Page 112 of Cornered

Trevor looked upset and scared. And like he wanted to say something else but changed his mind. He gave her a nod and then disappeared around the corner of her house.

“Let me get a look at that.” Mr. Dunn was at her side. He carefully pulled her cut hand from the shirt, and she looked away. “Looks like you might need stitches.”

“Really?”

“Come on.” He closed her back door and then started leading her around the house. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“No, that’s okay. I can drive.” Probably.And bleed out in my car.That thought made her feel a little lightheaded.

“Nonsense. You’re hurt and I’m going to take care of you.”

Briggs’s words about accepting help returned, and she relaxed. “Thanks.”

They walked across the street and up his driveway, and Lahela paused. “Why is Janine’s car covered?”

“Oh”—he opened his front door and ushered her inside—“it’s supposed to rain today.”

Lahela had never been inside Mr. Dunn’s house, and it was as she expected. The front was divided into a living room and formal dining room. The furnishings looked like they were probably the same ones his wife had chosen when they were married, and the house had a musty smell that tickled her nose.

A painting hung over the mantel of a man, a woman, and a young girl. Assuming it was a family portrait, Lahela had no idea Mr. Dunn had a daughter.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Lahela smiled but wasn’t sure if he was referring to his wife or the girl. “Is that your daughter?”

He handed her a thin towel for her hand and nodded. “Crystal. She was the light of our lives.”

Was?Lahela looked around the living room, pausing on each of the framed photos, and noticed there weren’t any with Crystal older than she looked in the painting. Eight or nine maybe.

“I miss her every single day. Both of them.” Mr. Dunn’s voice turned strange, and an uncomfortable feeling settled over her. “You remind me of Crystal.”

In the painting, Crystal had short blond hair, blue eyes, and the same fair skin as her parents. Nothing about them looked the same.

“Obviously, you don’t look like her, but she had a bubbly personality. Like you. Always friendly.” He swallowed and looked at Lahela, but those blue eyes that always seemed fatherly were empty now.

Lahela’s hand began to throb. A pounding that kept cadence with the eerie pounding of her pulse. She moved toward his door, suddenly anxious to get out of there. “Uh, I think I can drive myself to the hospital.”

But Mr. Dunn’s hand was around her arm, squeezing tightly, and she found it weird that the thing she noticed as he dragged her backward was that the blue sky outside didn’t look at all like it was going to rain.

NINETEEN

“SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT.”Briggs secured the latch on the horse trailer. He and Jett had spent almost three hours searching for a man named Joe Smith with no luck. “The man’s name doesn’t even sound real.”

Jett grunted. “Might be. Look.”

Briggs turned to see Barrett Brown marching their way. The man normally had the soft expression of a teddy bear and rarely showed emotion, but from the tight expression creasing his features, Briggs expected steam to come out of his ears.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ve tried calling the number of Jim Smith, the man who called in the missing hiker, and the number’s not working.”

Barrett wiped his brow even though the temperature was barely registering in the sixties. “We’ve accounted for the only vehicle in the parking lot and it doesn’t belong to our hiker.”

“A false call,” Briggs offered. It wasn’t common, but there were times when someone reported a missing hiker only to learn they weren’t missing at all.

“Maybe. It’s almost Halloween, maybe some kids thought this would be a funny joke,” Barrett answered. “I hate this holiday.”

“Not a fan of kids, myself,” Jett added—even though it was clear that wasn’t what Barrett meant.

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