In the Shadow of Evil by Robin Caroll

so early?"
    "I take it you haven't seen the paper yet?"
    "I haven't seen anything other than the clock." And then she remembered. Krissy Morgan. Ambush. Layla sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. "How bad is it?"
    "You know there's an article about you?"
    "Yeah. A reporter accosted me yesterday." She yawned again before telling her sister the details.
    "It's pretty bad."
    Layla opened her eyes and drew her knees to her chest. "Read it to me." She rested her chin on her knees. Lightning flashed, filling the room with light before plunging it back into darkness.
    "Um, it's kinda long."
    Her heart slammed against her ribs. "It's more than just a little filler article?"
    "Layla, it's half a page."
    She swallowed the groan. "How bad?"
    "Well . . ."
    "Just tell me."
    "They talk about your award, launch right into the house burning and a body being inside, insinuate that maybe this was all done against you personally, and end with posing the question of will this disqualify you from being eligible to win a national CotY."
    This time she didn't even try to stop it—she let out a loud groan.
    "And the reporter closes with stating that even if you aren't disqualified, this certainly should kill any chances you have of winning the national."
    And the surprises just kept coming.
    Lightning flickered, followed by a ripple of thunder.
    "They won't disqualify you, will they?"
    Layla licked her lips. "I don't know." Surely they wouldn't . . . Could they take away the regional award? A weight sat in her stomach like lead.
    "But the house burned after you'd completed it. There's got to be consideration for something like this happening, right?" The panic in Alana's voice came through loud and clear.
    "I'm sure it's all fine. Krissy Morgan just wrote it with that slant to get attention." Probably trying to make a name for herself and using Layla to do it. The nerve.
    "Can you find out?"
    Layla smiled. "It's gonna be okay. If there's a problem, NARI will contact me. Don't sweat it."
    "Well . . . if you say so."
    Layla jumped on the opportunity to change the subject. "What time is Cameron supposed to get back?"
    "He hopes to return in time for supper. We won't miss your performance tonight."
    "I know you're anxious to see him."
    "You have no idea." A chirping sounded in the background. "Oh, that's him calling on my cell now."
    "Bye." Layla hung up the phone, then rested her head against the cold leather. Problem was, she did have an idea how Alana felt about Cameron.
    She had felt that way about Randy.
    Or thought she had.
    Layla pushed back down to a prone position and laid her forearm over her forehead. God, this day has got to get better. Please.
    She dozed until thunder shook her awake again. Lightning split the darkness.
    She shoved out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. No way would she waste good anger and aggravation by getting depressed.
    After thirty minutes of hot water pelting down on her and singing at the top of her lungs, she dressed, feeling much better. The storm continued to rage outside, but she'd choose to ignore it.
    The phone rang just as she pulled on her socks. Probably Alana calling her back. Layla fell across the bed, took in the time—7:52—and grabbed the receiver before it rang again. "I'm fine, really."
    "Layla?" The masculine voice sent her to her feet.
    "Sorry, thought you were someone else. Yes, this is Layla. Who is this?"
    "Detective Maddox Bishop."
    Oh, joy and rapture. "Yes, Detective, what can I do for you?"
    "We'd like you to come down to the sheriff's office this morning. To answer a few questions." He let that sink in for a minute. "We can come pick you up if that'd be more convenient."
    A veiled threat? Agree to come in, or we'll come and get you? "No, I can drive myself. What time?"
    "How about nine?"
    "Fine."
    "See you then. Just ask for me or Detective Wallace."
    She let the phone fall back to its cradle and sank to the bed. Thunder growled outside her window. Today just wasn't her