If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

by Shiloh Walker

  “You don’t want to see.” There was something in his voice … something strained, she realized.

  It made a shiver of cold race down her spine for reasons she couldn’t understand.

  “Why not?” Nia asked, ignoring the voice that whispered, Leave it alone.

  Ezra studied her face with narrowed eyes. “Did you come out here to talk about your cousin or study my wedding picture? I’m just curious.”

  “The case. But now I’m curious why you think I shouldn’t see the picture.” She ambled up to the desk, reaching out, slowly, deliberately.

  Ezra didn’t stop her as she traced a finger down the smooth crystal, then lifted it. It was the fancy sort of frame somebody would buy as a wedding gift—heavy and solid and expensive.

  “It will hurt you,” Ezra said quietly. He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “I promise you that.”

  Then he shifted his gaze to hers, and once more, she saw the compassion there. Swallowing, she tugged away from his grasp, still holding the picture. At first, her brain couldn’t quite process what she was seeing. Not at first.

  It was a trick—had to be. The framed picture was a collage. The largest image was like a punch straight to her gut and she almost doubled over from the pain.

  The second image showed the woman with her back to the photographer, a pale, smooth back. That alone had Nia biting her lip, hard enough to draw blood. It’s not her, girl. It’s not her, it’s not Joely … it’s not, it’s not … Her back, long and slim, left bare by her wedding dress. Nia could see her shoulders, and they were unmarked, pale as porcelain.

  No butterfly tattoo.

  The strength drained out of Nia’s legs and if the sheriff hadn’t come around the desk, she might have ended up on her ass, right there on the floor.

  He caught her arm, eased her back. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, catching the frame as it slipped from her numb fingers.

  “Who … who is that?”

  “It’s my wife,” he said gently.

  Nia lifted her head, staring at him, feeling so battered, so drained. “Your … your wife. She’s your wife.”

  “Yeah. I can’t imagine how much it hurts. When I—when I first saw the picture of your cousin, I couldn’t quite get over it myself. That’s why I didn’t really want you seeing her picture.”

  “She—I, well.” Nia nodded, pressed her lips together. “I can see the differences, but it’s spooky.”

  “You’re telling me.” Ezra grimaced. Then he paused, studying her face. “Are you okay? Do you need a drink?”

  “Fuck, no.” She winced and muttered, “Sorry. I can’t put anything in my stomach, though. I’d puke all over the floor.”

  “Okay.” He leaned back against the desk, setting the picture down, angled away so Nia couldn’t see it.

  Not that it mattered. She wasn’t likely to forget there was a woman out there who was almost her cousin’s twin. A woman who lived in this town where her cousin had died.

  This was too much—She wanted out of here. Now.

  But she wouldn’t do that. Not until she’d done what she came for. She’d come for a reason and Nia didn’t walk just because things got hard. She didn’t do it.

  Taking a deep breath, she reached into her bag and pulled out the folder. “I know whoever took over after Sheriff Nielson died says they closed the case. But it doesn’t sit right with me. I can’t buy it. Something … shit. I don’t know, it’s like there are pieces missing from the puzzle and until I’ve got those pieces, I can’t find whatever so-called closure I’m supposed to find to get on with my life. So … well, I’ve been digging around.”

  Ezra narrowed his eyes. “Digging around how?”

  “Online, mostly. Phone calls, sometimes. People give me information—providing I don’t do anything with it.” She gave him a tight smile. “I know people. I’m a photojournalist. For a while, I thought I wanted to be an investigative reporter, but then I figured out I preferred to capture the story from behind the camera. And I’m better at it. Still, I’ve got decent instincts and I know people. Called in some favors.”

  She licked her lips and looked down at the folder. The one holding the information on Kathleen Hughes. With a shaking hand, she held it out to the sheriff, watched as he took it. But as he flipped it open, she looked away, unable to watch his face. “I’ve been following up on missing persons reports and women who’ve been assaulted and murdered. Nothing really clicked with anybody until I saw her. She doesn’t really fit the profile right. She doesn’t look anything like my cousin. She was younger, into parties, living hard. If I had been looking to connect them, I never would have.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him flipping through it.

  “So why did you?” he asked, his voice absent, distracted.

  She wasn’t fooled. When she shot a look at him, she could tell he was taking in everything. Everything about the victim—about the information in his hands.

  She saw the exact moment he found what had jumped out at her—what had made her connect things. And then she waited for him to tell her she really needed to let go … to move on her with her life.

  Instead, he cocked his head and plucked the report out, reading it over a second time.

  “Her hair was cut,” he murmured. He flicked a glance at her.

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “Not all of it—the guy probably didn’t want to get anything on him. Looks like …”

  “He messed her up good,” Nia said, shrugging. “I’m not delicate, Sheriff King. I’ve seen a number of dead bodies, more than I care to remember. But I’m not delicate. She would have had blood and brain tissue all over her. If he’d been found hauling that around …”

  “Wouldn’t be wise,” Ezra murmured.

  “There’s more,” she said quietly.

  He flipped it over and when he came to the part where a roommate mentioned a bracelet missing, his eyes narrowed.

  “She was wearing some pretty expensive bling—the bracelet was made custom for her, although it wouldn’t have been obvious at first—it was engraved on the inside with the words, For my angel,” Nia said.

  She hadn’t known about that until she talked to the woman’s roommate a few days later. It had been inscribed with For my angel—it had been a gift from an old boyfriend, the doctor in Detroit. She’d dropped the boyfriend, kept the bling. Nia had gotten a few more details from the roommate as well—the bracelet wasn’t one of a kind, but there were two details that might as well make it that way.

  It had been inscribed and set with a stone … on the inside. A sapphire, a small one.

  Kathleen’s birthstone. Apparently the doctor had wanted her to have something unique—she’d wanted the bracelet, but he’d wanted it to be special for her. But Nia kept that bit of information quiet.

  “You can see that she had on some pretty expensive jewelry. Some earrings worth two or three hundred, at least. A necklace that would have sold for three or four. A mess of rings. The only thing missing was the diamond bracelet.”

  “She wasn’t mugged, then.” Ezra nodded absently, still studying the report.

  “No.”

  Slowly, Ezra blew out a breath and laid the report facedown on the folder. Then he looked at her. “I can’t say I blame you, still following up on this—if she’d been my cousin, I don’t know that I could let it go, either. And I can also see why this is screaming at you. But it might not mean anything. There was good, solid evidence on Joe Carson.”

  Nia tilted her head, holding his gaze. “I’ve also been following things that have taken place around here. Law Reilly’s girlfriend was set up, made to look like she’d attacked him. Although that mouse couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Girlfriend … mouse …” Ezra shook his head. “You’re talking about Hope, I assume. She’s not his girlfriend, and Nia? That girl might be quiet, but she’s not a mouse.”

  Nia shot him a scowl. “Keep up, okay? Somebody leaves my cous
in’s body on Reilly’s property. It’s pretty clear to me that somebody is … or at least was screwing with law enforcement, doing whatever they could to throw people off the trail. Who is to say this isn’t just more of that?”

  Ezra stared at her. His green eyes were hard and flat.

  And although he didn’t say it, she saw something in his eyes.

  He had a good game face, but she could read people … and she knew what she saw in his eyes.

  He was worried, all right—worried about just that.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  EDGY AND RESTLESS, LAW LEFT LENA AND ROZ IN THE café while he headed down to the post office. There was no real reason for him to go down there. Hope had already been out there this morning, but he couldn’t stay in the café, either. He needed to get out of the crush in there—seemed like half the damn town had shown up.

  Roz was chattering on about a couple of weddings she had coming up, Lena was talking new menus. If he had to hear any more inane chatter about roses, champagne brunches, and the like, he was going to go stark, raving mad.

  Or maybe he was already getting there.

  Normally, he could tune them out, talk with Carter, or just zone, focus on one of the books, something, anything besides the chatter—hell, there had been a time when just being with Lena had been enough for him.

  That had changed. Shit, everything had changed, and not just because she was married, and not just because he realized he wasn’t in love with her.

  He was edgy and he didn’t really know why.

  He was edgy and he couldn’t focus on writing, couldn’t focus on anything.

  He was edgy … restless, like something was nipping at his heels.

  As he passed by the sheriff’s department, he absently glanced toward it. Sometimes he still half-expected to see Nielson striding out of there—he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to not seeing that guy.

  As he went to look away, though, he found himself freezing.

  Doing a double take.

  Shit.

  It was her.

  Nia.

  Nia Hollister.

  Fuck …

  The air dwindled down out of his lungs. At the same time, he felt his heart start to race in his chest. Shit. Son of a bitch. What in the hell …

  That was when he noticed Ezra, walking along beside her.

  Ezra caught sight of him and then he glanced past him, toward the café. Something dark flashed through the other man’s eyes—something Law couldn’t quite define. Worry. Nerves.

  What the fuck … he didn’t care about Ezra. She was here. What was she doing here?

  As they came to a stop in front of Law, he stared at her, into those pale golden eyes.

  “Hey, Law.” Ezra gave him a tight smile. “You heading back to the café?”

  He shrugged. “In a bit. They’re still talking—some big wedding coming up.” He needed to quit watching her. She was busy looking anywhere but at him and he was going to look like more of an ass than he probably already did, but he couldn’t quit staring. “Hi, Nia.”

  She slanted a look at him. “Mr. Reilly.”

  “Law.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, glanced between her and Ezra. “What brings you back to Ash?”

  She shrugged, still not looking at him. Then finally, her shoulders rising and falling on a sigh, she met his eyes. “Personal business, Mr. Reilly.”

  “Law,” he said again.

  Ezra glanced past him again, toward the café, then met Law’s gaze. “Ah … Nia, can you give me a second?”

  She shrugged.

  Law scowled as Ezra grabbed his shoulder and all but dragged him about fifteen feet away. “Get back to the café and keep Lena in there.”

  Law glared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Damn it, would you just do it? I’ll explain later.”

  Curling his lip at him, Law jerked his arm away. “What’s the matter, you getting bored with marriage already?”

  “What … are you nuts?” Ezra stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

  Law wasn’t so sure he hadn’t. But he had a very hard time thinking clearly around Nia—something he’d demonstrated the one time he’d been around her before now. Rubbing his temple, he shook his head and glanced back at the café, then at Nia. “What’s the deal, Ezra?”

  “Would you stop being so fucking obvious and just get to the café?” Ezra asked. “Please? I’ll explain—shit.”

  Nia was sauntering toward them.

  That look in her eyes—a glint of trouble, sparking there like an ember. She glanced from Law to Ezra, then down the street. A grim smile curled her lips and she walked right past them—straight toward the café.

  “Shit,” Ezra muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he shot Law a glare. “Could you have been a little more obvious?”

  “What?”

  Ezra just shook his head and muttered under his breath as he started along behind Nia.

  “Damn it, what in the hell is going on?”

  Ezra shot him a narrow glance and then stopped. “Nia’s cousin.”

  “What about her?”

  Ezra glanced up as Nia started across the street. “She looks enough like Lena that they could have been twins. I’d hoped … well. Hell. Doesn’t matter now.”

  The second she stepped foot inside the café, Nia knew why the sheriff hadn’t wanted her in there. The woman sat along the back wall, a pair of black glasses shielding her face.

  From across the room, the similarity was eerie—the same deep, gleaming hair, although this woman’s might have a little more red. The same clear, milk-pale skin. The shape of the face, the mouth.

  So much like Joely.

  Nia stared at her, hard, fast. Part of her wanted to hope, to pray … wanted to think maybe it was Joely, even though she knew better.

  But it was easier, for that moment, to just pretend.

  Look at me …

  If the woman would look at her, then maybe Nia could quit pretending. Maybe. She’d have to face reality, have to take that stab to the heart, accept it, and move on. But she continued to chat with her friend, some blond lady, totally oblivious of Nia standing there, with her heart lodged in her throat, and her heart aching, breaking …

  Just then the bell over the door jangled. And the dog lying by the redhead’s feet sat up. Until that moment, Nia hadn’t even seen the dog. Now it was staring at the door, tail waving back and forth.

  Apparently, something about it caught his owner’s attention, too, because now the woman’s face was turned toward them.

  That was when Nia realized Lena King couldn’t see her.

  “Your wife’s blind,” she said as Ezra came to stand beside her.

  “Yeah, I think somebody mentioned that to me somewhere. Look, Nia, you don’t need to do this to yourself.”

  She swallowed. “You know, if I’d seen her on the street, it would have been harder.”

  “Not very likely. You don’t live around here,” Reilly muttered.

  She glanced at him, then at Ezra. No. She didn’t live around here. But she wasn’t leaving, either. Not until she found out something—more of that indefinable, insubstantial closure. Which meant the likelihood of her running into Lena King on the streets was higher than they thought.

  But they didn’t need to know that. Yet.

  Slipping back outside, she started to walk. Blindly. She didn’t know exactly where she was going; she just needed to get away from there. Ideally, she’d like to be very, very far away, but there was no way she could leave. Even if she was willing, and she wasn’t, she couldn’t very well ride just then.

  The tears blinded her so that she wouldn’t even be able to see the road.

  “Why do I get the feeling she’s not leaving town?” Ezra muttered to himself as he watched Nia stalk out of the café.

  Then he glanced toward Lena. She was gazing his way expectantly—Roz had pointed him out after Puck had noticed him, catching Lena’s atten
tion. “I’m going to say hi—and do me a favor, yank your head out of your ass and don’t mention Nia. Lena doesn’t need to know she …”

  “Know what?” Law asked, his mouth twisting in a wry smile. “Need to know you were talking to a beautiful woman or that your beautiful wife looks just like her dead cousin …? Which don’t you want her knowing?”

  Ezra glared at him. “Again, take your head out of your ass and figure it out. What in the hell is your problem, anyway?”

  As Ezra headed over to his wife, Law rubbed the back of his neck and wished he could figure it out. Shit. That woman—she came around and his brain went the way of the caveman. He stopped being able to think.

  Hell, why was he acting like he’d caught Ezra and Nia going at it? He knew better. Ezra would cut off his arm before he’d hurt Lena like that. Swearing, he glanced out the door. Saw Nia pacing aimlessly around the square.

  Then, without a backward glance, he slipped outside.

  He just needed to talk to her. A minute. Without anybody else, see if maybe he could manage to get his brain cells functioning on any level resembling normal.

  She should have known she couldn’t be alone.

  Not in Small Town USA. Or Ash, Kentucky, as it were. Ash, Kentucky, was the epitome of Small Town USA, too. And there, damn it, was the epitome of some things that could go very, very right in Small Town USA, she guessed, watching as Law Reilly ambled her way, that loose, easy gait, all lean, long limbs, the sunlight glinting off his hair

  Damn. He was pretty, she thought, the observation winging up out of the blue to catch her off guard. She had an eye for attractive or appealing types—it was just part of her job. He was definitely attractive and appealing. Usually, neither one was enough to hit her low in the gut, though. Something about him did—hit her low and hard, making her go all warm and tingly.

  Except she didn’t have a right to be feeling this way, and she knew it. Pushing it aside, she tried to focus on anything but those warm tinglies. It was harder than she’d thought it would be, considering her ex-boyfriend hadn’t made her feel much of anything.

  His hair had grown out since the last time she’d seen him. Almost down to his collar, and shot through with threads of gold, darker strands of brown. Nice hair, she thought. Nice face … nice eyes. Nice everything, really.