be meeting them. But Miguel spoke before she got the question out.

  “No, come on, let me show off the faculty lounge and fix you two a cup of something to drink. Your boyfriends will wait for you.”

  Abby’s tone was all but snippy when she exclaimed, “Emmett’s not my boyfriend.” She was embarrassed anyone might even think that.

  “You’ve met Victor,” Layla said, staring right at Miguel as if daring him to deny it.

  “Oh, yes, your military man. The former Navy police officer, right?”

  Layla smiled in a way that confirmed Abby’s belief that Layla and Victor were very much an item. At the thought that they’d obviously made up, Abby felt strangely disappointed. But more than that, she puzzled over this flirtation if Miguel knew Layla had a boyfriend. Maybe the challenge was part of the fun for him? But thinking back to the way he’d been with her at the law firm, Abby decided it was just Miguel’s way to flirt.

  Which didn’t explain Layla’s hair flipping and throaty answers.

  “We really need to go meet them.” This time Layla sounded all business.

  Glad to get to work, Abby didn’t argue.

  “Good night, then, ladies,” Miguel said, smiling once more at Layla in that slow, sensual way. He began to drift off, but turned once to look back at them.

  Layla hurried toward the basement stairs, but Abby stopped at the drink machine that had been their original goal. She dug out some dollar bills and pushed them in, selecting a bottle of sweet green mango tea for herself and a bottle of unsweetened green tea with mint for Layla.

  Juggling her purse, the bottled teas, and her laptop, Abby hurried after Layla.

  As they made their way down the stairs to the basement floor of the library, Abby asked, “So, you’re helping Miguel with research on his book?”

  “Yeah.” Layla swiped her access card and they stepped inside the basement room of the library where old case law and old legal books were kept. All the lights were blazing and the room was frigid with full-tilt air conditioning, yet a diffused musty smell still floated in the air.

  Abby stared at Layla, conscious again that Layla didn’t mind asking Abby the most personal questions, but she didn’t ever seem inclined to share much information about herself. “Yeah?” Abby repeated. “That’s all you’ve got to say about it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about Victor and Emmett? You didn’t really invite them to come help us, did you?”

  “Yes, actually, I did. Emmett, anyway. He’s delighted in that nerdy way of his. I need to call Victor now.”

  Abby wasn’t sure the “more the merrier” was a good plan on legal research, especially when Emmett was involved. It looked like Victor and Layla had made up though, and no doubt that was the real reason Layla had invited the men—Emmett to help with the research and Victor to visit with Layla.

  Abby sighed, dreading Emmett’s hovering and unable to shake her lingering disappointment over Layla and Victor getting back together.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The outer door to the suite of law review offices was unlocked and Victor stepped inside. He didn’t see anyone, but headed straight for Layla’s office. Maybe she wasn’t over being mad at him. But, damn it all, she was in some kind of trouble. If she wasn’t in her office where he could ask her about the flash drive he’d found taped to the Drapers’ toilet tank, he might just snoop a bit and see if he spotted anything that matched with the materials on the flash drive.

  Victor jiggled Layla’s door. Naturally it was locked. The lights were out and it didn’t make any kind of sense that she’d be sitting inside in the dark. He looked around. Nobody anywhere in sight. He switched off his cell phone. It wouldn’t do to have it ring while he was breaking, entering, and snooping. Once the cell phone was off, he tried the door again, shaking the knob with a bit more force. Then he bent down and scrutinized the locking mechanism on the door.

  The intricacies of plumbing weren’t the only thing his father had pressed Victor to learn. The man might have been a jerk with a ruthless attitude toward most things, but he was an ace mechanic, a fearless high-rise window cleaner, a competent roofer, and a jack-leg locksmith. He’d taught these skills to Victor, insisting as he did that his son would always know how to make a living.

  Victor laughed, wondering if his dad ever used his skills to break in. Manipulating the thin, narrow blade on his pocket knife, Victor worked the cheap lock opened in less than a minute. It wasn’t the first time he f
elt grateful to his father for all the how-to-do lessons over the rough years of his youth. He ought to mention to Layla that the door didn’t provide any real security.

  Fortunately, enough light from the hallway and the high office window filtered in that he could see his way around. Victor booted up the PC on Layla’s desk. While it was going through its gyrations, he flipped through a few loose papers on her desk. Quickly bored with them, he looked through her drawer and spotted a library access card. There were also collections of other access cards labeled law review, which he assumed might be keys to the law review offices. But right now, it was the library access card that held his interest. He could slide the card through the scanner on any of the locked rooms or basement and get inside—one of the perks Layla particularly enjoyed. Victor was tempted, but he’d never been a thief.

  Yet, if Layla was in the library, she might well be in the basement. Something about all those old books down there fascinated her of late. He slipped the access card into his shirt pocket, promising himself he’d bring it back tomorrow. Then as an afterthought, he also pocketed one of the access cards labeled law review. If he didn’t need it to find Layla tonight, he’d return it. He sat down in her chair, planning to scan through her various folders on her computer, looking for something that might be the “secret” he’d heard her mention.

  The computer demanded a password.

  He leaned back in his chair to think. Layla wouldn’t be so simple-minded as to use just a catchy word. No names of dead pets or old boyfriends for her. No, she’d have a complicated string of symbols, letters, and numbers. There was no use trying to guess; he’d just get locked out after the third failed try and she’d know somebody had tried to access her files.