In the Shadow of Evil (23 page)

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Layla buried her head under the pillow. It could
not
be time to get up yet.

Bam! Bam!

"Layla!"

That was no alarm clock. She bolted from her bed. Her feet got tangled in the sheet and she fell. Her recently scabbed-over knees took the brunt of her weight. Pain made her cry out. Loudly.

"Layla, are you okay?"

She growled under her breath and grabbed the side of the bed, pulling herself upright. Great, the scabs were bleeding under her flannel pajama bottoms. She hobbled down the hall.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Layla!"

She jerked open the door. "What?" Her breath caught in her lungs.

Maddox stood on her porch. In jeans and a sweater, he looked like a vision straight from her dreams. His bluer-than-blue eyes glistened under the motion detector lights. His face boasted a five o'clock shadow on its strong lines. The total package of Maddox Bishop tied her stomach into knots. Tight knots.

"Are you okay? I heard a thump." His lids were at half mast.

Her heart skidded to a stop. She must look like a swamp witch or something. She smoothed down her oversized pajama top. "Uh, yeah." And then the oddness of it all smacked her. "What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "Four."

The sleep and fuzziness evaporated as adrenaline surged through her. Even her knees stopped hurting. "What's wrong?" Her office again?

"First off, you need to know that Alana's okay."

She sagged against the door frame. "What happened?"

He hesitated, then wrapped an arm around her waist and stepped over the threshold with her. He pushed the door closed with his foot, then led her to the couch and sat her down. He sat beside her, keeping his arm around her. "It's Second Chances."

She was going to be sick. "W-What?"

"Best they can figure out at this point, there was a bomb in the main building."

"A bomb?"
Oh, dear Lord
. . . "Alana?"

"Is fine. She's at the hospital getting treated for minor cuts and smoke inhalation."

A bomb. Second Chances. Her childhood home. Tears burned her eyes. "The retreat?"

White circled his lips. "The main building's pretty much gone."

She couldn't have stopped the tears from falling if she'd wanted to. All the memories . . . Alana and her growing up . . . Daddy. She buried her face in her hands.

Maddox pulled her to him, holding her. Warmth seeped from him deep into her. Soul-deep her daddy would've said.

Layla let the sobs have their way, then sniffed and pushed away from Maddox. "I need to go see Alana. She'll be beside herself."

He tightened his hold on her. "Layla, there's something else."

Oh, God, give me strength.
"What?"

"Alana's fiancé was closer to the blast than anyone. He received some severe burns."

"Cameron?"
Sweet Jesus, help him. Help Alana. Help us all.

"It's pretty bad." Maddox's expression was graver than she'd ever imagined.

She took a moment to register the information. Then eased out of Maddox's hold. "I'll get dressed. I need to be there for Alana. And Cameron."

He nodded. "I'll drive you."

Layla stumbled down the hall to her bedroom. She threw on the first thing she grabbed from her drawer—a pair of sweats. She brushed her teeth and hair, then slipped her feet into tennis shoes. In less than ten minutes, she returned to her living room to find Maddox waiting on her couch. "I'm ready."

He stood and took her elbow. While she didn't need someone guiding her, it sure was nice and comforting to feel his hold on her. He opened the passenger door of a cobalt blue Mustang for her.

She waited until he'd started the engine to speak. "This doesn't look like a sheriff's department–issued vehicle." Talk about anything to stop worrying. About Alana. About Cameron. Mourning the loss of her childhood home of memories.

"It's my personal car." Maddox whipped the car out of the driveway and onto the road. He punched the gas, flying toward Lake Charles.

Back pressed into the seat, she could see how the car fit the man. Even the color . . . it made his eyes seem that much bluer.

She glanced out the window and noticed an orangish glow to the predawn sky. "Is that . . . ?"
Oh, Lord, please watch over Cameron and Alana.

His gaze followed hers. "Yeah." He punched the gas harder. "Look, the housing parts of the retreat were barely damaged."

She gave a grunt. "That you can see." But as a contractor, she knew what the damage could be. Had seen way too many times people thinking they had minor damage, only to learn they had to do some heavy repairs. Heavy and pricey.

"Was anybody else hurt?"

"As far as we can tell, everyone else was like Alana—minor cuts and smoke inhalation."

"Except for Cameron."

"Yes." His jawline was firm as he concentrated on the road.

Thank You, Jesus, that no one else was badly injured. God, please put Your hand of healing over Cameron.
If something happened to him, there was no telling how Alana would fall apart.

Layla had to be strong. For Alana. For Cameron. For everybody at Second Chances. She already sensed the suffocating pressure of responsibility cloaking her shoulders.

Maddox laid his hand over hers. "Layla, I know you've got to be scared and upset, that's only natural. If you need to talk, I'm here."

The gentleness of his tone almost made her cry again. But she couldn't afford to be weak and break down. Alana would be a mess. Layla had to be tough. Then again, she'd always had to. It was her lot in life. Nothing would change.

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

"Okay." He patted her hand, then gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

She watched him from the corner of her eye. What an enigma. Relentless and intimidating cop, yet sweet and sensitive when it came to his father—and with her this morning in the midst of a personal tragedy.

He slowed down as they ascended the I-210 bridge. His lips pinched closed. She could barely make out the sweat beads on his upper lip under the streetlights of the high bridge. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel.

What was making him so nervous? She glanced out the window, looking out across the west fork of the Calcasieu River. Nothing seemed amiss, save the bright orange behind them. The remains of what had once been a building very near and dear to her heart.

Layla denied the tears as Maddox topped the curve at the apex of the bridge. He kept his speed under the limit as they descended. When they reached level road, he gunned the engine and they sped off the exit.

Maybe she was just imagining things. Wouldn't be surprised—so much had hit her so quickly.
God, what am I supposed to do?

Only the hum of Maddox's Mustang as he spun into the hospital parking lot answered her.

He kept his hand on the small of her back as they entered. They checked the packed emergency room waiting area but didn't find Alana. So many people she recognized from Second Chances. Some had bandages on them, some cried, and some paced. It was standing room only.

Maddox flashed his badge at the triage nurse. "Alana Taylor?"

The nurse checked the computer, then pointed down the hallway. "Exam room 2."

Maddox guided her down the corridor amid all the hustling of doctors and nurses. It was nice to have him there to handle issues. She was pretty certain she'd never have gotten this far without him and his badge.

He stopped outside the room with a big number 2 plastered on the outside. "Would you like me to wait here?"

She didn't know. Without answering, she pushed open the door to find Alana sitting on the examining bed, crying. Two large bandages were on her face—the biggest on her forehead and a smaller one on her right cheek.

She looked up as they entered, her tear-streaked face reminding Layla of when they were little and Alana would get hurt. "Oh, Layla." Alana held out her arms.

Layla crawled up on the bed beside Alana and gathered her younger sister in her arms. She rocked her, petting her hair and making shushing noises. "It's going to be okay."

"C-Cameron," Alana wailed. "They won't tell me anything."

Layla turned her head and made eye contact with Maddox. She silently pleaded with him to use his police magic again and get an update on Cameron. He nodded, then left the room.

"Shh. We'll find out. It'll be okay."

Alana clung to her, sobbing for all she was worth. It nearly ripped Layla's heart from her chest. She held her sister tighter, trying to provide as much comfort as she could.

Finally Alana's sobs lessened to sniffles. Layla released her and studied her sister's face. "How bad is yours?"

"Stitches where glass got me. Nothing serious. Not like Cameron." Her eyes filled with tears again.

Layla took Alana's hand and squeezed. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it."

"The house. It's gone." Tears streamed down Alana's cheeks.

Swallowing, Layla forced her own pain from her expression. "It was just a building. It can be replaced." She smoothed back Alana's bangs and pasted on a smile. "I happen to know a really good contractor who can build a new one."

Even though it wouldn't be the same. Not ever again.

TWENTY-TWO

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

—ELEANOR ROOSEVELT

ONCE AGAIN HE WAS cast into the character of the bearer of bad news. And he didn't like it one bit.

Maddox dragged his feet down the emergency room hall as he headed back to Layla and Alana, having gotten the report on Cameron Stone. It wasn't good. The young software designer might not live to see tomorrow. The doctors weren't hopeful.

He hesitated outside the exam room, sucking in air and strength. The stench of disinfectant wasn't as strong as before. Or maybe his senses were adjusting to the smell. He tapped on the door left ajar.

"Come in." Layla's voice sounded strong. Good, because what he'd tell them would crush Alana.

He inched into the room and shut the door behind him.

Hope flickered in Layla's eyes. He hated to let her down.

"Well?"

He moved to the edge of the bed, standing before the Taylor sisters. He felt like the Grim Reaper. "They were able to stabilize Cameron enough to take him up to ICU."

"Praise God," Alana whispered. "At least they were able to stabilize him. That's good news."

Praise God? The man probably wouldn't live throughout the day, and she praised the God who had allowed this to happen? She was in shock, had to be.

"It's not good, Alana. He's got severe burns over 30 percent of his body. His organs have sustained a lot of trauma." Good thing he'd memorized what the doctor had said.

She gasped and trembled.

Layla wrapped an arm around her sister and pulled her close. She squared her shoulders. "What else?"

He let out a quiet breath, wishing they'd go find the doctor and talk to him themselves. "They'll be able to tell you more once he's settled and evaluated in the ICU."

Alana jumped off the bed. "Let's go."

Layla grabbed her arm. "Whoa there. Have you been released?"

"I was never admitted. They just gave me oxygen and stitched me up." Alana jerked her arm free of Layla's grasp. "I need to be with Cameron. He needs me." Her eyes glistened as they filled with tears.

Slipping to her feet, Layla looked at Maddox. "We're going up to ICU. Could you please make sure the nurses know where Alana is in the event they need her?"

Normally he'd balk at being an errand boy, but this was an emergency.

And it was Layla.

He ignored
that
implication. "Sure."

She smiled and his heart stalled. "Thanks." She followed her sister from the examining room, heading toward the elevators.

Maddox relayed information to the busy nurses' station, then moved to follow the sisters. His cell phone vibrated on his hip. He snatched it open. "Hello."

"Hey, partner. How's it going there?"

"It's crazy here. Lots of people everywhere." Maddox ducked out the ER entrance for a little privacy. And some quiet. Dawn crested, but the air still carried a cold edge.

"And Alana?"

"She's fine. Just went to find out about her fiancé. Doctors have admitted him into ICU, but his prognosis isn't good." He moved out of the walkway into the parking lot. "What's the story there?"

"Fire investigator confirmed it was a bomb. The forensics team has it, trying to trace the compounds back to its maker."

"What else?"

"Initial thought is we're dealing with an amateur. Investigator said it's a rough unit, shoddily made. Probably put together on the fly."

"That's so helpful." He glanced up as the med-helicopter took off—someone else who might not make it through the night.

"They're cross-checking the method, means, and compounds with known bomb makers to see if they get a match."

"How long will that take?" People went in and out of the emergency room entrance like ants to a picnic.

"Said a day or so. I asked them to rush whatever they could."

Cars started. Engines revved. "That's something."

"I'm about to head from the scene. Thought I'd run by and interview Denny Keys, the electrician. Want me to swing by and pick you up?"

It was his job . . . but it was Layla. "Nah, I have my car here. And Layla doesn't have a ride. I'll stick around here for a few. See what I can learn. Call me when you finish up, and I'll meet you at the station."

"Sounds like a plan."

Maddox shoved his phone back into its clip, then rushed into the hospital. The chill followed him as he waited for the elevators.

None of this made sense. He could understand burning the Hope-for-Homes site—it destroyed evidence of the murder. But why was LeJeune murdered in the first place? Then the break-in at Taylor Construction? And just when he'd begun to think the connection wasn't Second Chances, there's a bomb?

He stepped onto the floor housing ICU and almost passed the waiting room, but he caught a glimpse of Layla and Alana with their elderly friend Betty Page and several others. He paused in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on what had to be a very private moment.