Read Online Key Lime Pie by Josi S. Kilpack - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Josi S. Kilpack
Tags: cozy mystery
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paused for a moment, but then took the phone. “Hello . . . yes . . . okay . . . I don’t know . . . yes . . . okay.” She hung up and stood slowly, seeming to be more worried about displacing the cat than the content of the phone call. Once she was on her feet, she met Sadie’s eyes. “The police want me to come to the station.” Her eyes flitted to the TV.
“It’s a rerun,” Sadie said, trying to preempt any ideas Layla might have of finishing the show before following the police’s instructions. Layla hesitated, and Sadie pressed the power button. She didn’t know what to make of the other woman, and wouldn’t have been surprised if Layla had insisted on staying. Luckily, she didn’t.
“Did they say why they wanted you to come down?” Sadie asked, glad that she had Layla’s full attention now—though that wasn’t saying much.
“They said it was important,” Layla said.
Sadie’s heart started racing. Eric had said the police would know today whether or not the body was Megan’s. This could be that answer. And Layla was the one who would hear the news first?
“Do you need a ride?” Sadie asked on impulse, suddenly worried about the other woman’s ability to hear tragic news—if in fact the news was tragic—not to mention Layla’s ability to drive. Her behavior was so strange already; if the police told her the remains they had found were her daughter’s, how would she react? Besides that, the rental car was the only vehicle Sadie had seen and she didn’t imagine Layla was authorized to drive it.
Layla took one more glance at the blank TV then let out a regretful sigh. “Okay,” she said in that same even tone. “But Wheel of Fortune starts at noon.”
Chapter 11
Layla gave Sadie perfect instructions on how to find the police station, which was only a few blocks away. By the time they arrived, Sadie had drawn up the hypothesis that Homestead, Florida, wasn’t all that different than Garrison, Colorado. The towns seemed to be similar in size and endowed with equal quaintness. The cobblestone streets and businesses of the downtown area were clean and well-maintained, reflecting a historical feel. Palm trees dotted the city, just as cottonwoods and birch trees grew throughout Garrison. Old-fashioned lampposts and park benches encouraged people to stop and smell the roses—or hibiscus, as the case may be.
As soon as they pulled up to the police station, a blocky building the same color as Layla’s house, Layla let herself out. Sadie scrambled to shut off the car and follow the other woman inside despite the lack of invitation. Sadie didn’t think Layla would object and, quite honestly, didn’t know what else to do. She considered texting Eric, but what would she say? Finding the right words to explain why she’d come to Florida was much harder than she’d anticipated. Of course, it would have been much easier if he’d have answered the door like he was supposed to.
“Can I help you?” a Latin woman at the front counter asked, cutting off Sadie’s thoughts.
Layla didn’t answer the question. Instead, she looked around the room. From the attention she gave them, one would think the white walls, utilitarian desks, and terra-cotta tile made for fascinating décor. Sadie gave Layla a few seconds to speak before leaning in and answering for her.
“This is Layla McCallister,” Sadie said. “I’m not sure who called her, but someone from the station asked her to come in. Perhaps something regarding her daughter, Megan Burton.” Sadie cast a sideways glance at Layla to see if she reacted, but she was looking out the front door of the police station. Sadie couldn’t see whether she was surprised to hear Megan’s name or not.
The woman at the desk nodded and put the phone to her ear as she punched a button and lowered her chin so that Sadie couldn’t hear what she said. A moment later, she hung up the phone and directed Sadie and Layla to a row of plastic chairs on the left
“It’s a rerun,” Sadie said, trying to preempt any ideas Layla might have of finishing the show before following the police’s instructions. Layla hesitated, and Sadie pressed the power button. She didn’t know what to make of the other woman, and wouldn’t have been surprised if Layla had insisted on staying. Luckily, she didn’t.
“Did they say why they wanted you to come down?” Sadie asked, glad that she had Layla’s full attention now—though that wasn’t saying much.
“They said it was important,” Layla said.
Sadie’s heart started racing. Eric had said the police would know today whether or not the body was Megan’s. This could be that answer. And Layla was the one who would hear the news first?
“Do you need a ride?” Sadie asked on impulse, suddenly worried about the other woman’s ability to hear tragic news—if in fact the news was tragic—not to mention Layla’s ability to drive. Her behavior was so strange already; if the police told her the remains they had found were her daughter’s, how would she react? Besides that, the rental car was the only vehicle Sadie had seen and she didn’t imagine Layla was authorized to drive it.
Layla took one more glance at the blank TV then let out a regretful sigh. “Okay,” she said in that same even tone. “But Wheel of Fortune starts at noon.”
Chapter 11
Layla gave Sadie perfect instructions on how to find the police station, which was only a few blocks away. By the time they arrived, Sadie had drawn up the hypothesis that Homestead, Florida, wasn’t all that different than Garrison, Colorado. The towns seemed to be similar in size and endowed with equal quaintness. The cobblestone streets and businesses of the downtown area were clean and well-maintained, reflecting a historical feel. Palm trees dotted the city, just as cottonwoods and birch trees grew throughout Garrison. Old-fashioned lampposts and park benches encouraged people to stop and smell the roses—or hibiscus, as the case may be.
As soon as they pulled up to the police station, a blocky building the same color as Layla’s house, Layla let herself out. Sadie scrambled to shut off the car and follow the other woman inside despite the lack of invitation. Sadie didn’t think Layla would object and, quite honestly, didn’t know what else to do. She considered texting Eric, but what would she say? Finding the right words to explain why she’d come to Florida was much harder than she’d anticipated. Of course, it would have been much easier if he’d have answered the door like he was supposed to.
“Can I help you?” a Latin woman at the front counter asked, cutting off Sadie’s thoughts.
Layla didn’t answer the question. Instead, she looked around the room. From the attention she gave them, one would think the white walls, utilitarian desks, and terra-cotta tile made for fascinating décor. Sadie gave Layla a few seconds to speak before leaning in and answering for her.
“This is Layla McCallister,” Sadie said. “I’m not sure who called her, but someone from the station asked her to come in. Perhaps something regarding her daughter, Megan Burton.” Sadie cast a sideways glance at Layla to see if she reacted, but she was looking out the front door of the police station. Sadie couldn’t see whether she was surprised to hear Megan’s name or not.
The woman at the desk nodded and put the phone to her ear as she punched a button and lowered her chin so that Sadie couldn’t hear what she said. A moment later, she hung up the phone and directed Sadie and Layla to a row of plastic chairs on the left
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