In the Shadow of Evil

by Robin Caroll

  Maddox shook his head. "What about the plumber?" He still had a bad feeling about Bob Johnson.

  Megan cut her eyes at him, then typed on the keyboard again. "Five of them used Bob Johnson. One used a Milt Anderson from . . . Arkansas?"

  Houston scribbled in his notebook. "Five of the six, and the sixth used an out-of-stater?"

  "What about the carpenters?" Maddox asked Megan.

  Once again her fingers tapped. "Three used J. B. Carpentry. The other three used John and Sons Carpenters."

  Houston nodded as he wrote. "And the supplier?"

  "Just a minute." She typed, clicked the mouse, then typed again. "Y Building Supplies."

  Houston poised his pen over the notebook. "On how many?"

  Megan leaned back in her chair. "All of them."

  THIRTY-THREE

  "To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage."

  —LAO TZU

  THE MIST DRIFTED DOWN, coating Eternal Springs in a wet sheen.

  Layla jumped from her truck onto the mushy ground of the construction site. The new high-rise apartments. She'd put a bid on the job, but the developer had gone with another contractor. A shame . . . this was a prime gig.

  "Hey, Layla. Up here."

  She glanced heavenward. Ed stood on a beam and waved. "Come on up. I want to show you something. I'm sending down the car."

  "Okay." It'd been a long time since she'd been on the site of such a tall building. Always gave her a rush to stand high and look down at the building being constructed from the ground up.

  Ducking, she crossed what would one day be the apartment clubhouse and headed toward the makeshift elevator. The car eased to the bottom with a squeak. She lifted the guard, stepped inside, shut the guard, and selected the top as her destination. A jerk made her grab hold of the side, then a smooth ascent.

  The climb to the top of the building was slow, but Layla enjoyed seeing the construction. They'd made good progress despite the weather. Looked like they'd hit their projected completion date and be ready to open in late spring.

  Higher up, the mist appeared as a foggy cloud. Heavy and dense. Almost like it was sitting right over Eternal Springs. Odd, yet beautiful. Very peaceful.

  Maybe that's why she'd always loved to visit the tall construction sites on a Saturday. Most were quiet. She could be alone with her thoughts. She could see out farther and appreciate God's handiwork in nature.

  The car vibrated to a stop on what would one day soon be the penthouse floor. Layla lifted the guard and stepped carefully onto the walking platform. She stood still for a moment, allowing her equilibrium to set before she moved.

  "Over here." Ed stood in the corner area.

  Was he crazy? He was a supplier, not at all used to being on a site. Especially one that had such potential for accidents. It was dangerous for him, and he should know better.

  Layla picked her steps toward him. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be up here. Especially alone."

  "I had to check this. The contractor says it's not working, but I think they installed it incorrectly. Will you come have a look?"

  "Yeah." Still didn't make sense why Ed was up here all alone. The contractor should be here checking this out. Even if it was Saturday. "What is it?"

  Ed leaned against an interior support beam as she approached. "Hey, did you hear I got the bid for the riverboat casinos?"

  "No. Congratulations." But if word about the Chinese Sheetrock got out . . .

  "I'm pretty excited."

  "I bet." The wind gusted. Layla instinctively widened her stance. "What do you want me to look at?" The sooner she got Ed down, the better she'd feel.

  "Just a second. I want to talk to you first."

  She grabbed on to a rafter. "What's gotten into you? You're acting all weird. We can talk once we get down to the ground." Where she wouldn't worry that he'd fall to his death.

  "I just want to ask you something."

  She let out a sigh. Fine. Play his game, then get him to safety. "What?"

  "How's Cameron?"

  "Alana said last night that he was stable. The doctors in Baton Rouge have given him a pretty good prognosis." Did he really want to have this discussion up here?

  "Good. That's good. I hate that he got hurt."

  "Me too." She glanced in the area around Ed but could find nothing he'd need her to look at. "What's going on?"

  "Why weren't he and Alana at the restaurant? They had reservations. They should've been at the restaurant."

  "I don't know. I think Alana said she was really tired and needed to get—" Wait a minute . . . how did Ed know?

  He smiled, but there was something off. Something different about him.

  "Ed, what's going on?"

  "I never meant for Cameron or Alana to get hurt." He sighed and stuck his hand in his coat pocket. "You were just supposed to stop asking questions. Stop probing." He shook his head. "You couldn't do that, could you?"

  A metallic taste sat on her tongue. Shock? Betrayal? A combination of both, but it made her stomach turn. "You. Why?"

  "Because, my dear, I kept using the imported Sheetrock. After the news hit and the industry beefed up the standards, the prices of Chinese Sheetrock bottomed. I could get it for a fraction of what I charged. I made a tidy profit."

  He'd sold out for money? Anger churned with disgust inside her as images of friends swarmed her mind. "You made a profit, but you also killed Ms. Ethel and Mr. James. Made Pastor Chaney so sick they don't know if he'll survive. Cameron. And that newborn baby. All dead because of you." She'd trusted him. Believed in him.

  He let out a dry chuckle that rode on the wings of the wind, surrounding her until chills crept down her spine. "You don't get it, do you? I'm going straight. I cancelled all orders from the Chinese. You just couldn't keep your mouth shut for a few more weeks."

  "Mr. LeJeune?" Her heart hammered.

  Ed shook his head. "How do you think all the buildings with the imported Sheetrock passed inspection after the industry cracked down?"

  Dennis LeJeune in on it? "But he was such a stickler for going by the book."

  "Yes, but he was also nearing retirement and the parish commission's plan wasn't as much as he'd thought."

  Bile clogged in the back of her throat. She just couldn't believe it all, yet now so much made sense. She needed to tell Maddox.

  "I did it for my family. But don't you see—I'm on the up-and-up now."

  "You're a sick man." She pivoted on the walking platform.

  "Whoa. Where do you think you're going?"

  "Away from you." She glanced over her shoulder.

  He pulled a gun from his pocket. "I don't think so. Stay right where you are."

  She faced him and froze. At this close range, even if he was a horrible shot, he'd hit her. Her blood ran colder than the wind whipping around the beams. "What are you going to do? Shoot me? Add another murder to your growing list?" Panic pushed adrenaline through her veins. Her heartbeat echoed throughout her body. Every nerve was on end.

  "No. I couldn't shoot you, Layla. I've always liked you." He kept the gun pointed at her. "These high-rise construction sites . . . they sure are dangerous, aren't they?"

  Oh, God, he's going to push me and make it look like an accident. Like I fell. Sweet Jesus, help me.

  MADDOX LED THE WAY back to the cruiser. "Wonder where we can find Young today?" The rain had slacked to a mist. A very cold mist.

  "Building supply stores are retail, man. Open on Saturday. I bet we'll find Mr. Young in his office." Houston unlocked the car and climbed behind the steering wheel. He turned over the engine and pushed the heater/defroster to high.

  Slipping into the passenger's seat, Maddox clicked on his seat belt. It hung on his cell holder. He pulled out the phone to untangle the belt and noticed he had a voice mail. Man, he'd forgotten to take his phone off silent this morning.

  He held down the 1 button to enter his mailbox as Houston turned
toward Y Building Supplies. The automated voice requested his passcode. He entered it, then listened as the computer informed him he had one unheard message. Maddox pushed the button to play the message as Houston hit Ryan Street.

  "Maddox, this is Layla. I just wanted to let you know I'm running by a construction site to meet Ed Young. He needs my opinion on something. In case you need to get into my house, the address to the site is 220 Helena Street in Eternal Springs. It's where the new high-rise apartments are being built. Anyway, you can find me there if you need a key. Uh, bye."

  No! This couldn't be happening. Not Layla.

  "Turn the car around." Maddox hit the button to activate the speakerphone, then pressed the button to replay the message.

  Houston's knuckles whitened as he spun the car around. He activated the single strobe light of the unmarked vehicle.

  Maddox tried to call her, but it rang four times, then went to voice mail. "Layla, it's Maddox. Call me immediately. It's urgent." He hung up and redialed. The call went straight to voice mail.

  His heart crawled up into his throat, blocking his breath. His whole body went tense.

  Houston swerved around a car. "It'll be okay. What time did she leave that message?"

  He hadn't even paid attention. He scrolled through his menu, selected the Missed Calls option, and reviewed the time stamps. Maddox glanced at the dashboard's clock display. "Twenty-five minutes ago."

  Houston punched the accelerator, the cruiser gunned past a truck moving into the right lane.

  This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not when he'd finally lowered his defenses and allowed a woman to sneak into his heart. She couldn't be taken from him.

  Her face floated before his mind's eye. So beautiful. Peaceful. The words she'd spoken to him just last night replayed in his head. "It's always your choice, Maddox. You can question or turn from faith, or you can let God use the tragedy to strengthen your faith. It's all up to you."

  Was faith really a choice? Could it make a difference?

  What was that Scripture his father had quoted? "How great is God—beyond our understanding."

  Layla believed in the Bible. She had faith. Wouldn't God protect her?

  God hadn't protected his mother.

  But Layla told him God was always with you. Surely He'd be with her now.

  Why hadn't God been with his mother?

  Maddox swallowed. Layla also mentioned something about faith being acceptance of what we couldn't control. She lived this faith. Believed it with her whole heart. So did her sister and so many others.

  He closed his eyes and swallowed again. God, if You're really there and You're the God Layla says You are, please keep her safe.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  "With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts."

  —ELEANOR ROOSEVELT

  "I HATE THIS, LAYLA. I truly do." Ed never took the gun off of her.

  "Then put the gun down and let's talk about this." Maybe she could reason with him. Get him to let her go.

  He grinned, but it was far from his usual smile. "We both know there's nothing to talk about. Not anymore." He shifted, using the nearest beam for support. "You wouldn't stop. I couldn't let you figure it out."

  If she was going to make it out of this alive, she'd have to think fast. Dear God, help me. Show me what to do.

  "What about your kids, Ed? How can you do this to them?" If she kept him talking, maybe he'd be distracted enough for—what? What was she going to do? Wrestle the gun from him at five stories high? Barely moving, she took a step backward.

  The mist had dissipated, but the boards were still slick. She used the heel of her boot to guide herself as she slowly reversed.

  "Do to them? Don't you see? I'm doing this for them. Everything I've done is for them. And once this mess is concluded, I have the casino deals. I'll make plenty of money and can get custody of the kids. Hey, Andrea might even want me back."

  He was insane! "Maddox will find out. He'll know you killed me. He won't let you get away with this." She took another slow step back.

  Ed snickered. "The only one who could piece it together was you. I bet you're the one who figured out it was Chinese Sheetrock. Right?"

  She stuck out her chin, refusing to let him see how terrified she was. "Yes." Despite the fear sending shooting sensations throughout her, she took another half step backward. Lord, help me do this.

  "I knew it. Knew it'd only be a matter of time. I'd hoped what happened at Second Chances would give you something else to focus on. But no. You're like a bulldog, you know that?"

  Layla took another step back. She'd moved a total of about four feet, enough to reach the next support beam. "What did you expect me to do? I thought someone was targeting us. You, Ed. I wanted to solve this to protect all of us." She inched her foot back.

  He didn't notice her movements. He kept the gun trained on her but apparently didn't notice her distance. "That's why I didn't want to hurt you." He shook his head, glancing at the ground a good five stories below them.

  She took two quick steps back.

  His gaze came back to her face. "I never wanted to hurt you."

  "Then don't." She eased her foot back. Her heel slipped on the slick board. She grabbed a support beam.

  He extended his arm, the gun trembling. "Stop right there. Don't move another inch or I'll shoot." His eyes narrowed. "Did you think I didn't see you taking steps back? Do you think I'm that stupid?"

  Even with her mouth burning with the distaste of fear, Layla shot her gaze around. Maybe there was a spare board handy. A hammer. Anything that could be used as a weapon. Nothing.

  "Always underestimating me. Andrea. Dennis. Everybody. Even you."

  "Me? How'd I underestimate you?" A loose beam maybe? She leaned against the one closest to her. Steady.

  "You called me today to tell me about the Sheetrock. It never crossed your mind that I could be the one switching them out."

  "That's because I believed in you, Ed. Believed you to be the man my father said you were." Was she about to see her father again?

  "Your daddy was a good man, Layla. Don't you ever forget he was a good man."

  "Then how can you do this? He spoke so highly of you. He'd be so disappointed with what you're doing." Maybe she could play on his sense of conscience. If he had one left. God, show me what to do to get out of this. There has to be a way.

  Ed's face twisted into an expression she didn't even recognize. "We all gotta do what we have to. Andrea took my kids. My kids, Layla. I needed the money to support them. It was never supposed to be for a long time. Just enough to get me past the slow business and slump in the economy."

  "But people have died, Ed." The end didn't justify the means. How could the man her father had spoken of so highly lose sight of that truth?

  "I never wanted someone to get hurt. I didn't know the Sheetrock could cause people to get sick. I swear."

  He really thought that excused him? "What about Dennis LeJeune? You shot and killed him."

  "He made me. Gave me no choice. I was going straight, and he wanted a cut. He was gonna blackmail me."

  Dennis LeJeune, a blackmailer? She would never have believed that. Then again, she never would have believed Ed was behind all these deaths. "Listen to me, Ed. It's not too late. I can talk to Maddox, get him to listen to you. If you turn yourself in, they'll go lighter on you." At least, that's what they did on television.

  A lone siren wailed in the distance.

  God, please help me. Please. I don't want to die. Not like this. Alana . . .

  Ed snickered. "Why would I turn myself in? Don't you see? I'm going to get away with it. You're the only one who could figure it all out. Once you're out of the picture, I'm home free."

  Out of the picture? Her heart jackhammered, crushing her lungs. Dear God, help me. "But I've told Maddox and Houston. They know what I know. Matter-of-fact, they left early this morning to get warrants before they came to you." She didn't know that, but she could pray
they had figured it out.

  The siren screeched closer.

  How could she have been so stupid? All the facts were right there in front of her, yet she'd missed it. All because she'd chosen to believe the best about someone. How many others were fooling her?

  "You're lying. You haven't told them a thing. And even if they look into me after they find you, they won't have proof. All the buildings where the imported Sheetrock was used have been destroyed. Your records are destroyed too. There's nothing to link me to the Sheetrock."

  Maybe if he thought she wasn't the only one who knew, he would run instead of killing her. "I had a copy of my records at the house, Ed. I gave them to Maddox." Not exactly the truth, but she would.

  If she lived through this.

  "Another lie, Layla. I can tell. You were never good at masking the truth." He took a step closer, the gun still pointed at her. "I don't want to shoot you. Just step off the platform."

  Layla's lungs closed off. She looked down. Five stories up, and he wanted her just to step off?

  "Come on, just step off."

  "I'm not stepping off. I won't kill myself."

  "You either step off, or I'll shoot."

  The siren sounded close. Very close.

  Fear yanked false bravado to front and center. "Then shoot me. It'll be impossible to say this was an accident with a bullet in my body. They'll trace it back to you. That'll be another murder on your head." Her hands trembled as she grabbed on to a support beam.

  "Don't make this hard, Layla." He took another step closer. He aimed at the elevator control panel and fired.

  Tsing!

  Sparks flew as the bullet made contact with the panel. A hissing noise followed.

  "There's no escape, Layla. Just step off."

  "You're either going to have to shoot me or push me. I'm not budging." She wrapped her arms around the beam.

  Ed wouldn't shoot her—as she'd pointed out, her death needed to look like an accident. He'd try to push her. Youth and fear and a longing to live would make her stronger. Already adrenaline surged inside her, giving her courage and strength.