Key Lime Pie

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “Layla.”

  Sadie looked up and saw that while she’d been lost in her ponderings, a man had approached them. He was in his forties, Sadie guessed. What was left of his red hair was short and faded. He was wearing a lavender button-up shirt and slacks with crisp pleats down the front that screamed dry-cleaned—men who ironed their own pants never did the creases right. Sadie wondered if he was a police detective.

  Layla’s expression didn’t change, making it impossible for Sadie to determine if Layla knew him. After a moment, Layla looked away and crossed her arms. “It’s past lunchtime,” she said again, and although her tone stayed the same, Sadie picked up on new tension.

  “Yes, it is past lunchtime,” the man said with a sympathetic nod. He looked around the room at the officers milling around. “Have they said when you can go home?”

  “No,” Layla said. “But I’m hungry.”

  The man nodded again. He was worried about her; Sadie could read it in the lines of his face, which made her think he wasn’t with the police department after all—they didn’t let their emotions show so easily.

  He held out his hand to Sadie. “You must be Eric’s friend, Sandy.”

  “Sadie,” she replied, appreciating his firm grip while wondering who he was and what Eric had told him about her.

  “Sadie, that’s right. Sorry.”

  “No problem,” Sadie assured him. “I’ve been called worse.”

  He smiled. “I’m Larry.”

  “Oh,” Sadie said, almost as an exclamation. He looked surprised at her reaction, and she hurried to explain. “Layla mentioned you.”

  Larry nodded, but still looked a little bit uncomfortable. Sadie was dying to ask him questions—about Layla, about himself, about the whole used-to-be-married-but-Layla-still-lives-in-his-house thing. Never mind that despite being limited—that was the word Mathews had used—how was it that Layla had been married twice?

  No questions, she told herself. Just finish.

  “I’m going to, um, talk to someone and see when Layla can go home,” Larry said, moving away from them.

  Layla didn’t look at him when he tried to make eye contact, but Sadie nodded and then watched him cross the room and talk to one officer before nodding and going to another one. The second officer he approached was talking on the phone, so Larry stood to the side, waiting patiently for his turn to speak. Sadie went back to her paperwork, but looked up at Larry a time or two as she made more notations.

  Larry returned after a minute and directed his comments to Sadie. “I guess they have to talk to a sergeant about Layla leaving, and he’s in with Eric.”

  Sadie nodded, suddenly remembering that Layla had said Eric and Larry had been together this morning. “Sergeant Mathews,” she said, pointing toward the door. “They’ve been in there for nearly half an hour.”

  Larry looked at the door with trepidation. “I went back to the house and the officers there told me to come here.” Once again, raised voices spilled out from beneath the door, and Larry shook his head. “Eric’s making everything worse, isn’t he?”

  “He’s certainly not making things better,” Sadie replied, wondering what the relationship was between Eric and Larry. She couldn’t stop herself. “You and Eric were together this morning, right?”

  Larry nodded. “I had to go to work, though. I’m off for lunch, but have to get back in . . .” He looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

  “Eric’s rental car was at the house when I arrived this morning, but he wasn’t.”

  “He had my car,” Larry said, glancing at Layla again. Sadie tried to remember if she’d seen another car at the house after Eric arrived, but there had been several cars at the house. “A coworker took me to the house to pick it up.” A crease showed on his forehead as he looked around the station again. He seemed increasingly uncomfortable.

  “Where do you work?” Sadie asked.

  “The Speedway,” he answered.

  Sadie wondered if that was a grocery store or something.

  Larry glanced at the officer he’d been speaking with before. “I better go see what I need to do.”

  He turned but hadn’t moved very far before Layla shouted, “Get me an orange soda!”

  Larry stopped, clearly embarrassed by her outburst as every officer in the room turned to look. Sadie felt her own cheeks heat up.

  When he didn’t answer, Layla continued. “Are you going to get me an orange soda or not?”

  “Sure, Layla,” he said, his voice quiet, but not upset. Sadie suspected he was used to this and wondered again what was wrong with this woman.

  Larry walked away and an officer directed him down a short hallway that Sadie assumed led to a vending machine. She shook her head, unimpressed that Larry was so quick to give in. Layla might be forty-something years old, but she was being a brat and her getting her way didn’t help anyone. Still, she reminded herself, none of this was her problem.

  After scanning the list one last time and assuring herself it was as complete as possible, she stood and took the clipboard to the nearest officer, a tall man with wide eyes and a bright smile. It was nice to see a cop smile. “I’m finished,” she said, refusing to think about Eric or get too caught up in trying to figure out Larry or Layla. Instead of giving in to those temptations, she asked herself whether she would prefer an aisle seat or a window for the flight home.

  Officer Sanchez, according to his name tag, took the clipboard. “Thank you,” he said with a slight Spanish accent. “Sergeant Mathews will be finished in a few minutes, I’m sure.” But he shot a concerned glance at the door to Mathews’s office. The voices were louder. Sadie couldn’t imagine yelling at a police officer like that and wondered why Eric would be so . . . courageous. That didn’t seem the right word. “Dumb” might be more appropriate.

  “Sergeant Mathews has my contact information. Can you just have him call me?”

  “Sorry,” Sanchez said. “He specifically asked that I have you stay.”

  Her stomach dropped but she wasn’t the type to argue with a police officer. Well, at least not today. Technically, she didn’t think they could make her stay unless she was under arrest, but she was trying hard to stay in Mathews’s good graces.

  She returned to her seat next to Layla. Larry came back with an orange soda and unscrewed the lid before handing it to Layla, who took the bottle without saying thank you. She took a rather dainty sip and began looking around the station again.

  “I should have asked if you wanted something too,” Larry said to Sadie. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  Sadie hated adding to his stress. “You’re very sweet,” she said. “But I’m fine, thanks.”

  Larry nodded, but still looked rather disappointed in himself. “The officer said I could go back to work and come in when I finish up tonight. I wish I could stay and help with Layla and everything.”

  “I don’t need help,” Layla said in her monotone voice. “Go away.”

  Sadie was embarrassed all over again. Why, of all people, did Larry bring out this side of her? “I’m sorry,” she said before realizing she didn’t even know what she was apologizing for.

  “It’s okay,” Larry said easily. “Will you tell Eric I came by and that I’ll catch him later?”

  Sadie didn’t want to relay anything to Eric, but she nodded anyway. Larry could use one less thing to worry about. “Sure,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Larry replied. “I’ll see you two later, then.”

  “No, you won’t,” Sadie said a little too quick and a little too loud. “I mean, I’ll be leaving as soon as I’m done here.” If she said it enough times, surely it would happen.

  “But you just got here this morning, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Sadie said, wondering how he knew that. Had Eric told Larry all about this woman he knew would be following him to Florida? “But I’m not staying.”

  Larry pulled his eyebrows together. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you
come?”

  “To bring something to Eric and assure myself he was okay,” Sadie said, trying to sound as though that had been her only goal all along. “But I’ve got to get back home now that those things are taken care of.” Sadie bit her tongue to keep from overexplaining herself.

  “Oh,” Larry said, obviously still confused. “Well, have a safe trip. It was nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” Sadie replied. He stood there for another moment, then glanced at Layla and although he seemed to consider saying something, he didn’t. Instead he nodded at Sadie one last time, and then headed for the door.

  Sadie watched him leave and tried to talk herself out of the burning curiosity in her gut. What was Larry’s story? And why was Layla, who didn’t seem to have many feelings at all, so angry with him?

  As the minutes stretched on, Sadie started tapping her foot and tried to keep from clenching her jaw; she hated waiting. She thought of the phone call she’d promised Gayle. She must be on pins and needles waiting to hear from Sadie—that is, assuming she and Pete weren’t playing tennis together.

  She shook the image from her mind. What was done was done and she needed to come to terms with that. Sadie pulled her phone from her purse. To her surprise, she’d missed a text message. To her even greater surprise it was from Eric. She furrowed her brow. How had he managed to send her a text while he was arguing with Mathews? Then she realized it had been sent over an hour ago: 11:06 to be exact. Sadie had looked at the dashboard clock during her deliberately detoured drive back to the police station at 11:32, which meant this text had been sent before Eric showed up at Layla’s house.

  Her heart rate increased immediately. She took a breath as she opened the message, glancing quickly at Layla to be sure she wasn’t reading it over her shoulder. Layla was engrossed in her magazine and paid no attention to Sadie.

  I promise 2 explain everthng as soon as I can. Plz don’t tell Mathews anthng else. I swore not 2 involve cops—Meg’s life might depend on it. Once I explain I think u will understand y.

  Sadie blinked. Megan’s life might depend on it?

  Just then muffled voices seemed to explode into the station, causing Sadie to jump as she quickly returned her phone to her purse. Eric backed out of the room, glaring at Mathews who was only a few feet away, coming toward him. “You’ll regret this, Mr. Burton,” Mathews said, and Sadie noticed a sheen of sweat on his bald head. “If I have to arrest you to keep you from making a bigger mess of this—”

  “If you could arrest me, you would have already.” Eric turned his head as though looking for someone and immediately focused on Sadie. She saw the tiniest bit of relief soften his expression and liked that her presence could give him a little comfort. Eric turned back to Sergeant Mathews. “When I have something to tell you, I will.”

  He immediately headed for Sadie, who stood up quickly. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her arm.

  Sadie couldn’t even come up with a protest before she was stumbling to fall in step with him. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Layla had stood up as well and was following behind them. She’d left the orange soda on the chair next to her, but still had the magazine in her hand. She was watching them but didn’t seem upset despite the intensity of the moment.

  “Mrs. Hoffmiller.”

  Sadie craned her head around at the sound of Sergeant Mathews’s voice. Eric didn’t stop, which annoyed her even further. Pulling her arm quickly so as to catch him off guard, she managed to escape from his grip. When Eric looked at her in surprise, she gave him a pointed look and turned back to Mathews, who continued speaking once he knew he had Sadie’s attention.

  “You said he didn’t tell you what was going on and there was good reason for that. He’s gotten himself in trouble, and if you go with him you’ll be putting yourself right beside him. I would strongly suggest you reconsider.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Sadie said evenly. “But I’m not going anywhere with him. I’m going to my car, which will then take me to the Miami airport.” If she were being totally honest she would admit, at least to herself, that Eric’s text message had eased her of some of her confusion, reminding her just how high the stakes were. “But thank you for your concern.”

  She could tell Mathews didn’t believe her; she sensed Eric didn’t either. Did she believe herself?

  Layla walked past her and when Mathews didn’t say anything else, Sadie turned toward the front door, aware that every cop in the room was watching her. Eric reached for her arm again, but she stepped out of his reach and gave him a look that made her point. He hung back a step and followed Layla out of the building. Sadie didn’t look back again, nor did she stop to put on her sunglasses when the Florida sunshine attempted to blind her. Instead she fumbled through her purse as she walked, nearly tripping over a crack in the pavement due to her inattentiveness and the distraction of such thick, heavy air. How did people get used to this humidity? Enough sweat had mixed with the moisture that she felt sticky all over.

  Layla headed for Sadie’s car and, after a moment, Sadie remembered that Eric had come to the police station in a police car and therefore had no way home either. Perfect.

  “I’ll give you a ride to Layla’s,” she said to Eric, who was a few steps behind her. “You have four blocks to attempt an explanation.”

  Eric nodded, looking penitent, and slid into the backseat of the rental car, allowing Layla to get in the front. Sadie buckled her seat belt and put the key in the ignition. “Four blocks,” she repeated as she shifted into drive. She caught sight of Sergeant Mathews standing just inside the glass door of the police station, watching them. She grimaced, certain he thought she’d lied to him about not going with Eric.

  Checking her blind spot, she pulled away from the curb as Eric moved to the middle of the backseat. He leaned forward between the front seats. She didn’t look at him, but was only too aware of how close he was.

  He took a deep breath and then let it out, seeming to signify the heaviness of what he had to say before he actually said it. “I think Megan’s alive.”

  Chapter 17

  Sadie wasn’t that surprised to hear him say it, even though she thought she probably should be. Megan had been missing for three years. She’d never contacted him, but would he be up to his eyeballs in trouble like this if not for the fact that he thought it would take him to his daughter? What other reason would make sense of his actions? Not that she was saying his actions made sense.

  “So where is she?” Sadie asked, keeping her voice even for fear that showing any emotion would somehow give up some of her control of the situation. Layla didn’t react at all; she simply looked out the windows, watching the businesses and homes pass by. Eric’s eyes were framed within the rearview mirror and he didn’t even glance at Layla, watching Sadie intently instead. She was uncomfortable with him staring at her and tried to avoid looking in the mirror.

  “I don’t know that part,” Eric said. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  “Why not tell the police?” Sadie asked calmly, though she was itching to hear the details.

  Eric shook his head but kept watching Sadie in the mirror. His eyes boring into her made her increasingly uncomfortable. “The information I have is from someone who wants nothing to do with the police.”

  “Maybe you should take that into consideration. If whoever gave you this information is some kind of criminal, then they can’t be trusted.”

  Eric looked away as Sadie made the final turn onto 4th Avenue. She couldn’t help but frown a little. Her home on Peregrine Circle was the best-kept of any of her neighbors, while the homes in Layla’s neighborhood sported untended flower gardens and more than a few yards had cars put up on blocks. The flat-roofed brick home across the street from Layla’s even had a floral-patterned couch on the front porch, complete with a portly man watching them while he sipped his soda.

  Sadie pulled to a stop in front of Layla’s house, but didn’t even shift the car into
park. The police had removed the fire can and all its contents, as well as taken numerous photos—basically they’d done all they could do. Other than cordoning off the patio, they’d deemed the house cleared and no longer a crime scene. Sadie suspected their efforts at clearing it quickly had to do with Layla and why everyone seemed to treat her with a little more care than seemed necessary.

  “Tia made chicken for sandwiches and a pasta salad for lunch,” Layla said, opening the door of the car and swinging her legs out. Her sandals crunched on the gravely road while Sadie wondered, again, who Tia was.

  “In a minute,” Eric said, almost dismissively.

  “It’s past lunchtime,” Layla said, surprising Sadie with the frustration in her tone—it was one of the few times there’d been any texture to what she said. “Tia made enough for everyone.”

  “Okay, Layla,” Eric said in a somewhat patronizing voice as though he was talking to a little girl and not his ex-wife. Nothing like how Larry had treated Layla. “I want to talk to Sadie for a few minutes, and then we’ll come in.”

  We’ll come in? Sadie didn’t like his assumption that she was staying. Layla didn’t look pleased either, and Sadie wondered if, in her own way, she was jealous. After another moment Layla shut the car door and went inside the house, pausing to pick up the cat sitting by the porch. She didn’t seem to give the splintered wood of the door frame a second look.

  Eric immediately leaned forward between the seats until Sadie didn’t have any choice but to look into his face.

  “I’m really sorry things happened this way,” Eric said. “I shouldn’t have presumed so much, and I swear I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  But he did presume and she was offended, although she didn’t like that word very much. Offense was rarely intentional, and often something the offended party came up with. And seeing as how she was the offended party, her own definition implied that she was choosing to be offended. And wasn’t it Sadie who’d looked through a box that she didn’t have permission to look through?