Free Key Lime Pie by Josi S. Kilpack Page A

.” He glanced at Layla before continuing. “We think that this could be Megan, or someone who looks very much like her.” He leaned back in his chair.
    “It’s not her,” Layla suddenly said, causing Sadie and Sergeant Mathews to look at her. She was sitting in her chair, her back straight and her mouth thin. Sadie, sitting beside her, could see the muscles bunching up below Layla’s ear, the only betrayal of her tension. Layla shook her head for emphasis and repeated herself. “It’s not her.” She began looking around the office as though searching for something else to focus on.
    Sadie looked at Sergeant Mathews, who sat in his chair watching Layla. He began talking again. “We’ll be getting the original from Texas any time, which will better allow us to finalize the results.”
    Layla let out a breath and made eye contact with Mathews again. “It isn’t her,” she said. The emotion had drained from her words and her face, returning her to her usual flatness.
    “Why don’t you want to believe it could be her?” Sadie asked, instantly aware of Mathews looking at her and wishing she could bite back the words, or at least not ask them quite so sharply. I am not a busybody. I am not a busybody. I am not a busybody.
    Layla didn’t answer. Instead she stood up. “Can I go? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
    Mathews watched her carefully and nodded. Layla headed for the door. Sadie didn’t know what to do except stand up as well. She turned to the sergeant, looking for some way to close this strange meeting. She felt as though she should apologize for Layla, but she’d only known the woman for forty minutes. More than anything she worried that Layla’s actions would come across as suspicious to the police, and although she didn’t know this woman or understand why she was so . . . oblivious, she felt protective of her for some reason.
    “I, uh, well . . . um. It was nice meeting you.” She turned to see Layla heading toward the front of the police station. “And I’ll be sure to relay this information to Mr. Burton as soon as I speak to him.”
    Mathews stood as well, but didn’t speak right away. “Do you have a moment?”
    “Um,” Sadie looked to see Layla push her way out of the front doors. “I think maybe I should make sure she gets home okay.”
    “Layla’s all right,” Mathews said. “We all keep an eye on her; she’ll probably walk home.”
    Sadie snapped her head around to look at the sergeant. “You keep an eye on her?”
    Mathews smiled, revealing a slight gap between his front teeth that Sadie hadn’t noticed before—probably because he hadn’t smiled since she’d met him. He gestured for her to sit down again. “Everyone looks out for Layla. She’ll be fine.”
    Sadie sat, holding her purse on her lap with both hands. “Looks out for her?”
    Mathews also returned to his chair. “How well do you know Layla?”
    “Not well at all,” Sadie explained. “I know Eri—Mr. Burton. We’re . . . friends and we live in the same town in Colorado.”
    He nodded, and Sadie felt an uncomfortable flutter in her stomach at his easy acceptance. Easy acceptance was not a trait police officers were all that good at—not the officers Sadie had met, anyway.
    “But Mr. Burton told you what to expect with Layla, right?”
    “Not exactly,” Sadie said, relaxing her hands where they were gripping the handles of her purse too tightly. “I was worried about him and he needed some things from his house, so I brought them to him, only he wasn’t there. That’s when I met Layla.”
    “Today?” Mathews asked, his heavy eyebrows rising onto his forehead.
    Sadie nodded again, shifting in her seat. “Less than an hour ago.”
    “And you haven’t seen Mr. Burton since your arrival?”
    “No.”
    He seemed to consider this for a few moments. “Do you mind telling me what had you so worried about him?” Mathews asked, using that careful tone police were so good at.
    She opened her