Chapter 9

NINE

“IT HAS TO BE an accident, Briggs.” Lahela’s voice raked over the emotion that had been building in her throat since she watched her poor neighbor get taken away in an ambulance. He assured her he was just fine, but the EMTs wanted to take him in to be sure. “Mr. Dunn said—”

“I know what he said.” Briggs looked over at her. His expression was a mix of concern and frustration that softened once more, making her think he wanted to pull her in and wrap his arms around her. She wished he would. But instead, he ran one hand through his hair and the other moved to his hip. His attention shifted to the firefighters on her porch. “I’m sure they’ll let us know.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Young.” Officer Blair, the police officer Lahela had spoken to minutes ago, reappeared at her side. “I talked with Captain Riser from the fire department, and the earliest he can get an arson investigator here is tomorrow. Will that work?”

“Sure, yeah.” Arson. She rubbed her arms, but it did nothing to remove the goose bumps. While firefighters worked to extinguish the flames, Captain Riser approached and began asking her questions she couldn’t answer about the fire, despite Mr. Dunn’s claim of responsibility.

“So you think it’s arson?”

Briggs’s question snapped her focus back to Officer Blair, but he only gave an apologetic shrug. He wasn’t the same officer she’d spoken to at the police station, which meant she’d had to explain the calls, photos, and what happened earlier with Trevor all over again.

“Until we get the report from the investigator, we won’t know,” Officer Blair said. “If it turns out to be arson, it’ll bump your case up as a priority.”

Briggs’s posture stiffened next to her. He was growing increasingly agitated, and it made her feel even worse than she already did. “And what about finding out where Trevor West is? Is someone from the department making that a priority?”

Officer Blair gave Briggs a look that could be interpreted as annoyed tolerance. “We have the information and will look into anyone who might be involved.”

Lahela stared at the charred remains of the beautiful rocking chairs. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to enjoy them once. And not only were they destroyed, but her porch was charred and the rest of her plants and decor were marred ash.

Neighbors had gathered around the perimeter of her property to watch the commotion. Most were retired, and some elderly, like Rosemary. She stood on the porch in her robe with the red and blue lights of the fire truck flashing against her skin. What if they hadn’t stopped the fire in time? What if a gust of wind sent the flames in the direction of Rosemary’s house? She was close to eighty and didn’t move fast ... Lahela’s throat burned.

“Why?” She looked between Briggs and the officer. “If this is arson and if it’s related to the calls and photos, why would they suddenly do something so...” Devastating? Dangerous? Criminal? The right word failed her. “I don’t understand why.”

Officer Blair didn’t look very old, maybe in his forties, but he had the weary expression of experience. “Sometimes the stalker will escalate their intentions if they don’t get the attention they’re after. We’ll be posting a police officer here until the investigator arrives and finishes their job, but I think it might be a good idea for you to stay with someone else until we have some more answers.”

Lahela’s stomach twisted with guilt. As scared as she was, she couldn’t burden her friends. She’d dip into her meager savings and get a hotel if she had to.

“Daphne’s already on her way.” Briggs fixed his attention on her. “You’re going to stay at her place until this gets resolved.”

Even if she’d wanted to argue, the energy to do so slipped away the second his hand moved to the small of her back. Emotion—or maybe the acrid smoke she inhaled—scratched at her throat, and immediately she wanted to fold herself into his arms and pretend like all of this was a terrible dream.

Officer Blair took her silence as an answer and handed her his business card with the report number on it. He said something else, and Lahela heard Briggs answer, but the words were nothing more than a muffled sound in her ears.

How had the day gone from so wonderful to this?

If this wasn’t an accident ... Was Officer Blair right? Was the person behind the calls escalating their efforts? Her eyes moved from the damage on her porch to her innocent neighbors. Mr. Dunn. She could still hear his frantic apologies assuming the fire was his fault. He’d come racing over to protect her, but what if he’d seen the person who started it and tried to stop them?

A chill spread across her skin and she rubbed against her arms again, but her hands were shaking and the fear swirling inside her threatened to steal her breath.

“Lahela.” Briggs’s strong arms wrapped around her. He pulled her against his chest, and she melted into the warmth like it was a security blanket. His steady voice spoke into her ear. “Slow, deep breaths.”

She tried, but the vise around her chest just seemed to tighten. Tears burned the back of her eyes, and embarrassment flashed hot in her cheeks. Breathe. You can’t fall apart.

With great effort, she peeled herself away from Briggs and felt the void of his protectiveness immediately. His hand still lingered on her back, his thumb rubbing a soothing track back and forth that helped her keep time with the breaths she had to think to take.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” The words slipped out honestly, and when Briggs’s hazel eyes darkened with concern, she wanted to take them back. “I’m fine. I mean”—she scrambled for her thoughts to make sense—“I’m just sorry all of this is happening.”

Briggs had her back in his arms again, his breath warm against her forehead. “Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault.”

“Mr. Dunn’s in the hospital, Briggs.” Her voice warbled against his shirt. “My porch looks like a bonfire was set on it, and tomorrow an arson investigator is going to tell me if someone did it on purpose.”

“Mr. Dunn’s going to be all right.” Briggs held her tighter as his voice rumbled through his chest. “The paramedic said the burns look superficial.” That should’ve made her feel better, but all she could think about was what if it had been worse? “And I’ve heard fire investigators are pretty cool. Maybe they have a sticker?”

Lahela couldn’t help but smile. She knew what he was doing and it eased her anxiety. Lifting her head from his chest, she met his eyes. Even though the timing was the worst, the tension began shifting from fear to something else entirely.

The sound of a car door closing jerked her attention to the figure jogging around Briggs’s truck. Lahela stepped back and out of Briggs’s embrace, feeling the disappointment she saw in his face.

“Lahela!” Daphne jogged across the yard. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” This time she half believed it as she returned her friend’s hug.

“Briggs?”

“All good.”

Daphne hugged him and then looked at the house. “Do they know what happened?”

“Not yet,” Briggs said.

“Mr. Dunn thinks he may have used too much polyurethane on the rocking chairs he gave me.” Lahela ignored the look she felt coming from Briggs. Until it was proven otherwise, she could only hope this was a freak accident. “Captain Riser said it was possible with the heat it could be spontaneous ignition.”

“Spontaneous ignition?” Daphne asked.

“Under the right conditions there are some chemicals that can ignite on their own,” Briggs answered. “But they haven’t ruled out arson. They’re bringing in an investigator.”

Daphne’s brows scrunched together, and familiar worry creased the edges of her green eyes. She turned them on Lahela. “Maybe it’s time you call Ke—”

“Absolutely not.” Lahela cut her off. “I’ve already spoken to the police twice tonight and we don’t know this wasn’t an accident.” She put as much conviction in her words as she could, even as she saw Daphne and Briggs exchange a look that said they didn’t believe her. It didn’t matter though. Kekoa was already busy with his job, and she wouldn’t involve him in her problems. I’ve already burdened too many people.

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to have Kekoa’s expertise on the matter.”

“Daphne, please.” Lahela’s voice cracked and Briggs started to reach for her, but she took a step back. Her focus remained on Daphne. She was the only one who really knew her brother and what he did for a living. And she wasn’t wrong. One call to Kekoa and it wouldn’t take him long to find answers. So, why am I not asking him for help? That same question lingered in Daphne’s confused expression. “He’s working on a big case.” Probably not a lie. “And if the investigator determines the fire was—” She didn’t want to say the word. “ If it’s not an accident, then I will call Kekoa if necessary.”

A tense second passed between them before Daphne smiled gently, wrapping an arm around Lahela’s waist. “Okay.”

Relief tried to fight its way through the stress coiled tightly around every muscle in her body, but it was a lost cause. She wasn’t going to call her brother, because if she did, it meant she’d have to admit she needed help and it wasn’t the kind Daphne or Briggs might think—it was the kind that would take her back home to Hawai?i.