It pierced her as she spoke of it. That fear, that horror and despair. “She was afraid all the time, Fox, and mad with that fear, that guilt, those memories by the time she delivered the child. I felt it all, it was all swimming inside her-and me. She wanted to end it. She wanted to take the child with her, and end that, too, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.”

Those alert and compassionate eyes narrowed on Layla’s face. “She thought about killing the baby?”

As she nodded, Layla drew air in slowly. “She feared it, and hated it, and still she loved it. It, not she. I mean-”

“Hester thought of the baby as ‘it.’ ”

“Yes. Yes. But still, she couldn’t kill the baby. If she had-I thought, when I understood that, if she had, I wouldn’t be here. She gave me life by sparing the child, and now she was going to kill me because I was trapped with her. We walked, and if she heard me she must’ve thought I was one of the voices driving her mad. I couldn’t make her listen, couldn’t make her understand. Then I saw you.”

She paused to drink again, to steady herself. “I saw you, and I thought, Thank God. Thank God, he’s here. I could feel the stones in my hand when she picked them up, feel the weight of them dragging down the pockets of the dress we wore. There was nothing I could do, but I thought-”

“You thought I’d stop her.” So had he, Fox mused. Save the girl.

“You were calling out, telling her it wasn’t her fault. You ran to her-to me. And for an instant, I think she heard you. I think, I felt, she wanted to believe you. Then we were in the water, going down. I couldn’t tell if she fell or jumped, but we were under the water. I told myself not to panic. Don’t panic. I’m a good swimmer.”

“Captain of the swim team.”

“I told you that?” She managed a small laugh, wet her throat again. “I told myself I could get to the surface, even with the weight, I’m a strong swimmer. But I couldn’t. Worse, I couldn’t even try. It wasn’t just the stones weighing me down.”

“It was Hester.”

“Yes. I saw you in the water, diving down, and then…” She closed her eyes, pressed her lips hard together.

“It’s okay.” Reaching over, he closed a hand over hers. “We’re okay.”

“Fox, I don’t know if it was her, or if I… I don’t know. We grabbed on to you.”

“You kissed me.”

“We killed you.”

“We all came to a bad end, but it didn’t actually happen. However vivid and sensory, it wasn’t real. It was a hard way for you to get inside Hester Deale’s head, but now we know more about her.”

“Why were you there?”

“Best guess? We’ve got this link, you and me. I’ve shared dreams with Cal and Gage before. Same thing. But there was more this time, another level of connection. In the dream, I saw you, Layla. Not Hester. I heard you. That’s interesting. Something to think about.”

“When you juggle.”

He grinned. “Couldn’t hurt. We need to-”

His intercom buzzed. “Mr. Edwards is here.”

Fox rose, flipped the switch on his desk. “Okay, give me a minute.” He turned back to Layla as she rose. “We need some more time on this. My last appointment today’s at-”

“Four. Mrs. Halliday.”

“Right. You’re good. If you’re not booked, we could go upstairs after my last appointment, do some work on this.”

It was time, Layla thought, to suit up. “All right.”

He walked to the doors with her, slid them open. “We could have some dinner,” he began.

“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“I have every delivery place within a five-mile radius on speed dial.”

She smiled a little. “Good plan.”

He walked out with her to where two hundred and twenty pounds of Edwards filled a chair in reception. His belly, covered in a white T-shirt, pillowed over the waistband of his jeans. His scrubby gray hair was topped by a John Deere gimme cap. He pushed to his feet, held out a hand to clasp the one Fox offered.

“How you doing?” Fox asked.

“You tell me.”

“Come on back, Mr. Edwards. We’ll talk about it.”

Works outside, Layla decided as Fox led his client back. A farmer maybe, or a builder, a landscaper. A couple clicks over sixty, and discouraged.

“What’s his story, Alice? Can you tell me?”

“Property dispute,” Alice said as she gathered up envelopes. “Tim Edwards has a farm a few miles south of town. Developers bought some of the land that runs with it. Survey puts some eight acres of Tim’s land over the line. Developer wants it, so does Tim. I’m going to run to the post office.”

“I can do that.”

Alice wagged a finger. “Then I wouldn’t get the walk or the gossip. I’ve got notes here on a trust Fox is putting together. Why don’t you draft that out while I’m gone?”

Alone, Layla sat, got to work. Within ten minutes, she wondered why people needed such complicated, convoluted language to say the straightforward. She picked her way through it, answered the phone, made appointments. When Alice came back, she had questions. She noted that Edwards walked out looking considerably less discouraged.

By one o’clock, she was on her own and pleased to print out the trust Alice had proofed for her. By page two, the printer signaled its cartridge was out of ink. She went to the supply closet across from the pretty little law library hoping Fox stocked backups. She spotted the box on the top shelf.

Why was it always the top shelf? she wondered. Why were there top shelves anyway when not everyone in the world was six feet tall? She rose to her toes, stretched up and managed to nudge a corner of the carton over the edge of the shelf. With one hand braced on a lower shelf, she wiggled it out another inch.

“I’m going out to grab some lunch,” Fox said from behind her. “If you want anything- Here, let me get that.”

“I’ve almost got the damn thing now.”

“Yeah, and it’s going to fall on your head.”

He leaned in, reached up, just as she turned.

Their bodies brushed, bumped. Her face tipped up, filled his vision as her scent slid around him like satin ribbons. Those sea-siren eyes made him feel a little drunk and a lot needy. He thought: Step back, O’Dell. Then he made the mistake of letting his gaze drop down to her mouth. And he was done.

He angled down, another inch, heard her breath draw in. Her lips parted, and he closed that last whisper of distance. A small, soft taste, then another, both feather light. Then her lashes swept down over those seductive eyes; her mouth brushed his.

The kiss went deeper, a slow slide into heat that tangled his senses, that filled them with her until all he wanted was to sink and sink and sink. And drown.

She made some sound, pleasure, distress, he couldn’t tell with the blood roaring in his ears. But it reminded him where they were. How they were. He broke the kiss, realized he was essentially shoving her into the storage closet.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She was working for him, for God’s sake. “I shouldn’t have. That was inappropriate. It was-” Amazing. “It was…”

“Fox?”

He jerked back an entire foot at the voice behind him. When he whirled around, he could feel his stomach drop straight to his knees. “Mom.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” She gave Fox a sunny smile, then turned it on Layla. “Hi. I’m Joanne Barry. Fox’s mother.”

Why was there never a handy hole in the floor when you needed one? Layla thought. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Barry. I’m Layla Darnell.”

“I told you Layla’s helping me out in the office. We were just…”

“Yes, you were.”

Still smiling, she left it at that.

She was the kind of woman you’d probably stare at even if you weren’t stunned stupid, Layla thought. There was all that rich brown hair waving wild around a strong-boned face with its full, unpainted mouth, and long hazel eyes that managed to look amused, curious, and patient all at once. Joanne had the tall, willowy build that carried the low-slung jeans, boots, and skinny sweater look perfectly.