Jealousy by Nancy Bush

Author:Nancy Bush
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Layla was waiting for her right outside his office door. She practically grabbed Lucy by the elbow and steered her through his outer offices, down the elevator, and out the front door to where they were standing on Third Street in downtown Portland under gray skies. Traffic moved sluggishly, tires humming against streets that shimmered with rainwater.

“He didn’t know me,” Lucy said, turning her collar against the drizzle. “I don’t think it was an act.”

“What did he say about John’s death?”

“He’s going to be there the next time the police interview me, and they will interview me. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s been a nightmare since John died. I feel like I’m walking in a fun house. I’m making bad decisions.”

“Dallas Denton is a good decision. He’s one of the best criminal attorneys around.”

“Criminal attorneys . . .” She half-laughed, half-hiccupped, shook her head. “How did we get here?”

“Somebody poisoned John,” Layla said, answering her literally.

“Maybe it was an accident. I don’t see how . . .” Lucy drew a deep breath and pulled herself together. She’d had enough of falling apart and forced her attention away from herself and her problems for the moment and onto her sister’s emotional situation. Her mother was right. Layla needed to be taken in hand. Lucy gazed at her sister hard. “Whatever happens, you aren’t marrying Neil. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with him, but you know better. Something’s nuts there.”

“Yeah, I know. I gotta figure it out. But right now, this is about you.”

“It’s not just about me,” she argued. “You need to seriously get your head on straight. And I know you want your baby. I want you to have your baby. But marrying Neil . . . ? That isn’t in the cards.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Bad things happen when you make bad decisions, Layla. Really bad things.”

“I’m not going to talk about this now.” She flipped the hood of her jacket over her head as the drizzle turned to rain. “I’ve got to go help Mary Jo restage a house.”

“Are you kidding?”

“It’s no big deal. I’m cutting back at the bistro and concentrating on staging and my art. I’m okay, Luce.”

Are you? Lucy silently asked, and, as if hearing her, Layla sketched a good-bye—or maybe she was just warding her off—and headed up the street. “You want a ride?” she called after her.

“No, I’ll Uber it,” she yelled over her shoulder and sidestepped a woman walking a tiny terrier wearing a raincoat.

Well, fine. Lucy headed to her car and drove to Crissman’s, walking up the stairs to her office rather than taking the elevator, the exercise mostly to get her tired brain to think. When she made it to her desk, she realized there was no one else in the offices. Miranda’s office was locked up tight. Lucy had been in and out a couple of times since John’s death, but she

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