Page 10 of Deadly Sins: Lust
“Layla and Georgia,” Val said, “this is Marissa’s husband.”
“Hey, I’m Layla.”
Georgia jerked her chin up, but said nothing.
Having made the introductions, Val wandered to the bathroom.
Layla was tall and slender, with straight brunette hair to her shoulders, and a delicate, heart-shaped face. She slid off her chair, swigged the remaining wine in her glass, set the glass on the counter, and threw her arms around Nick, as if they’d known one another for years.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I blew you off the other night when you called. And I’m sorry I wasn’t looking out for her. I should have taken you seriously when you called me. It’s just ... this kind of thing rarely happens here. Believe me. This is a safe place. I thought she would be all right. I really did. If I knew she’d end up—”
Arms dangling at his side like an uncomfortable rag doll, Nick broke from the embrace and stepped behind me. It pained me to see him so debilitated, validating my reasons for being there for him. The awkward quiet of the room was unnerving. I attempted to break the silence, but Nick stopped me.
“What you did or didn’t do doesn’t matter anymore, Layla,” he said. “My wife is dead. All I care about is finding who’s responsible for what happened.”
“We’reresponsible,” Layla said. “All of us. We should have been with her at the end of the night, and we weren’t.”
“You’re right. You should have been there. But what I need to know is how she died. I need to find out who killed her and why.”
Val returned to the kitchen, propping herself up on a barstool. “Killedher? No onekilledher. It was an accident. A horrible, unfortunate accident.”
Nick shook his head. “Think what you want. I’m not buying it.”
Layla placed her hand on her hips. “I know it’s hard, honey. We’re all struggling to believe she’s gone.”
“I want to know where you all went last night, from the moment you left the house, to the time you saw her last,” Nick said.
“There were only two places,” Layla said. “We had dinner at Pelican and went to Splashes nightclub after.”
“What time?”
“Our dinner reservation was at eight. We took an Uber around 7:45, stayed a couple of hours at the restaurant, and then walked to the nightclub from there, since it was only a couple of blocks away.”
“Did Marissa talk to anyone outside of your group, or did you notice anyone talking to her?”
“That’s hard to say.”
“Why?”
“We were all talking to everyone,” Layla said. “And we were all drinking. Everything past dinner is kind of a blur.”
“I had a couple of drinks, but I wasn’t drunk,” Georgia said. “I remember everything.”
She set her glass down and stood. She had a curvy, pear—shaped body, olive skin, and long, dark hair that looked like it was permed, even though I guessed it wasn’t. She neither looked American nor Australian. I guessed Iranian, but I’d never been great at guessing nationalities of people.
“Marissa stuck with us most of the night,” Georgia said. “The only person I saw her talk to aside from our group was Shawn when he stopped by for a few minutes.”
Nick furrowed his brow. “You don’t mean Shawn Hayes, do you?”
Layla glared at Georgia with a look that said,“Stop talking,”
Georgia didn’t take the hint. “What’s the big deal? He’s a friend of ours from college.”
I exchanged glances with Maddie. She shrugged. The name Shawn Hayes meant nothing to us, but it clearly meant something to Nick. He’d fisted his hand, and for a split second, I imagined him taking his frustrations out on the wall behind him.
He gritted his teeth. “What is that piece of trash doing in Australia?”
“I invited him,” Layla said. “We’re friends, and I wanted him at my wedding.”