“No. I need to talk to her first; then I can talk to you,” he replied curtly.
“Excuse me?” I asked, taken aback by his words.
“I need to question her first, or I won’t be able to tell you much more than her name because she’s the only one with the answers,” he explained.
Oh, I guess that made sense. I assumed he already knew a good bit about her. “Okay. Follow me. It might take a few minutes for me to get her to come downstairs. Leigh mentioned she was upset this morning and has been holed up in her room since breakfast.”
“That’s fine. I have all day,” he replied, taking a seat in the living room.
I forced myself up the stairs and to her door. I knocked and was not surprised when there was no answer. After two more rounds of knocking, I announced, “Kayla, if you don’t open this door, I will open it myself.” Nothing.
I set to work popping the flimsy lock on the door and let myself into the bedroom. She was nowhere to be found. My eyes immediately went to the window, and I sighed in relief when I checked it and found it was still locked. Then, I noticed the bathroom door was closed, and the light was on. Was she legitimately using the facilities or was she trying to hide in the bathroom? I knocked on the door. Again, nothing. I issued my warning once more and was still met with silence. Irritated at that point, I popped the lock on the bathroom door and entered.
She was lying on the bath mat, curled into a ball, sound asleep. Her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks did not go unnoticed. I crouched beside her and placed my palm on her cheek, “Kayla, sweetheart, wake up.” When she didn’t budge, I gently shook her shoulder and said her name a little louder.
Her eyes flew open, and she looked confused for a brief moment before a scowl took over her pretty face. She pushed back from me and sat up. “What are you doing in here?”
“I knocked, and you didn’t answer. I was worried something was wrong,” I explained.
“Oh, okay. This morning you treat me like a damn leper, and now you’re suddenly concerned. Completely rational behavior,” she spat.
“I don’t have the time or patience to argue with you. I need you to get up and come downstairs with me.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Because I asked you to, okay?”
“Fine,” she huffed. She got to her feet, and just like the brat she could be, she stomped down the stairs with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. And then she froze when she reached the bottom. She took one look at Luke and tried to run back up the stairs.
I caught her by her upper arms and held her in place. “Hey, calm down. Do you know who he is?”
She frantically shook her head. “No, but he looks like a cop, or a fed. Let me go, Copper. Now.”
“No can do, Locks. He’s a friend of mine. You’re not in any trouble, and no one is going to hurt you. He just wants to ask you some questions,” I explained, making an extra effort to keep my voice soft.
She didn’t agree, but she didn’t fight me as I carefully guided her down the stairs and to the living room. Once seated, she stared at Luke with wide eyes full of trepidation.
“Hi, I’m Agent Luke Johnson with the FBI. Like Copper said, you’re not in any trouble. I’m working on a case, and we have reason to believe you were one of the victims. I’m only here to ask you a few questions in hopes you can help tie up a few loose ends in the investigation. Are you comfortable with Copper staying while we talk or would you prefer to speak privately?”
“You might as well go ahead with him here. If I’ve learned anything in the last week, it’s that he has no respect for boundaries and would likely be listening at the door,” she snarked.
“Okay then, let’s get started. Is your full name Layla Jade East?”
She sucked in a breath and stiffened. I whispered, “I already know.” She jerked her head toward me and met my eyes for a brief moment before answering him. “Yes, that’s me.”
Luke continued, “Do you know Lawrence Hastings or Harold Hensley?”
I felt every muscle in her body tense. When I glanced down, she was white as a ghost, and I wasn’t sure she was breathing. “Layla?” I asked.
She blinked at her name, but showed no signs of moving or answering or breathing. I gently shook her shoulder, “Layla, are you okay?”
She whispered, “Define know.”
Luke cleared his throat and softened his voice, “Were Hastings and Hensley planning on selling you?”
I was off the couch and on my feet in a flash. “Are you shitting me?!” I roared.
Luke remained seated and kept his voice level, “Calm down and let her answer the question.”