“I expect to have a clearer picture in the next day or so,” Briggs added gently. “I know that this is overwhelming. “It’s important that you stay somewhere safe.”
Days. That seemed like a lifetime and also nothing. I thought of the tiny things at my house that mattered: pictures, Gram’s old mixer, the afghan she had knit. Herwill hadn’t been filed … exactly. She’d written it out, but nobody had actually questioned things. There’d been nobody else.
“Briggs,” Wade said, softer, “if you find someone on our list, do me a favor. Handle it quietly. Don’t make a spectacle of our town.”
“We work quietly,” Briggs smirked. “That’s how we do business. I’ll meet you at the cottage.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go, sugar.” East steered me to the door. The air outside was damp, and the chill cut a little deeper now.“You good to go?”
“It was dark last night, and maybe it isn’t as bad as I’m imagining. I’ll feel better when I know what I’m dealing with.” That’s what I was hoping anyway. Perhaps it was just the flames exaggerating everything, and the damage was minor.
He opened the passenger door and let me scoot in, pausing as he handed me the seatbelt, brushing his thumb along my knuckle. “I’m sorry for bringing up Derek. That was an asshole move. It wasn’t my place.”
There was the urge to excuse it and say that it was okay, but I didn’t. That was the version of Lila that lived with Derek. That wasn’t who I was. “You’re right. It wasn’t your place. There were things with him that I wasn’t ready to talk about yet. It was an asshole move.” I trapped his hand with mine and gave it a small caress back, unable to keep myself from letting him know how glad I was that he was there with me. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, sugar.” He brushed his lips against mine. “Let’s get going then, and you can putme to work. It looks like I have some things to make up to you. Remember that I mentioned that I’m new to this stuff.” He gave me a sad look. “I promise I’ll work hard to improve.”
I could settle on that. Actions over words were what I was looking for. That was what would matter to me. We’d see.
29
Easton
Predictably, I was already mucking this whole thing up. Wade had given me a look of disgust as soon as I’d opened my mouth and asked about Derek, and Lila had taken her hand out of mine. As soon as his name had left my lips, I knew I’d fucked up.
Shocking?
Not really.
Hopefully, I could turn this around.
Even from a block away, the faint smell of smoke hung acrid in the damp air.
The cottage came into view, tucked behind rhododendrons, beaten down by rain and hydrangeas, bowed low with water. It should have looked quaint, safe. Instead, smoke stains streaked the siding of the back part of thehouse, curling under the eaves like blackened fingers, making it look sinister.
Beside me, Lila sat stiff, hands clenched together in her lap, her face turned toward the window. She looked like she was bracing for impact. Every line of her shoulders told the same story—something precious was about to be taken from her, and she was already bracing for it.
I killed the engine and stepped into the rain. The gravel crunched under my boots as I walked around to her side. She sniffed a little, pulling her jacket tight around her, her movements hesitant, as if she was forcing each one.
Letting her slide against me, I pressed a kiss into her hair before taking her hand in mine, looking up and down the street for any sort of whack jobs that shouldn’t be here.
Briggs pulled up behind us, climbing out with a Stetson set on his head, eyes sharp, every inch the professional he’d been brought here to be. He gave me a short nod before turning his attention back to his surroundings.
“I have the report from the fire department. You’re clear to go in,” Briggs said. “Fire stayed contained, mostly to the back of the house, and it didn’t spread into other areas. That’s good.” He hummed a little as he looked at it. “The mud room and back porch are a no-go. The fire chief has them roped off. Still, the back of the kitchen is rough with water damage, according to Wade.”
Lila let out a breath, thin and shaky, as we opened up the front door, and the smell hit like a fist—wet ash, charred wood, melted plastic. The smell clung to everything, and I knew from experience that it wasn’t one to let go easily. Smoke was a bitch to clean, but I wouldn’t say itout loud to Lila. Then there was all the water from fighting the fire. Even shit that wasn’t on fire got ruined.
Beside me, she took a sharp inhale as she walked through the living room. The cottage was small and had a pretty open concept. It was cute as a button. Well, not now. Smoke smeared the back walls in the kitchen, and there was a gaping hole where the mudroom connected to the house. Pools of sooty water lay everywhere. It was a mess.
Lila’s steps stuttered and faltered. Her hand grazed her grandmother’s chair, pausing there as if the fabric might steady her. I caught the sound of her breath catching, quiet but sharp. She looked even younger today, dressed down in leggings and the hoodie Sage had drummed up for her. No less beautiful, even though I could tell that she was still tired and drawn from the stress.
“This can be repaired,” I told her. The truth was harsher, but what she needed now was steadiness. “Walls scrubbed, cabinets replaced, floors sanded. Smoke takes time, but it can be done.” The truth was the kitchen would need to be gutted. Drywall. The lot.
She turned to me, eyes wide and uncertain, as if not sure whether to believe me. God, I wanted to tell her I’d rebuilt worse. That I wasn’t going to let her carry this alone. But the words locked tight in my throat. What slipped free was simpler. “I’ll fix it. It’ll be okay.”
Her gaze lingered on mine a fraction too long. Something flickered there, but she pulled her hand back. Fingers brushed mine in retreat, and the loss of that touch burned hotter than the fire had.
Briggs’ voice carried from back near where the smallback porch should have been. “Origin near the steps out here. Accelerant used along the floor. Intentional.” He said it plain, almost casual, which somehow made it worse.
