If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

by Shiloh Walker

  Something—there had to be something out here.

  Moving deeper into the woods, her eyes running along the trees, she started down a slope. The trail abruptly veered to the north, away from the lip of a cliff. Cautiously, with a quick glance around, Nia edged off the trail toward that precipice.

  Something … had to be something.

  “No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Not something. Someplace hidden.”

  She kicked at the rocky ground under her feet, an idea brewing in her head. A cave, maybe?

  “A cave,” Nia muttered. Abruptly, she passed a hand over her face and realized she was talking to herself, realized she was standing in the middle of the woods, one hand gripping her gun, and she was talking to herself. “Hidden.”

  She closed her eyes as she ran that idea through her mind.

  And then abruptly, an icy cold chill gripped her. Someplace dark. Hidden. Where he could have kept her alone, trapped, at his mercy.

  In her gut, Nia knew, it had been here. Or someplace close … very close.

  “Where is it, Joely?” she whispered, turning away from the cliff and looking around, her gaze searching, although she didn’t know what she searched for. What … where …

  She squinted, trying to make things out as she started back up the trail.

  And that was when she realized how dark it had gotten. Swearing, she jerked her phone out of her pocket, checked the time.

  Shit.

  She’d been in here for almost two hours—how in the hell had that happened? Fuck. Needed to get out of here. This was not where she wanted to be once the sun went down. She stumbled along the trail, half-tripping in her haste to get out of there.

  She’d be back, though. At some point. She’d be back. And she’d keep looking, too, because there was something here. She knew it … and even as fear pushed her to move faster and faster, she felt like she had finally accomplished something. Even if all she’d mostly done was freak herself out.

  He didn’t go to his place often.

  He wasn’t planning to go there now, but every now and then, he just drove by it … thought about going inside, reliving things.

  Reliving that night.

  When Jolene Hollister had gotten away—

  “What the fuck?” he snarled.

  He came around the corner just in time to see Nia Hollister emerging from the woods. Under the smooth, café au lait brown of her skin she was pale, and even from here he could see how her steps stumbled as she tried to shove her bike closer to the side of the road.

  What in the hell was she doing? His hands started to sweat. He pressed on the gas, thought about pointing the van at her—gunning it. She wouldn’t stand a chance—

  Fuck, what was she doing in the woods?

  A car came blasting down the road, honking at Nia. She flinched, cringed.

  As the driver waved at him, he automatically waved back, a smile plastered on his face. And because he’d been seen, he couldn’t think about doing anything else.

  “Careful,” he reminded himself. “Have to be careful …”

  Swallowing his snarl, he slowed down as she threw a leg over the bike. “Hey there. Ms. Hollister, right?” He rested his arm on the door as he stared at her from inside his van, gave her a friendly smile—the same smile he’d given her cousin, the same smile he’d given Kathleen Hughes, the same smile he’d given Carly Watson and more than a dozen other women … right before he’d lured them to their deaths.

  She just stared at him, her eyes lost in her wan face.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice hollow.

  “You sure? Look kind of pale. Like you seen a ghost.”

  She flinched. Then, looking away, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders before she looked back at him. “I’m fine, sir. Just having some bad moments, that’s all. Got a little too hot, I think.”

  He nodded in understanding. Then, as his rage and worry began to boil out of control, he pressed on the gas. He needed to get out of there now. As he drove away, he kept an eye on his mirrors, watched as she sat there on her bike.

  Just sat there.

  He needed to think … She was prying around just a little too much now. What was she doing in there? Had she found his place? Setting his jaw, he turned on the police scanner and listened, half-expecting to hear a call going out.

  There wasn’t one. Didn’t necessarily mean anything, though. He needed to get out of there. Check and make sure his traps hadn’t been disturbed—he’d know if somebody had been too close.

  He couldn’t have her doing this. She needed to get out of his town. Preferably on her own. Because if she didn’t leave, he’d have to make her leave.

  CHAPTER

  TWELVE

  NO.

  Nothing had been disturbed. Although he could see where she’d been … she’d come within thirty yards of the first trap he’d set up. Not a trap that would have harmed anybody, just enough to let him know somebody had been close.

  This was close, though, far too close. Something had to be done about her, and now. Before she got any fucking nosier. Damn her. Damn that bitch.

  It was almost nightfall by the time he emerged from the woods.

  Full dark by the time he got home. Alone in the silence there, he started to plan. He’d kill her in a heartbeat if he thought he could do it and not bring suspicion back onto her cousin’s death. But it would—that was why she was here.

  Worse, Ezra Fucking King knew it, Law Fucking Reilly knew it. He couldn’t kill her without alerting them.

  So he had to find another plan.

  Needed to get her away from here …

  * * *

  To her surprise, nightmares didn’t plague her sleep. Although Nia would have thought after the day she’d had, she’d have so many nightmares—she even feared going to sleep. But after two A.M., she couldn’t fight it any longer and her body crashed. She slept deep, dreamless …

  But then, something jerked her awake.

  She lay there, heart racing, adrenaline crashing through her, and terror was a living breathing beast in her gut.

  She didn’t even know what woke her. She only knew something was wrong.

  The room was dark—too dark—and quiet. So quiet.

  A strange, skittering sound came from by the window.

  She swallowed, staring at it.

  The lights—last night, there had been light outside the cabin—just those silly decorative lights that did no good at all, but it was better than nothing, right?

  But they weren’t there now and nothing was all she had, nothing but the silvery moonlight, shining around a … hand.

  Nia’s breath froze inside her lungs.

  Hissing out a breath, she jerked up in the bed. Automatically, she went to turn on the light. But then the hand moved, and she swallowed the whimper in her throat. A shadow eased in—tall, at least he seemed tall … distorted by the window, by the light of the moon.

  Oh, hell—

  Swinging her legs out of the bed, she stood, still staring at that hand, at the silhouette of the man she could see. Her heart banged against her ribs and she would have sworn he was staring in at her, staring in at her through the curtains. Like he knew she was in there—like he knew who she was—like he knew she was awake.

  Refusing to take her eyes from that shadow, she grabbed her duffel from the floor. The gun was stashed inside it. She pulled it out slowly, her hand steady. Just as slowly, just as steadily, she eased the safety off and backed away over to the bed. With the gun in one hand, she reached for the landline phone on the bedside table with the other.

  She thought about calling Law—damn, but she wanted him there.

  But his number was programmed into her cell, and she wasn’t about to risk letting this guy know for certain she was awake by calling for help on her iPhone and letting that bright little light act as a beacon.

  Not while he continued to stand there … continued to watch.
So instead, she pressed 9-1-1.

  It wasn’t until she opened her mouth to speak that he turned away.

  “You’re certain.”

  Staring into Ezra King’s tired eyes, Nia swore and buried her face in her hands. “Damn it, you think I called you out here for fun, hotshot? Yeah, I’m certain. More, he left footprints, damn it. They aren’t my footprints—I might not wear Cinderella’s glass slipper, but my feet aren’t that big.”

  Ezra nodded.

  He’d already had one of his deputies taking notes, pictures, measurements—she’d watched, glad he was at least pretending to pay attention. And she didn’t think it was a pretense, either.

  Ezra nodded again and looked back at the notebook he held. “You got anybody from back home that might have followed you? You got a high-profile sort of job. Any stalkers?”

  “Stalkers?” Nia laughed humorlessly. She wrapped her arms around her middle, but it did nothing to ease the ache inside—she was cold, she was miserable, and scared.

  Damn it, she should have called Law—almost had, several times. But what would she have said? Hey, I know we’ve had some great sex and all, and I know we’re not exactly sure what we’re doing here, but I’m kind of freaked out. Could you maybe come over? I know it’s late, but I’m scared … I want you to hold my hand.

  Hell, no. She wasn’t about to risk being that vulnerable. Not right now. Not yet.

  “Nia?”

  Looking back at him, she scowled. “No, Sheriff. I don’t have any stalkers. And my job’s not that high profile. I won’t ever count as high profile unless I just luck out and hit a major story. A few people know my name. And most of them are people who’ve worked with me. But I don’t have any crazed fans stalking me, nothing like that.”

  Another slow nod. But she had the feeling he didn’t like what she’d told him.

  Nia wasn’t all that delighted with it, either, because she knew what it meant. The only logical answer—somebody knew she was asking questions. And there was only one person who knew for sure that she had every reason to ask those questions.

  Joely’s killer.

  Fear punched through her, but she didn’t let it control her, didn’t let it take her over. She wouldn’t. Setting her jaw, she held Ezra’s gaze, saw the knowledge in his eyes.

  She opened her mouth, but he gave a tiny shake of his head. For just a moment, he shifted his gaze over her shoulder, all without moving his head.

  Nia snapped her jaw shut, not certain just what he was trying to say. But right now, she was freaked enough that she’d listen. Listen to somebody who seemed to believe her.

  So she waited.

  Waited while the deputies did their thing, while they came up and muttered in their cop-speak to the sheriff, waited, and waited, and waited—gritty-eyed and chugging coffee like there was no tomorrow. She’d just put the second pot on when the last of the deputies disappeared out the door.

  Turning around, she saw Ezra standing by the door.

  “I’m leaving two of my deputies here,” he said flatly. “And if so much as a jackrabbit pokes an ear out of place, I’m to be called.”

  “I didn’t see a rabbit, King,” she snapped.

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” He rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired and pissed off. “How many people know why you’re here, Nia?”

  She shrugged, staring down into her coffee cup. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “How many?” he demanded, an edge to his voice.

  “Shit, how in the hell am I supposed to know? It’s not like I went and took out an ad, damn it. I told you. That’s it.”

  “Me. Just me. You didn’t tell Law?”

  “Hell.” Scowling, she rubbed her eyes. “Yeah. I told Law. But I’m pretty damn sure he wasn’t lurking outside my door.”

  “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t either. I’m just covering the bases. So Law knows. Who else?”

  “Nobody.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “Damn it, I haven’t exactly been making friends, you know. Yeah, Law knows, but other than that, I didn’t tell anybody.”

  “Think anybody has guessed? Anybody asking a lot of questions? Like the librarians while you were digging through the archives, anybody at the courthouse? Anybody, Nia. I need to know just who could know you’re here because you don’t think your cousin’s killer is dead.”

  She gave him a sharp-edged smile. “Well, if you put it like that—three people, for sure. Yeah, I did tell Law. But it wasn’t him. So besides Law. You … and her killer. I’m pretty damn sure he knows why I’m here.”

  Ezra closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.” Then he opened them and pointed a finger at her. “Stop. Whatever you’re doing … stop. Maybe even go home. I’m doing what I can, but damn it, I don’t want another dead woman on my hands.”

  “And I don’t want my cousin’s killer going unpunished!” she shouted, the words ripping out of her. Spinning around, she slammed the coffee cup down. She braced her hands on the counter and swore as the fear of the night hit her hard and fast. “Wait … what, you’re doing what you can?”

  Ezra sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Yes. Quietly. Which is the way it has to be, Nia. Whoever in the hell is behind this knows this town, knows the people. I can’t run the risk of him catching on to what I’m doing, so quiet is how I have to handle this. And it would be a hell of a lot easier for me if you would just go home—where you’ll be safe.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “Damn it, you think I wanted something freaky like this happening? But I can’t just leave, Ezra. I can’t.”

  “What if you’re right, Nia?” he asked quietly. “What if you’re right … say the guy who killed her set everything up, is walking around this town, scot-free, and he sees you. He knows why you’re here, what you’re up to. Now he’s got a new focus. You want to be that focus, lady? You got any idea what he did to your cousin? He didn’t just kill her.”

  “I know what he did to her.” She swallowed the bile, set her jaw against the grief and fury. Then she turned around. On legs that trembled, she made her way to her bag and reached inside, pulled out the file. Joely’s autopsy report was in there. Reading it had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. “I know people, King. I know what he did to her—in detail.”

  She held it out to him.

  A heavy sigh escaped him as he accepted it. “How did you get a copy of this?”

  “I know people,” she repeated, shrugging. “And with some of them, I know things they’d rather I not know. I called in favors, I bribed, threatened. Whatever. Does it matter?”

  Ezra frowned. “I didn’t hear that. I swear, I didn’t hear that.” Then he gave the report back. “I don’t need to read it. I’ve already done that. And you shouldn’t have.”

  “I had to.”

  “You had to see that,” he muttered. Then he shook his head. “Okay. If it was me, I would have done the same thing. Maybe you were a cop in your past life.”

  “Please. There’s no need for insults,” she said, summoning up a weak smile. Then, weary to the very bone, she sank down into the overstuffed armchair. There was a throw artfully draped over the arm and she caught one end, dragged it across her knees. “I can’t go home. I can’t. In my gut, I know there’s something more to what happened. I know it. And I’m going crazy just sitting at home—I can’t work. I can’t sleep. I can barely eat. This is dominating my mind and unless I do something, it’s going to drive me crazy.”

  “I think it already has,” Ezra muttered. “You realize that if you get involved in any way, do anything that I perceive as interfering in a case, or as dangerous—to you, to others—I’ll lock your butt up. And that’s not an empty threat.”

  She gave him a ghost of a smile. “Hey, how can I be doing anything that’s getting involved? The case is officially closed, right?”

  Ezra just grunted. “I meant what I said.”

  He headed for the door.


  “Remember—you see even a jackrabbit, you call.”

  She’d seen him. He’d thought she had—had heard the movement.

  But the police sirens confirmed it.

  Smirking, he wondered what she’d been thinking as he had stood there outside her window.

  Would she leave now?

  He thought about it for a minute and then decided. No. She wouldn’t leave. Not that easily. It would have to be a slow thing, he suspected.

  Terror coming at her in the dead of the night, gradually.

  He’d have to be more subtle next time, though. He shouldn’t have left the footprints. But he’d wanted to see how she would react when she saw him—know thy enemy.

  And his enemy had balls of brass, even if she was a woman.

  It would take a lot to really throw her off. To make her leave. It was a waste really. What he wanted was to take her. Not chase her away, but to take her, break her. But that would be too risky.

  The sheriff had already left deputies watching her cabin.

  Anything that happened to her now would cause him problems, and he already had enough problems, just having her here.

  Later, though … Yes. Perhaps later. Years later. Down the road.

  Smiling, he tucked that thought into the back of his mind as he climbed out of the shower. He needed to get ready to face the day. He had a present to give to a lovely lady. He had work to do. He had planning to do.

  Busy, busy …

  “What?”

  Ethan lowered the cup of coffee and stared at Law’s furious face. “Ah, well. She saw somebody outside her window. Me and Kyle Mabry had to spend the rest of the night out there—I was covering for Keith, needed the money and—”

  “Forget that, don’t care—what do you mean she saw somebody out her window?” Law demanded.

  “Just that.” Ethan shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

  Law was about ready to shove the coffee cup down the deputy’s throat if he didn’t start talking. Right before he opened his mouth to make the threat, Ethan said, “Call came in about two this morning. We went out there and I put in a call to the sheriff.”

  “Why call Ezra?”

  “Because he expects us to—just like Nielson did. Weird stuff, he wants to be told. This is weird, you know? I mean, she’s not local, plus she’s related to the woman who died. And …” His voice trailed off.