“Positive.” She pointed. “See? Those are the marks I made when I took the samples.”
“And you left it in the truck?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to take it into the house because it was so filthy.”
“Where are the samples, now?”
“In your kitchen,” she said, staring into the distance toward the main house. Her eyes widened. “Uh-oh. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably.” Michael slid into the driver’s seat while Layla ran to the passenger door. He shouted at Norberto. “Stay with this fire till you’re sure your house is safe. We’ll take care of the other one.”
Layla jumped in, slammed the door and braced herself with one hand against the dashboard. “The samples are still there. They have to be.”
“For all our sakes, I hope so,” Michael said.
She agreed. If they lost her initial samples it would slow their investigation, maybe even end it. Whatever residue might be left in the pan after being burned was seriously contaminated, if not totally destroyed.
“I should have brought them with me,” Layla said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.”
“You put out the fire and saved the barn,” Michael reasoned. “That’s a point in your favor. Don’t borrow trouble before we see for ourselves, okay?”
“Okay.”
She knew she should heed his advice but her body refused to listen. Her heart was hammering so hard she was sure it would burst and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Please, God,” she whispered. “Please protect the evidence.”
Please, please, please, echoed in her pounding head like a familiar tune that refuses to go away no matter how hard a person tries to silence it.
Layla quit struggling and let the simplistic prayer flow as it would. She was beyond reasonable thought. Beyond logic. All that mattered at that moment was getting her hands on those samples and making sure they were safe.
She was out of the truck and running before Michael got it fully stopped.
The kitchen door stood ajar. She screeched, “No!” as she skidded around the corner and faced the sink. Her carefully labeled specimen bottles had disappeared.
Michael came up behind her. “Are we too late?”
Layla’s shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry. I should have taken them with me. I never dreamed they wouldn’t be safe in here.”
“Looks like nothing around here is safe,” Michael said gruffly. “Including us. Do you know how to handle a gun?”
“No. And I don’t want to learn. I don’t believe in resorting to violence. Guns kill.”
“They also protect,” he said. “I’m not going to insist, but I would like you to be familiar with firearms. You’re a lot better off knowing what not to do than you are if you stay ignorant. Think of it as a lesson in personal safety.”
Pulling away, Layla walked slowly, pensively, toward the sink where her samples had lain. “I’d much rather rely on Smokey’s teeth,” she said. “I know he won’t make a mistake and bite one of the good guys.”
“That’s probably true.” Michael joined her, turned her to look at him. “Unless the bad guys go after him first. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Smokey.”
Layla scowled and searched his solemn expression. Clearly, he was being earnest. He really did think something might happen to her best four-legged friend.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll let you teach me. But don’t expect Annie Oakley.”
“Good. I knew I could count on you.”
She huffed in disgust. “I wish that were true. I really let you down when I lost our proof.”
Her gaze settled on the contents of the sink. There, in the bottom, lay the scalpel she’d used to obtain her original scrapings. She’d meant to return and properly dispose of the dirty blade but the fire at the barn had distracted her.
Carefully, cautiously, she lifted the scalpel and held it up to the light. There wasn’t much residue on the blade but it might be enough, especially since they knew what to test for.
“Bring me one of those clean vials from my bag!” Layla shouted, grinning, “and chalk one up for the good guys. Looks like we’ve got our answer right here.”
Layla sent the sample to a lab in Denver. The results didn’t have to be back to convince her she’d made an accurate diagnosis. Just the same, she wanted official confirmation and was relieved when it came.
She and Michael had checked all the other feeders and found nothing amiss. To be on the safe side, she’d recommended that he order fresh grain delivered until his stored feed could be double-checked.
Every time she surveyed the surviving cattle she held her breath. Fortunately, nothing else had gone wrong. As the days passed uneventfully, she began to relax.
Holly found her in the barn with Winona and Wilbur when she dropped in later in the week. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Holly said. “Guess I should have known where you’d be.”
“Any place but cooped up in the house,” Layla replied. “What brings you out this far?”
Holly laughed. “I could say I was just passing by but that’s silly. I came to see you.” She held out a stiff, white envelope. “Here.”
“What is it?” Layla was dusting off her hands.
“Open it and see.”
The younger woman’s sly expression put Layla on guard. “Why do I get the idea I shouldn’t?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Holly’s eyes were twinkling. “Go on. Open it. It won’t bite you.”
“I’m not so sure.” Slowly, deliberately, Layla slipped the engraved card out of the linen-weave envelope and began to read. She was halfway through when she started to shake her head. “Oh, no. Not me. Forget it.”
“Don’t be a chicken. I’d love to find out I had a secret admirer who was willing to spring for my ticket to a fancy dinner at the Broadmoor.”
Layla frowned. “You didn’t send this?”
“Hey, not me. I’m just the messenger.” She winked. “I guess somebody is trying to talk you into being his valentine.”
“No way.” Layla thrust the card at her. “I haven’t been in town long enough to impress any man this much.”
“Maybe one,” Holly said with a knowing smirk.
Eyes wide, Layla stared. “No. Not Michael. If he wanted to take me to dinner he’d just ask.”
“Would he? I don’t know about that. I told you how Tammy broke his heart. Maybe he’s playing it safe.”
Picturing the luxurious Broadmoor Hotel, Layla continued to resist. “It’s ridiculous. Look at me. Do you think I have any clothes suitable for a party like this?”
“That’s easy. I do. You can borrow a dress from me.”
Layla eyed her up and down. “From you? Thanks, but no thanks. We don’t shop at the same kinds of stores.”
“So?”
“So, even if you did have a dress that fit me sizewise, which I doubt, it wouldn’t suit my style. Besides, I’d feel naked without my jewelry.” She fingered one of the silver earrings dangling from her lobes.
“Silver and black go beautifully together,” Holly said.
“Black? Ugh. I’d feel like I was going to a funeral.” Layla huffed. “My own.”
“One night? What can it hurt? Haven’t you ever wanted to see the inside of the Broadmoor?”
“Well, sure, but—”
“Then it’s settled. The dinner isn’t until the evening of the fourteenth so we have plenty of time. Would you like to come to my place and try on clothes or shall I bring a few things out here?”
“I never said I’d go.”
“You’ll go. I can tell you want to. All you need is a little push.”
Making a cynical face, Layla sighed. “A little push? I feel like I’ve just been run over by a bulldozer!”
Michael open his mail to find a similar invitation. He tossed it aside without even considering attending until his mother phoned.
“Did you
pick up your mail today?” Marilyn asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. I thought you might have received an invitation to the Valentine’s gala.”
“I guess I did.”
“So, I’ll see you there?”
“Not hardly. I don’t have time for parties. There’s too much to do here.”
“You’re working 24/7? You don’t fool me, Michael Vance. You’re still hiding. It’s time you got back into the mainstream. Started living again.”
“I’m doing fine as I am, Mom. I don’t need any help from you.”
“Me? What makes you think I sent you the invitation?”
“Didn’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, no,” Marilyn said. “I was hoping you’d come to show support for your uncle Max and aunt Lidia. You know how they always participated in Colorado Springs events. This year, I know all your cousins are planning to attend, even if poor Lidia doesn’t.”
“It means that much to you?”
“Yes,” his mother answered soberly. “It means that much to me.”
Michael muttered under his breath before he said, “Okay. I’ll go. Just don’t expect me to stay long.”
“Of course not. We wouldn’t want anybody to think you were actually enjoying yourself. I can have your father’s old tuxedo cleaned and pressed if you want to borrow it.”
“Don’t push it, Mom. You know how I feel about all that formal posturing. You’re lucky I’m going at all, okay?”
“Okay, okay. Forget I suggested it. Love you. Bye.”
Michael stared at the receiver as he replaced it. The discarded invitation lay under a pile of papers on his desk. He dug it out. Handling it as if it were fragile—or dangerous—he pulled the card all the way out of the envelope.
There was no indication of who had mailed it. He flipped over the envelope to check for a return address. There was none. However, the invitation had been postmarked in Cripple Creek, not Colorado Springs.
How odd. Puzzled, he stared at the elegant script that spelled out the date and time of the Valentine’s Day dinner party. The last time he’d been to the Broadmoor, he’d taken Tammy there to wow her before proposing marriage. He had no desire to be reminded of that night any more than he was looking forward to getting all slicked up to impress a bunch of city folks.
Oh, well. What was done was done. He’d promised. He’d go. At least he’d get a decent meal out of it. The fare Layla had been turning out was so healthy and so devoid of meat he was nearly ready to drive into town just to taste a real burger. Compared to Imelda, the poor woman couldn’t cook for beans.
That colloquialism made him chuckle. Vegetables were a big part of the problem. Beans, Layla cooked just fine. If he never saw another one it would be too soon.
February fourteenth arrived way too quickly to suit Layla. She and Holly had decided she’d wear a plain black dress with an uneven hem, the most bohemian item in Holly’s closet. Since Holly was a couple of inches taller than Layla, the dress fell nearly to the floor. That helped Layla accept its sheer, if drab, drape. Her only complaint was that it wasn’t quite long enough to hide her comfortable shoes.
She finally settled on silver sandals she usually wore only in summer. Her toes were freezing but at least she felt she looked halfway presentable. Lacking a dressy coat she donned her down-filled vest and climbed into her truck for the drive down to the Broadmoor. Once she arrived, she could always slip off the vest and leave it in the truck while she made a dash for the door.
Except for a brief incident with a reckless driver, the entire trip was over before she knew it because she’d been so caught up in retrospection.
How had she let herself be talked into doing this? She didn’t belong at the Broadmoor any more than she belonged in the world of the people who frequented it. Her parents had opted out of society by choice. She agreed with their decision. Pretentiousness was to be pitied, not envied.
Rosy lighting of its impressive exterior made the Broadmoor glow like a pink diamond against the starlit sky. As she pulled to a stop under the arched portico she noticed the scrolled letter B embedded in mosaic in front of the double doors. It was almost too beautiful to drive over.
A doorman greeted her and a uniformed valet hopped into her truck as soon as she slid from behind the wheel. To her relief and delight, neither man acted as if a pastel-mottled pickup truck was unusual or less than acceptable. When the valet handed her a claim check, she tipped him, hoping she hadn’t offered too much or too little. Life on this side of the tracks was a lot more confusing than the simple ways she’d grown up with.
The smiling valet was driving away when she realized she’d forgotten to remove her casual vest. Well, phooey. If the snobs inside didn’t like her as she really was, tough.
Squaring her shoulders and tossing her head to throw back her loose curls and display her glittering, dangling earrings and the studs above them, she marched proudly into the lobby.
Michael Vance was standing near the door to the Broadmoor’s largest dining room, Charles Court, talking to a few members of his extended family. When he spied Layla he choked on his ginger ale.
Adam Montgomery clapped him on the back. “I hope you don’t need a doctor. This is my night off.”
Adam’s wife, Kate, was at his side. “Don’t worry, honey. Robert Fletcher’s here. We can have him or one of the other doctors here Heimlich your brother-in-law if he needs medical attention.”
“Very funny.” Michael stared at the beautiful blond vision poised in the middle of the foyer. Layla appeared frozen to the spot, like a deer mesmerized in the glare of oncoming headlights.
“Who’s that?” Adam asked. “She looks lost.”
“That’s Layla Dixon, my new vet,” Michael said. “No wisecracks, okay? She really is good with animals. She said she already had plans when I asked her to help Norberto and Hector keep an eye on the ranch tonight, but I never dreamed she was coming here.”
“Apparently, she was. Aren’t you going to go rescue the poor thing?” Kate asked.
Michael scanned the crowd. Spotting neither his mother nor his sister, he sighed. “Guess I should. Except for Mom, Holly and me, Layla doesn’t know a soul. I’ll go start introducing her before she bolts. Right now, she reminds me of a prairie dog, caught out in the open and being circled by a hungry hawk.”
He started away, then turned. “You’d better make a run for it, too. Here comes Owen Frost. And Yvette Duncan’s hot on his trail. Between the deputy mayor and our esteemed councilwoman, that’s way too much local politics for me.”
Michael left Adam, Kate and several others chuckling behind him as he strode quickly forward to welcome Layla and offer moral support.
The minute Layla spied Michael she was flooded with intense relief. She hadn’t wanted to ask her boss if he was planning to attend this party because she didn’t want him to think she was making a play for him or hinting she needed a ride. Even if, as Holly had suggested, Michael was her secret admirer, she didn’t want to put him on the spot. Seeing him here, however, made her so happy she couldn’t stifle her silly grin.
She extended her hand as he neared. “Hello. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I could say the same.” Michael gently, briefly, grasped her fingers. His touch was less the handshake of two colleagues than it was the easy greeting of friends who admired each other. “I got drafted by my family. What brings you to the Broadmoor?”
“An anonymous invitation,” Layla said. She stared into his dark eyes, hoping to read the truth when she asked, “Do you have any idea who might have sent it?”
“Oh, yes,” he said with a smirk. “I have a very good idea where both our invitations came from. Looks like I need to have a long, serious talk with my mother.”
“Marilyn? Why her? It was Holly who brought me mine.”
“A-ha! The plot thickens.”
Layla was glad to see him smiling in spite of their revealing conversation. “
We’ve been had?”
“Sure looks like it.”
“I see. What are we going to do about it?”
“That’s up to you,” Michael said. “Personally, I’d like to strangle them both but I imagine Holly’s husband, Jake, would object. See those people over by the door? The good-looking guy with light hair is Jake. I’m seriously outnumbered by his relatives and colleagues at the FBI.”
Layla nodded, then reached for his arm and slipped her hand inside the crook of his elbow. “Then I suggest we give them what they paid for.”
“An excellent idea, ma’am. Unless you’re cold, let’s check your coat. Then I’ll parade you around and introduce you to the gang. They’re quite a bunch. Between the Vance and Montgomery families, I’m related to dozens of these characters.” He quirked a lopsided grin. “Most of them, I’m even willing to claim.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He escorted her to the coat check and helped her off with the vest. Though she still felt out of place, Michael’s company was quickly banishing her jitters.
“That’s an unusual dress,” he said. “Is it new?”
“To me, it is.” Layla straightened her necklaces and shook her tinkling bracelets to position them optimally. “I borrowed it from your sister. She insisted. At least this way my bright clothes won’t embarrass you.”
“Embarrass me? Not hardly. If you’ll notice, I’m just about the only guy who isn’t wearing a tux.”
Layla wasn’t about to admit she’d noticed immediately. The cut of Michael’s dark Western suit set off his athletic build beautifully. So did his cowboy boots. There wasn’t a more handsome man in the entire room. Maybe in all of Colorado. That thought made her blush. She lowered her head to hide the reaction.
“We can start by joining Jake and looking for Holly, if you want,” Michael suggested. “You probably won’t remember everybody’s name but I’ll be around to cue you if need be.”
“Thanks. I’d have better luck if they were animals. I never forget a dog or a cat.”
“Or a cow?”
“That, too,” Layla said, smiling up at him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t available for extra duty tonight.”
The Danger Within Page 6