Page 57 of The Wrong Fiancée

It took me a moment to process their accusations.

"Considering your…relationship and history with the Thatchers, you want to tell us why we found those items in your possession?" Detective Akina, who I could see had already drawn, hung, and quartered me, asked.

I blinked, my mouth dry, my thoughts still stuck in the panic of what was happening. "I don't know."

Damn, Felicity!Framing me for stealing jewelry? God! What would I do if these detectives didn't believe? And one or both of them already hated me; that much was obvious. We survived on tourism in Kauai, which meant that any crime committed against one was given high priority, so I knew why they were being so antagonistic.

They exchanged a glance, the kind that said they didn't believe a word coming out of my mouth.

"Maybe you didn't think anyone would notice a few pieces missing. But trust me, people like the Thatchers notice." This was Detective Palakiko taking over in his pleasant, avuncular voice.

"I didn't steal anything!" I took a deep breath, "My door is always unlocked," I added as if that would solve the problem. The detectives would run to investigate and learn more.

Yeah, so in the real world, they didn't do that kind of thing.

There was a knock on the door and Detective Akina stepped out of the room while Palakiko glowered at me. I didn't show fear. I mean, I was scared, like pee in my panties scared—but I wasn't going to show it. I'd been set up like in a freaking bad episode of some old-fashioned mystery TV show.

When the detective came back, she tilted her head at her partner, and he walked out as well, giving me another nasty stare. It was almost comical, if it wasn't so fuckingreal.

I put my head down on the table as I massaged one wrist andthen the other. Would they give me a phone call? Who would I call? I could ask for a lawyer. I should do that, I decided, buy time. I could call Dante…but what if he believed the Thatchers? Dean? God! I wished Dean was here. He'd come to help me, wouldn't he?

I had been alone since my mother died but never as lonely as now in an interrogation room in the Lihu'e Police Precinct.

The door opened, and I raised my head.

A woman in a sharp, tailored suit strode in, her heels clicking confidently against the floor. She carried an air of authority. The detectives followed her and grabbed the files that were still on the table.

The male detective tried to intimidate me again. "If you know what's good for you, Elika, you should?—"

"Stop talking to my client, Palakiko," the woman said, her voice cold and commanding. "And get out. Trying to scare an itty bitty girl. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. When I tell yourtutu wahineabout this, she's gonna hammer your ass."

This woman knew the detective's grandmother? Who the heck was she?

She set her briefcase on the table, opened it, and pulled out a few papers. "I'm Sara Iona, your counsel," she told me and then stared the detectives down.

I stared at her, dumbfounded. Counsel? I couldn't afford one. But she didn't look at me. Her focus was on the detectives, and the way she squared her shoulders told me she was ready for a fight.

"You didn't have the right to search her cottage," Sara continued, her voice steady. "I don't care if you got the resort general manager's or Elika Hamlet's boss's permission. That cottage is Elika's private rental, and your search was illegal."

The detectives exchanged a look, but I could see the tension creeping into their posture. Sara leaned forward, her voice razor-edged. "Unless you want a lawsuit on your hands, I suggest you stop pressuring my client into confessing to a crime she didn't commit."

The detectives shifted uncomfortably, and after a tense pause, Detective Akina said, "We'll see what the prosecutor says,"

I let out a shaky breath as they left the room, feeling my whole body tremble. The adrenaline was wearing off, and all that was left was the crushing fear, the disbelief. I felt like I had been chewed up and spit out, every part of me raw and exposed.

Sara turned to me then, her expression softening as she sat next to me. "Don't worry," she said gently. "You'll be out of here soon. The prosecutor isn't going to charge you. They have nothing."

I nodded, but my hands were still shaking despite my best efforts to calm myself down. The whole day had been a whirlwind of fear and confusion, and now I didn't even know how to process what had just happened. How did my life get to this point?

The detectives came back, offering one last attempt to intimidate me, but Sara shut them down with a look so sharp it could cut glass. "No more games," she said firmly. "This is over."

When they left for good, Sara took my hands in hers. "It's going to be alright, okay?"

I believed her. She was kind and firm, strong and nice, and I trusted her instantly. There was some relief, but my world was still spinning and the room was closing in on me. I had been accused of something I hadn't done, and for a moment there, I had actually wondered if anyone would believe me. If I'd end up trapped in this nightmare.

Detective Akina came back. She folded her arms and leaned against the door. "The prosecutor will not be pressing charges," she said.

I bit my lower lip.

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