Chapter 11

ELEVEN

EYES—GUARDED. Smile—forced. Posture—uncomfortable.

Briggs didn’t need years of working as a police officer to interpret Lahela’s countenance while sitting in church. Two things kept him seated away from her at the back of the church: First, she was safe sitting with Daphne and her family, which included her father, Jack Crawford, a former Texas Ranger. And second, from his position he could watch for anyone paying extra attention to Lahela.

Or rather, unusual attention . Lahela had a magnetism that drew others to her—even if no one else but him could see how hard she was trying to appear like her normally bright self. The second the service ended, he made a beeline to her and invited her to lunch at a nearby café.

brIGGS EYED Lahela’s untouched ham sandwich. “Is your sandwich okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not that hungry.” She glanced at his own half-eaten turkey club. “You either?”

“Not really.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and her gaze slipped away from his. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have ordered anything.”

“Lahela, please stop apologizing. I’d buy you a thousand uneaten sandwiches if it means sitting here with you.”

Uneaten sandwiches? Had he really just said that? Who buys eaten sandwiches, Briggs? A burst of bubbly laughter from Lahela pulled him from his self-deprecation. Her smile reached to the corners of her eyes as she continued to laugh, no doubt realizing what he’d just said.

Since Trevor had shown up on Saturday, this was the first glimpse of the old Lahela he’d seen, and he wanted to do whatever it took to be the one who kept her smiling and laughing—even at his expense.

The attempt to keep her smiling was interrupted by a phone call from Nash. “Hey, man. I’m out with Lahela now.”

“A date? It’s about time,” Nash practically yelled into his ear. From the smile playing on Lahela’s face, she’d heard him. “Have you confessed all your feelings for—”

“I’ll call you later.” Cheeks flaming, Briggs silenced his phone. “Sorry about that.”

“Nash needs to work on his indoor voice.” She winked and then her playful tone shifted, brown eyes searching his face. “So, is this a date?”

“No.”

Her face instantly flashed with hurt, and he stretched his hand across the table, taking hold of hers.

“ If this was a date, it would be our first, and I have plans that don’t include us staring at uneaten sandwiches in a noisy café.”

Her eyes locked on his and filled with something that looked very much like hope. “Oh yeah? Where would it be?” She lifted a brow. “ If it was our first date?”

He didn’t have to think hard because he’d been planning this date in his head for months. And all the dates after that . His cheeks burned again. “On our first date”— not if , he hoped she caught that—“I’d take you—”

Lahela’s cell phone rang, startling her so much she jerked her hand from his. There was no mistaking the fear in her eyes. She cautiously flipped her phone over so she could read the screen and her shoulders relaxed a smidge, but her expression was full of anxiety when she looked up at him. “It’s the police.”

He nodded, expecting her to step away to answer the call, but instead she answered and put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“May I speak to Lahela Young?”

“Speaking.”

“Hello, Ms. Young, this is Officer Sandberg. I took your report yesterday.”

“Yes, I remember.” Lahela sounded as anxious as Briggs was feeling. He opened his hand to her and she slipped hers into his. “I’m here with my friend Briggs Turner. Do you have any news?”

“Yes, ma’am. Officer Blair spoke to a few of your neighbors to see if they saw anything suspicious.” Lahela’s grip tightened on his. “Mrs. Rosemary Truitt has a doorbell camera, and Officer Blair pulled video from around the time you arrived at your home to just before the fire started. There was a vehicle that drove by Mrs. Truitt’s property twice before parking for a few minutes and then leaving. We couldn’t get a license plate number, but the make, model, and description of the vehicle are a match for Trevor West.”

Lahela’s hand flew to her mouth, barely blocking her gasp. Her body stiffened even as she shook her head like she didn’t believe it.

Anger pulsed through Briggs and he got up, moving to her side. Why hadn’t he insisted Officer Sandberg find Trevor and pull him in for questioning? Lahela may not have seen the calls on his phone, but that didn’t mean anything, considering this information. It wouldn’t be the first time a stalker used a burner phone to antagonize their victim.

He reined in his emotions and focused on his next question. “So the fire was arson?”

“According to Investigator Sinclair, the origin of the fire started at the rocking chair, but she ruled out all spontaneous ignition and has sent the evidence to the labs. It’ll take a few weeks, but she’s classified the fire as arson, yes.”

Lahela leaned into Briggs’s side and he could feel her shaking.

“Ms. Young, we have officers bringing Trevor West in for questioning, and if we find out he’s responsible, we’ll have enough for you to file a protective order against him.”