If You Hear Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (30 page)

“Do you have reason to think Ms. Carson might be in danger?” Nielson asked mildly.

“Oh, fuck yeah, do I have reason. But you didn’t answer me. Was she killed in my workshop?”

Nielson opened his mouth and then abruptly he stopped, sighed. “Okay, let’s try it this way. I can’t give you all the answers you want … Ed O’Reilly.”

Law blinked. Then he slumped in the chair and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

Nielson chuckled. “Relax. I don’t plan on plastering it on the front page of the
Daily
. Although it would make great copy, I imagine. But I’ve known what you do for a few years and I haven’t mentioned it yet. Don’t see any point why that needs to change now.”

“A few years?” Law repeated, narrowing his eyes.

“I like knowing what’s going on around my town,” Nielson said, simply. “So here’s the deal. You’re an imaginative guy, a smart one, and you know a bit more about typical police procedure than the average Joe. You understand I can’t tell you everything—you know that. And you also know the more information I have, the quicker I can figure out what’s going on. So … if you’ll tell me what you can, I’ll answer what I can.”

“I’m not answering jackshit unless you tell me whether she was killed on my property,” Law said. He had to know. Had to—hell, he was going to raze that workshop to the ground anyway. But if some psycho had killed a woman in there … fuck, how could he tell Hope? He’d brought her here so she could feel safer … start to heal.

“Okay.” Nielson’s eyes held his. “You understand nothing I tell you leaves this room. I know you’re good friends with Lena Riddle, and you’re probably on a friendly basis with Ezra King. But you tell nobody.”

“I need to know … for me,” Law snapped. “Besides, King was out there. I bet he probably has an idea whether
she was killed there or not, and if you don’t give me an answer, I’ll go ask him, and I just might do it in public where anybody can hear. He’s not too fond of at least one of your boys, Sheriff. Chances are, if I play it right, I can ask in front of Prather and I can do it in a way that Ezra will answer me just to piss Prather off … and you know it.”

“You can be a prick,” Nielson said. Then he sighed. “No. I don’t think she was killed there. I can’t be sure, but my gut says she was killed elsewhere, then placed there.”

It made it a little easier to think about going back to the home he loved. A little.

Not a lot.

Hope stroked a hand down Puck’s back, taking comfort in the warm, solid feel of him. He didn’t seem to mind her touch, but she didn’t think he was overly thrilled with it either.

It was weird the way he changed after Lena had put his harness on. He’d scampered and played around the house like any normal dog, although he’d stayed very, very close to his mistress, but the minute that harness went on, the dog was all business.

Something drifted through her mind and she said abruptly, “I’m not supposed to be petting him, am I?”

Lena smiled at Hope over her shoulder. “Normally … I’d say no.” A stern look crossed her face and she said, “And he knows it, too. When he’s got the leash on, he’s working. But the three of, hell, the four of us—Puck included—have had a shitty twenty-four hours. Just don’t do it outside the car. He likes to test things, especially in new environments, around new people. Just to see how much he can get away with.”

Hope pulled her hand back into her lap, and Puck shifted his big, brown eyes in her direction, giving her a sad doggy stare. Maybe he liked the petting more than
she’d realized. Still, if she wasn’t supposed to be petting him, she wasn’t going to. “Don’t give me that look,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You’re on the clock.”

In the front seat, Ezra smiled a little. She was more at ease around the dog than anybody else, he’d noticed.

“Think Law’s done with Nielson yet?” Lena asked softly.

He shrugged. “Probably. Nielson doesn’t think he did it—this is just procedure, but he’s got to cover all the bases anyway.” He hesitated for a minute and then said, “I want to have something to eat in town.”

Lena grimaced and touched a hand to her belly. “Ezra, I can’t eat. I can’t.”

“I’m not hungry,” Hope said.

Ezra glanced at her in the rearview mirror and she looked away. “But I don’t mind drinking some coffee or something.”

He focused on the road and said, “I’m not hungry, either. But I still want us to sit down somewhere with Law. Someplace public.”

Something in his voice must have caught Lena’s attention.

“Why?” she asked.

She had her shaded lenses on and he couldn’t very well study her face while he was driving, but he didn’t have to see her face to know she was probably looking at him with suspicion in her eyes. Smiling a little, he shrugged.

“I know small-town semantics. Whoever did this is probably just waiting around to see what happens. And that somebody is probably going to be shocked as hell when Law walks out of that sheriff’s station, free and clear.”

Lena nibbled on her lower lip.

“Won’t it be hard to tell if anybody is paying special attention?” Hope asked, her voice nervous and soft. “I mean, this is Small Town, USA, and Law … well, this is
going to sound weird, but I get the feeling that the people around here seem to think Law is half off his rocker anyway. And a dead girl was found at his place—everybody is going to be looking at him.”

A grim smile curled Ezra’s mouth. “I don’t think everybody knows a dead girl was found at his place. Matter of fact, I know not everybody knows. Nielson was keeping that very, very quiet until he’d talked to Law. The cat will probably be out of the bag by later today, but for now …”

There was silence for a few minutes, nothing but the sound of the car speeding along the winding country road. Then Lena broke the silence. “A lot of the people around here do think Law is a little weird—some people think he’s into drugs, and there are a hundred stories to explain how he has the money to afford the place he built, even though he never leaves it for ‘work.’ He has a solid alibi, right? But still, there are going to be people grumbling.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat and sighed. “Poor Law.”

“Nobody who knows him could really think he’d kill somebody,” Hope said.

For once, that uncertainty wasn’t in her voice. There was a thin, unyielding layer of strength there that brought a faint smile to Ezra’s lips. He could tell by looking at her she’d been through hell. But she hadn’t broken—and if what brought that steel to her voice was the defense of a friend? He had to admire that.

“Plenty of people here don’t know Law.” Lena grimaced. “He prefers it that way. Hell, some of the rumors amuse him—I bet he probably feeds half of them, even though he denies it when I ask him about it.”

“The rumors that come out of this won’t amuse him,” Ezra said.

“No. You’re right.” Her scowl darkened, anger bringing
a flush to her face. “I’m damn well not amused right now.”

He reached out and caught her hand, twining his fingers with hers. As they finished the drive into town, she stroked her thumb along the back of his hand.

They were in one hell of a mess, he knew. And everything in him was on edge, alert. It was somehow connected to Lena.

Nothing would happen to her.

Nothing could.

Amazing how somebody he’d known such a short time could already be so necessary to his life.

Friends …

He smiled a little.

Hell, what had he been thinking?

L
AW
R
EILLY WASN
’
T UNDER ARREST
.

How in the fuck had this happened?

Not under arrest
.

A woman’s body found on his property. Turning away from the municipal building, he started to walk. Couldn’t linger. Couldn’t have anybody notice him acting weird.

Well, weirder than normal.

He took a few minutes to duck inside the bookstore, picking up a cup of coffee, a few books he’d ordered in. On the inside, he twitched with nerves, but on the outside, he was calm, collected, carrying on a conversation with Ang as he perused the shelves.

She was a fount of information. Not a gossip like some, but she knew things. Heard things.

As he picked up a paperback, she glanced across the street and said, “Something weird is going on.”

“Huh?” Giving her a vaguely confused look, he glanced up.

“I’m not sure what, but Nielson doesn’t go in on Saturdays unless there’s something major and there are more deputies hanging around than normal.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Something weird.”

“Hmmm.”

Weird was right. So far, he hadn’t heard a damn thing about his girl or Reilly. Somebody should be talking. People talked in a small town and they talked a lot. This sort of thing should have people talking up a virtual storm.

But nobody was. It was like nothing had happened—like nobody knew a damn thing.

Almost like she hadn’t been discovered.

He wasn’t stupid enough to have lingered—he knew better than that. But they did know—the police had discovered the body. For some reason, they were just keeping it quiet.

Keeping a lot of things quiet.

Disgusted, he thought about all the trouble he’d gone to, all the plans he’d made.

All for nothing.

Law Reilly was walking around a free man.

Pretending to read, he watched as Law headed across the street. An unfamiliar dove-gray car, fancy as hell, pulled into a parking spot just a little down from the bookstore and he watched as the doors opened. He didn’t recognize the car, but he recognized the gleaming, dark red of Lena’s hair just fine.

And the cop.

There was a woman with them—unknown … no. He did know her. Or at least he’d seen her.

The little mouse from the other day, her long hair pulled into a ponytail. She wore a T-shirt that swallowed her skinny body and worn, faded jeans. She was the last one out of the car, but the first one to reach Law Reilly, running toward him and as she drew near, the man’s arms opened to enfold her.

So. The little mouse wasn’t just passing through town?

Law pressed his lips to Hope’s forehead and then raised his head and stared into her pale green eyes. She
opened her mouth and he snapped, “If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to get mad.”

“I’m so … um. Okay.”

“Hope, it’s not your fault, none of this. So quit apologizing.” He tugged on her ponytail, like he had done a thousand times in their youth.

“I feel like I’m just supposed to say something,” she mumbled.

He sighed. “Yeah. But there’s not much to say.” He glanced up, looked from Lena to Ezra. “Thank you.”

“Under normal circumstances, I’d tell you I’d deck you if you ever drag me out of bed at one
A.M
. again, but these are pretty abnormal circumstances,” Ezra said, his smile humorless. Then he glanced at Hope. Although nothing showed in his eyes, Law could tell—the cop got it. He understood. “Besides, you had good reason.”

Lena reached out a hand and out of habit, Law caught it. She squeezed his fingers and said, “Was he able to tell you anything?”

“Yeah, just a little bit more than nothing.” He wanted to go home. Shower. He felt dirty, inside and out. “Can we get out of here?”

“Well …” Lena licked her lips and turned her face to Ezra’s.

“I want to hang around town awhile.”

Seeing the way Law’s face tightened, Ezra lifted a hand. Then he dipped his head and murmured in Lena’s ear, “Can you give me a minute? I need to talk to Law without Hope. I don’t want to freak her out any more than she already is.”

“Hmm.” She turned her face to his, touched her lips to his. “I’ll buy that. But you better not be doing this out of some weird desire to coddle me.”

Ezra chuckled. “If I tried to coddle you, I think you might decide to shave me bald while I slept.”

“Oh, now there’s an idea.” She smoothed a hand up his neck and then pushed her fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’d do a tidy job, either.

“Hope, why don’t we head down to the Grapevine? It’s a little coffee and dessert café on the other side of the square. I don’t want much in the way of food, but I could use an iced latte or something.”

As they walked off, Ezra jerked his head toward Law and they started to walk as well, following the same path as the women, but slower. “Nobody knows what happened at your place yet,” he said, keeping his voice low. He slid a pair of sunglasses down over his eyes, even though the day was overcast. “Nielson didn’t want anybody knowing until he’d spoken with you—especially since it looked like it was done to frame you—and a shitty frame, I’ve gotta say. So nobody but the sheriff, his boys, and us know.”

“And the man who killed her,” Law said, his voice harsh.

“Yes. And chances are, that guy is expecting to hear that you’re in jail. He’s probably expecting to hear all sorts of wailing, gnashing of teeth, wringing of hands.”

“You can’t hear people wringing their hands.” Law kicked at a pebble on the ground, watched as it skipped along the surface.

“You get the point. He’s expecting certain reactions … and I bet anything he’s here waiting. Just waiting and watching.”