Page 99 of Cornered

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 policetwicetonight 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 toKekoa 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. “Ifit’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.

TEN

EVERYTHING WASdifferent now. Lahela sat in her parked car looking at the home that once made her feel welcomed and safe. A home that she’d believed was full of promises and potential.

Now ... all she saw was the fire and fear. Oh, and the police officer standing watch over the possible crime scene.

When the nightmares wouldn’t let her sleep, she had sat up in bed and began grading papers and working on this week’s teaching schedule. By six, she couldn’t take it anymore and decided to get up, shower, and get ready for church even though she attended the late service at eleven.

The conversation with Captain Riser last night had her feeling restless. He seemed skeptical about Mr. Dunn’s theory of spontaneous ignition and mentioned the possibility of an electrical fire caused by the string lights on the railing, but there was something in his explanation that told her he wasn’t buying that theory either.

Emotion burned the back of her eyes. How had her life become so ... chaotic? Ever since her little brother died, everything in life just felt harder. Like she was always holding her breath, waiting for the next wave to roll and toss her in the ocean of life.

Movement caught her attention, and she spotted Mr. Dunn walking across the street toward her. Lahela picked up her guilt offerings and got out of her car.

“Oh, Mr. Dunn, how are your hands?” It was a silly question when she saw the bandage wrapped around his left hand and the angry red marks on his right forearm. Nope. The Shipleys’ donuts and coffee weren’t going to be enough to ease the guilt that had been haunting her all night. “Mr. Dunn, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? This wasn’t your fault.” The words were a familiar echo of Briggs’s from the night before, but they didn’t squelch the ache in her chest thatyes, this might very well be my fault.“I saw the flames and came to warn you, but then...” Mr. Dunn’s teary gaze moved to what was left of his gift to her. “I thought maybe if I could put the fire out ... I wish I’d been able to get here sooner.”

Lahela’s heart twisted inside her chest.This is my fault.And no apology or glazed donuts were going to make it better, but she didn’t know what else to do. “I wasn’t sure how you’d be feeling this morning, so I brought you breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Should we go to your porch?” Her own porch looked so empty and sad now. Even though she’d had the rockers there for only a day, they had filled the space in a way that made it feel like home.

At his porch, they sat on two chairs, and she set the bag of donuts on a small table but paused when she held out his coffee. “Can you hold this?”

“My right hand isn’t so bad.” But he couldn’t hide the slight wince when he took the coffee from her. “I’m sorry you were forced out of your home. Is the damage bad?”

---