Page 34 of Layla Meets Her Match

“Arsenic.” The officer’s eyebrows jump as he looks between Mila and Lincoln.

“Yeah.” Mila nods. “I’m sure Dillon can give you the report or whatever. Lincoln and my fiancé took one of the cookies Lincoln bought Monday over to him Monday night. If you need some for evidence or something?—”

“I have one more left,” Lincoln offers. “You can come by my house this evening to get it if you want.”

“I’ll do that,” Officer Brady says. He looks enthusiastically at Lincoln. I have a feeling that someone answered Mila’s report so quickly because of who the target is. Officer Brady hands a card to Mila. “Have your friend copy me in on what he finds in that report. Now—” He looks between Mila and Lincoln. “—is there anyone either of you can think of that would want to hurt you? Someone might be using such a high-profile target to bring down your business, Ms. Dash.”

She shakes her head. “Nothing that jumps to mind. Sometimes other food truck owners get annoyed with me for parking near them, but I only do that when there are a lot of food trucks parked together.”

“Mila’s is always the most popular,” I point out. “Everyone loves her desserts, so there are food truck owners that could be jealous and want to shut her down.”

Officer Brady jots something in his notebook. “Why don’t you make a list of the regular places you park so I can question people?”

“I can do that,” Mila says.

“And you, Mr. Knight? Is it well known that you frequent the bakery truck?” Officer Brady asks.

Lincoln’s cheeks redden, and I can’t help but lay a hand on his arm. He’s a good guy, and he shouldn’t feel bad for helping Mila with her business.

“He’s a loyal friend to Mila,” I jump in. I don’t want Lincoln to feel uncomfortable for being a good guy. “So he comes a lot, and people notice him, of course.”

Mila coughs, and I look over at her, raising an eyebrow. She avoids my gaze and turns back to Officer Brady. She’s holding back a smile. She’s been so worried about someone using her truck to hurt Lincoln that I can’t believe she finds any of this funny, so what’s going on? Maybe she really believes that crazy talk that Astrid started about Lincoln coming to the truck for me. It’s just the kind of ridiculous notion that Mila would latch on to. The thing is, after Dear Old Disappearing Dad broke up with her, she found her happily ever after—her food truck and Landon. When the jerk broke up with me, he left me with a healthy dose of reality. Sure, Margot is uber cute and I wouldn’t take back my actions for a second if it meant not getting her, but being a single mom is hard. And I have a solid support group.

Officer Brady glances at Mila but turns his attention back to Lincoln. “Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you?”

He shrugs. “Honestly, no. But my agent and the PR department at the Rays would know better. They don’t tell me about hate mail unless I need to be careful about something, and that’s only happened once since I came to LA.”

“No weird calls or emails to your personal account?” Officer Brady asks.

Lincoln shakes his head.

“Okay,” Officer Brady continues. “I’ll check in with your manager and the Rays and see if they can give me a list. I don’t think our perpetrator is anyone violent, given the means they’ve employed so far. Probably a woman, would be my guess.”

Astrid gasps next to me, but I swallow back a laugh. This is crime show 101. Women are the poisoners. It doesn’t make Officer Brady particularly brilliant.

He glances over the whole group. “No one has noticed anyone lurking around or anything?”

We all shake our heads, but it’s always so busy that I don’t know if I would notice if someone snuck into the truck.

“It’s more likely that someone is tampering with the desserts after Mr. Knight picks them up here, since no one else seems to be affected.” He zeroes in on Lincoln again. “You haven’t had anyone strange approach you after buying the desserts?”

“People stop me for autographs, so I guess that’s possible, but I’m usually in a hurry. I try not to get waylaid when I come here in the mornings.” Lincoln’s cheeks are still red, and I wish I could wrap my arms around him so he knows how great he is.

Officer Brady asks us a few more questions and then assures us he’ll follow up on every lead possible. He turns to go, and Mila and Astrid move into the truck to start getting ready for the day. I can hear the murmurs of at least a few people already waiting on the other side of the truck, but I want to reassure Lincoln before I go in and help.

“Oh.” Officer Brady turns around. “If we want to catch whoever’s doing this, I would suggest you don’t change your routine. Just make sure you have this friend of yours check anything before you eat it. And keep your eyes open. All of you.” He nods at me, since I’m the only food truck employee still out here, and then walks away.

Once he’s out of sight, I throw my arms around Lincoln’s neck. He’s startled, because he stands there for a few seconds before his arms come around my back.

And suddenly, this isn’t the friendly hug I thought it was, because I’m caught up in his fresh shower smell and the clean, brisk scent of whatever bodywash or deodorant he uses. He rests his head on top of mine for a moment, and that daydream I have that keeps morphing makes me wish he’d kiss the top of my head like I was thinking about before I fell asleep the other night.

I don’t want to step out of the hug, but it’s gone on way past “friendly” territory, and Lincoln’s going to think I’m angling for more than friendship with him if I don’t come to my senses, so reluctantly I break the contact and step back. “I just wanted you to know that I think it’s awesome you’ve supported Mila like this.” I reach back up to put my hands on his arms and grip them. (And not just because I want to feel his biceps.)

His words come out in a sigh as he studies me. “Layla …”

“Lincoln, you’re an awesome friend. Don’t let people speculating about you coming to the food truck all the time make you feel weird. You’re amazing.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Thanks, Layla. You’re a pretty amazing friend yourself.” He leans over and kisses me on the cheek before straightening and then waving at me as he jogs toward his Bronco.

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