“Are you okay?” Rachel asked softly.
“Sorry. I’m just wiped out.” Layla lifted her head. “I was already stressed about the trial. Then these last couple of days . . .”
“It’ll be over soon, won’t it?”
“It will never be over. Once I testify, I’ll go back into WITSEC and wait for the possibility that they might need me again.”
“Will Brian be with you?”
Layla shook her head. “He won’t even know where I am or what my last name is. Today and tomorrow is all we’ve got.”
“Then why the fuck are you in the kitchen with me?” Rachel asked without heat. “I’ve got dinner covered. Go spend some time with your man.”
“I think he’s talking with your man, actually.” Layla felt herself smiling despite herself. She liked Rachel. She wished this sort of life was possible—spending time with people who were important to Brian, grilling a meal on a lovely day, commiserating with fellow significant others who knew what it was like to wait and worry and hope for the best. The worst part was that she’d once had the life she was now coveting and she had thrown it away.
“Then take a shower and a nap instead. It’ll be a few hours yet before the food’s ready.”
“I’ll feel like a mooch if I don’t help.”
“You can help me clean up later, how’s that? I enjoy the prep part. It’s the mess I don’t much care for.” Rachel rounded the island. “Let me show you to your room. The house has two masters, so you have your own bathroom.”
“Thank you, Rachel.” Layla met the blonde’s blue-eyed gaze and tried to convey the depth of her gratitude. It meant so much to her that she and Brian had this brief respite with trusted friends in a home filled with love. It felt real and true, although she knew it was as much a moment out of time as the past two nights spent in rundown motels.
Rachel grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Anytime.”
“You weren’t fully briefed before you got there?” Jack asked.
“I was a last-minute replacement—” Brian’s voice faded when Layla walked by the den’s open double doors. The slump of her shoulders and low-hanging head told him so much about her mood.
Heaving out his breath, he leaned heavily into the front of Jack ’s desk. The other deputy stood with his back to the hallway, but he turned his head to follow Brian’s gaze.
“What are you going to do about her?” Jack asked quietly.
“What wouldn’t I do?” Brian shoved a hand through his hair. “She’s blaming herself for us breaking up in the first place.”
“Wasn’t it her fault? She left you.”
“We’re both equally at fault,” he said gruffly, feeling the need to protect Layla from censure. “We both needed something from each other that we couldn’t vocalize at the time.”
Jack grimaced in sympathy. “I’ve been there.”
“None of which matters now. I can’t even think about living without her again. It makes me insane.” Brian forced his thoughts back to the most pressing issue at hand—keeping Layla safe. “I was brought in at the last minute because one of the deputies who was supposed to be on Layla’s detail called in. I need you to find out who that person was.”
“I’m sure they’re working that angle, too, and if the deputy’s involved, he or she has likely planned for that contingency, but I’ll see what I can dig up.” Jack crossed his arms. “The DEA has a big stake in this. This is personal for them.”
Brian understood what Jack was saying. This was interagency business—reputations were on the line and the media attention was fierce. Every precaution would’ve been taken, most especially assigning only the most trustworthy, heavily vetted deputies. For one agency to have to admit to another that one of their own had gone rogue and betrayed the service was both embarrassing and the opening of a huge can of worms. “With any other situation I’d be betting on the witness fucking it up somehow. But not Layla. She knows better and she values the lives of others too much to jeopardize anyone needlessly. Someone had a price.”
“What else can I do to help?”
Brian’s mouth curved in a rueful half smile. “You’re doing enough already. Layla’s tired and scared and worried about things we can’t change. She needed a safe haven that wasn’t a dingy, by-the-hour dump.”
“You’ll stay the night.” It wasn’t a question.
“We’ll be heading out before oh three hundred. I want to get her into San Diego prior to close of business so she can have at least a couple hours with the AUSA before she has to testify the next day.”
Jack nodded.
“I could use new wheels,” Brian said. “I was pushing my luck getting this far with Jim’s Bronco. Could you help me get a rental with some teeth to it?”