If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (13 page)

Keith gave him a dark look. At the same time, he smacked Ethan on the back of the head. “I’m not chasing after anybody,” he said, his voice stiff and formal. “And don’t we have things to talk about?”

Ezra laughed. “Sure. What do you want to talk about, loverboy?”

“Hey, I saw that woman—Nia, Nia Hollister—a few days ago. Up at the Grill,” Ethan said, swiping his scrambled eggs through some ketchup before he popped them in his mouth.

“Your wife know you still go down there flirting?”

Ethan hunched his shoulders. “Ain’t flirting. Just shooting pool, having a few drinks. She knows I wouldn’t do anything.” He shot Kent a narrow look. “I heard Kent had a few drinks with her last night.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “I didn’t have drinks with her. She was there and I was there. It’s not like there are a whole lot of choices around here if you don’t want frozen food. Plus, it’s close to the hotel where she was staying.”

At the other end of the table, one of the night deputies, Craig Dawson, glanced up, his eyes bleary, a heavy growth of stubble on his narrow face. “You talking about that Hollister lady? Shit, she’s hot. I saw her out
with Reilly the other night—they were …” His words trailed off, but the grin on his face did a pretty good job filling in the blanks. He paused long enough to take a drink of coffee and added, “I thought I might have to arrest them for indecent exposure—although it was one hell of a show.”

“Pervert,” Keith muttered, shaking his head.

Dawson smirked. “You’re just jealous you don’t get to see the good shit.”

“Yeah, knocking on windows when kids start getting hot and heavy down at the park, that sounds like my idea of a good time,” Keith muttered with a curl of his lip.

Kyle Mabry leaned forward. “Hell, I saw Hollister and she ain’t no kid.” Although he was only in his early forties, he was already bald, his body built solid as a brick wall, and his face was perpetually red, like he’d spent too much time in the sun. Good-natured and easygoing, Mabry also liked to take things apart, piece by piece, Ezra had learned.

He should have known Mabry would be the one to ask.

“So how come she’s here, anyway, Sheriff?” Kyle asked. “What’s she doing back in Ash? Not like there’s any reason for her to be here, and you’d think she’d want to put this whole mess behind her.”

Ezra made a noncommittal sound and shrugged. Yeah. One would think that. But Nia wasn’t about to put this whole mess behind her. She couldn’t.

“Her business here is her own,” he said as more and more gazes swung his way. Ignoring the question would just draw more attention to it, he guessed, but for reasons he didn’t completely understand, he was reluctant to voice Nia’s reasons for being here to everybody. Keith knew. And Lena.

That was it.

There were a few in the department who had likely guessed, and more who
would
guess, the longer she hung around, but he wasn’t going to confirm it. Not just yet.

“Doesn’t much matter,” Ethan said, scooping another bite of ketchup-drenched eggs into his mouth. “Leslie’s sister, she works weekends at the hotel, and guess who checked out today?”

“Nia didn’t leave town.” Kent popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“She checked out of the hotel,” Ethan pointed out.

Natalie appeared at the table just then. “Y’all talking about Nia?”

“Yeah. She’s leaving, though.”

“No, she’s not,” Natalie said, shaking her head. She glanced at Keith, brushed a hand along his shoulders as she refilled his coffee cup.

Keith reached up, returned the caress, all without looking at her.

Natalie continued to talk. “She’s already checked in over at the Inn—subletting one of the cabins that Roz doesn’t use much.”

“Really?” Ethan’s brows shot up.

Ezra glanced up at Natalie.

She grinned. “Hey, I hear things.” Then she wagged her eyebrows. “You know one of my sisters helps Roz with the cleaning—she was out there when Nia checked in. Mentioned it when she called a few minutes ago to see if I wanted to go to Lexington with her later.”

Natalie took his order and as she paused by another table, he heard somebody else asking about Nia—that poor girl, how awful it must be for her. Beth Caudill, one of Deb’s cronies. No doubt everybody who
didn’t
know about Nia’s change in location, well, they’d know by lunchtime. Five o’clock at the latest.

The small-town grapevine, Ezra thought, amused. Nothing quite like it.

She hadn’t left.

Outwardly, he chatted, made small talk, things he’d done all his life.

He ate his breakfast, even asked for a second helping of pancakes. He drank three cups of coffee, expressed his concern about the possibility of a super Walmart that might or might not be built over in Oakfield. He listened to the women gossip, the men complain, and did his own share, as well.

But all the while, on the inside, he brooded. Nia Hollister hadn’t left.

And not only had she not
left
, she’d settled down at the Inn … in one of the cabins. Those cabins were a more long-term arrangement than a vacation-type stay.

If she was staying there …

Fuck.

This was not good.

The Inn was just a few miles from Law’s place, just as the deputy had promised. Kent had given her directions, a phone number, even told her to use his name—
I’m a cousin, sort of
.

Nia was starting to think half the town was a Jennings, or a
cousin, sort of
.

By midmorning that Saturday, she had a better place to stay—a cabin, with a kitchenette, for roughly a little less than she’d be paying at home. That was going to kill her savings, if she didn’t find somebody to sublet her place. Not that it was going to be an issue—finding somebody.

Settling in, though, as expected took awhile.

After all, she had to buy stuff. Especially since Nia didn’t plan on going anywhere just yet—not until she
found some of the answers she needed. She had to get food. Had to call back home, see about that subletting deal—yeah, she’d already gotten the ball rolling, but still, checking in never did hurt, right? She also needed to get a friend to go in and send her some more clothes and stuff.

And no, she wasn’t procrastinating—why should she? It wasn’t like she was
obligated
to go out and see Law.

Even though she wanted to. Even though she
needed
to, longed to …

There was just other stuff she needed to do. Other, important stuff, stuff that allowed her to … think. Think about the fact that she wasn’t sure she was equipped to deal with him, or the fact that he made her brain shut down, even as he made her heart ache, like no other guy had ever managed to do.

Think about the fact that she was here for one reason—one reason alone, and it had nothing to do with him. Once that was done, she’d leave.

So did she really need to get involved with him?

Probably not.

Not that it kept her from thinking about him …

Law swiped the towel over his face as he came back inside.

Catching sight of a familiar head of hair in the office he’d set up in his living room, he scowled.

Waiting until he could say something without gasping, he just glared.

A minute passed before Hope lifted her head and smiled beatifically at him.

“Hi.”

“It’s Saturday,” he said, pointedly.

“Yes. And tomorrow is Sunday. After that? Monday. Then Tuesday. Just think, they said we’d never use the stuff we learned in school, but here we are, using those
basic skills we learned in kindergarten,” she drawled, grinning at him so that a dimple flashed in her cheek.

“I don’t pay you to work on weekends.” Shit, he didn’t exactly pay her an hourly wage, period. And it wasn’t like he cared—he just wasn’t in the mood to put up with anybody today. Except maybe … no. Wasn’t thinking about that, about her. Wasn’t thinking about that rain check he hadn’t cashed in.

Hope smirked. “You pay me on salary—doesn’t matter when I get the job done, as long as I get it done. And the work is piling up since you have a book coming out in a couple of weeks, and a deadline. Figured I’d get a jump on the e-mail and the stuff you need mailed.”

Shit, the book. He’d all but forgotten it. What the hell?

Sweat trickled down his back, but the tension Law had hoped to burn off during the run remained, lurking just under his skin, an edgy, greedy beast. Setting his jaw, he studied the work Hope had already piled around her—settling in. “Don’t you have plans with your hotshot lawyer?”

She shrugged. “No. He got called in for something or other and I didn’t feel like hanging around the apartment.” Cocking a brow at him, she asked, “Is there a problem?”

Shit
.

Law sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “No. I just … no. Edgy. Pissed. Distracted.”

“Grouchy?” she offered, helpfully.

He grunted. “I’m going to go shower, get some work done. You do whatever you feel like messing with.”

“Hmmm.” Hope had already shifted her attention to the stack of work in front of her. He barely knew what it was. He knew what she
did
—in theory. He’d done it for years, but ever since she’d taken over all the chores
that went along with writing, his life had gotten a lot easier. She’d streamlined the process and he didn’t even have to think about a lot of it anymore.

He was already dreading the day he lost her, and he was so worried it would happen—would Remy want her to quit? Not that it made any sense or anything, but still. And it was easier to think about that than the other shit crowding his mind.

Like Nia—the rain check.

Fuck.

He’d made up his mind yesterday he wasn’t thinking about her. Wasn’t going to go down that road right now. No. Not right now, because until he had some sort of handle on what he was feeling, how he was going to deal with it, the last thing he needed to do was think about her—especially when he was this on edge.

Because he was all too likely to storm back to the hotel and finish what they hadn’t been able to finish. Damn it all. There came a point in time when cold showers, perseverance, and even a little old-fashioned self-service just didn’t do the trick.

Law was well past that point.

The nightmare came.

In the pretty little cabin, in a bed far softer than anything a budget hotel, even a nice, privately owned budget hotel could provide, the nightmare found her.

Trapped in the woods.

Nia ran … but she was no longer Nia. She thought perhaps she was Joely.

But she wasn’t sure. She only knew she was afraid. And desperate. So desperate. Desperate to live. Desperate to escape the nightmare that chased her. Desperate to escape that evil.

He laughed. He mocked her.

Pain tore through her.

Shuddering, biting, clawing—it flooded and surrounded, encompassing her entire being.

But worse than the pain was the fear. And the knowledge.

She wouldn’t live through this.

She knew. He would kill her.

“Fuck …”

Nia jerked upright, all but sobbing for breath.

Tears burned her eyes and she fought free of the blankets. A cold sweat left her chilled, left her aching, left her burning. She could almost feel the sting of the branches on her flesh, smacking into her as she ran headlong through the woods.

Shit, shit, shit, shit
.

Scrubbing her hands over her eyes, Nia swallowed the knot in her throat, tried to brush it off. A dream. Just a dream. Nothing more.

Determined to shrug it off, and knowing that she’d never sleep, Nia made her way to the dresser where she’d stored her meager supply of clothes. There sure as hell wasn’t much to choose from, but she had what she needed—including workout clothes.

What she needed right now was a hard, driving run—something that would exhaust her and wipe that dream from her mind.

With that in mind, she changed. It took her less than five minutes to hit the door. She was halfway down the cobbled sidewalk that wrapped around the property when she ran into Roz—her temporary landlady.

Roz gave her a smile. “Wow. You’re an early riser.”

“Can’t sleep,” Nia replied, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. “Was going to try a run, see if it cleared my head.”

“Running to clear the head? Oh, honey … just try coffee. Lots of it.” She stood up, brushing the dirt from
her knees and stretching her back. “Early mornings aren’t meant for exercise.”

“Well, I’d rather run than garden.” Nia glanced at the tools spread around the other woman.

Roz laughed, stripping her gloves off. She tossed them down on the little green bench—it was a strange looking contraption, Nia thought, but what did she know?

“Gardening isn’t so bad, once you get it going.” Absently, she toyed with her necklace and shrugged. “It’s just the getting it going that’s a pain.”

“And the weeding. Fertilizing … whatever you have to do.” Nia made a face. “No, thanks.” She gestured toward the main road and said, “You figure the road’s okay for my run?”

“Should be, especially this early. We’ve got other crazy people who like to run and most of the people around here are courteous enough drivers.” She tugged her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. “The kitchen doesn’t open until lunchtime, but there’s a continental breakfast every day. You’re welcome to grab you some coffee or something if you need it. It’s not included in your rent, but I imagine you haven’t had time to stock up on basics or anything.”

“Thanks.” Nia forced herself to smile before she turned and headed for the road, determined to run that dream out of her head—to outrun that nasty, clinging evil, the fear.

The run didn’t do it. Two cups of coffee and a shower didn’t help much either. The dream clung like the nasty dregs of a hangover.

In desperation, Nia did something she hadn’t done in years.

She went to church. Her parents had been devout believers. Nia, not so much. But there was a peace she
often found within the walls of a church, and right then, more than anything, she needed that.

Something,
anything
to wipe those images from her mind.