In the Shadow of Evil (31 page)

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 Maddox'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.

She jerked back, pressing her fingers to her mouth. Layla blinked several times. Without another word, she turned and sped up the stairs to her house.

He couldn't breathe. She'd stolen the air right from his lungs. He could only stare after her as she unlocked the door and pushed inside.

If Maddox had ever had any doubt that he was falling for her, that one kiss had cleared it up for him.

He'd never felt this way about any woman. Never
let
himself feel like this. But somehow, some way, she'd slipped past every one of his defense mechanisms.

Layla Taylor had him—hook, line, and sinker.

He was a goner.

THIRTY

"Faced with what is right, to leave it undone shows a lack of courage."

—CONFUCIUS

STUPID. JUST PLAIN STUPID.

How could she have kissed him?

Layla shuddered. She had no business kissing Maddox, or any man. Wasn't her life complicated enough right now without adding in the mess of a romantic entanglement? If only the kiss hadn't been so mind-numbing. Hadn't felt so . . . right.

And seeing Randy tonight, why had she ever thought she was in love with him? He'd made her feel less like a woman. Unlike Maddox. He made her feel safe. And very,
very
feminine.

No, she wouldn't consider the ramifications right now. Not while her knees still felt as gooey as the edges of the bayou.

She rushed inside, her hands trembling so bad she'd had to try to get the key in the lock four times before she'd got it right. Everything in her felt jumbled. Disjointed.

All because of one kiss.

But, wow, what a kiss!

She groaned and stormed to the kitchen. She yanked up the cordless and accessed her voice mail. Two messages from Alana. Cameron was stable and the doctors at the Baton Rouge hospital gave a more hopeful prognosis. The police had picked up the phone, and Alana asked about Mom.

Layla deleted the messages and moved to put on a pot of coffee. Anything to keep busy, or at least appear so, when Maddox entered. She'd pushed the door almost closed when she entered, but he hadn't followed yet.

Was he regretting kissing her? Why did he kiss her? They were arguing about Randy and her not staying in the car, then the next thing she knew, she was in his arms.

And she'd never felt so comfortable in a man's embrace.

She let out a moan and bent, resting her elbows on the counter and shoving her forehead against her palms. What was she doing?
God, I'm so confused. A little help, please?

The coffeemaker let out a shot of steam, then clicked to percolating. Another car sounded in her drive. Houston.

What would Maddox tell his partner? Things would definitely be odd between Maddox and her. Houston would notice. Would he say something? How would she answer?

She straightened. What if the kiss meant nothing to Maddox? What if he didn't bother mentioning it to Houston because it was no big deal to him? Was she making something out of nothing?

Kissing wasn't something she just went around doing. She didn't even kiss on a first date. Yet here she was, kissing Maddox in her front yard never having been on a date with him. Not really knowing him.

She was so messed up. Maybe she should forego the coffee and head straight to bed.

The door creaked as it opened, and Houston stepped inside. "Hey, Layla."

Turning, she pasted on a plastic smile. "Hi. I'm making coffee."

He slumped into a kitchen chair. "I need it." He stuck a piece of gum into his mouth.

Maddox hovered by the back door facing the bayou, his back to her. Good, because the heat already burned her face. If he looked at her, she'd turn beet red from embarrassment.

"Listen, I want to run something by you. See if you have any ideas." Houston motioned her to join him at the table.

She glanced at Maddox's straight back, then moved to sit across from Houston. "I'll try. Whatcha got?"

"The CDC specialist has diagnosed the mystery illnesses as sulfur poisoning."

What?

"He also believes the source of the contaminant is the church."

This was unbelieva—

"But since we can't get in there now to see, we were wondering if maybe you could think of anything that could cause sulfur poisoning. You oversaw the renovations just months ago, so maybe you can think of something."

Way out of her league. She wasn't a chemist or a scientist, just a contractor. She wouldn't kno—

"Anything at all. Even if it's out in left field."

"Hang on. Let me think for a minute."

The smell of rotten eggs. The corroded copper pipes and tubings. Something was there, something she knew, just outside the edges of her memory.

Maddox turned, facing her. He hovered over her, his expression unreadable. "Layla, if you know something, now's the time to tell—"

"Shh. I'm thinking. Give me a second to work it out."

Stink. Corrosion.
Think.
What was it? She knew something about this. She'd read an article— "The article." She jumped up, nearly knocking over the kitchen chair. "Hang on."

She raced to her desk in her bedroom and tugged on the bottom drawer where she kept all her back issues of magazines. Which one? She flipped through the indexes, scanning for the article.

"What are you doing?"

She started, then frowned at Maddox. "If I can just find the stupid article, I think I can figure it out."

"Article about what?" He moved to stand behind her. Where she could detect a hint of his cologne under the smoke stench of the fire.

Her heart raced into overdrive as soon as he'd entered her bedroom. Now, with his proximity and the smell of him so near, she couldn't concentrate. She took a step back, holding up a magazine like a shield. "Could you give me some space, please? I can't think with you hovering over me."

Maddox held up his hands and took a couple of steps backward. "Fine. Trust me, I got your message to back up loud and clear."

Was he talking about now or before . . . after their kiss?

No, she couldn't think about that right now. She had to find the article. She returned to scanning the indexes. Not this issue. She scanned the next. Not this one either. The third. No. The fourth. No.

"Can I help you?"

Layla shot him a look. "Yeah, go back into the kitchen. You're still too close to me. I can't think when you're around."

His eyes widened for a moment, then the edges of his mouth lifted. "Okay." He turned and strode from the room.

Good riddance. The man was sapping every strand of sanity from her.

SO SHE COULDN'T THINK when he was around. Was that good or bad?

Maddox was going to run with it being good, which made him feel a lot better.

When she'd pushed him away and run inside, he felt as if something inside of him had died. All sorts of thoughts had slammed him. Did she wish it was Dean kissing her? Did he repulse her? Was she disgusted by his kiss?

But if she couldn't think when he was around, maybe that meant she was as attracted to him as he was to her.

Maddox raked a kitchen chair across the floor and plopped down. Not used to questioning where he stood with a woman, he stared across the table at Houston. "She's searching for some article."