If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

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If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Page 21

by Shiloh Walker


  Of course he’d fucking heard—

  Everybody in the whole damn town knew. The sheriff’s department was crawling all over the woods. His place. They knew about his fucking place.

  Nia—

  “Something weird is going on down in the woods between where Lena and Ezra live and the Ohlman property. I don’t know what—I’ve heard everything, too. Somebody said they found where a cult worships, and somebody else said they found a serial killer’s hangout, and somebody else said it’s where they stashed money from a bank robbery. But something is weird.”

  He forced a wry note into his voice and asked, “I wonder if the next story is going to involve little green men from Mars. Or maybe it’s the secret hideout for a vampire …?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Please. Not vampires. I’m so tired of them. Grandma is getting hooked on them. She likes the ones that sparkle.” She topped off his coffee and looked up as the bell over the door jangled. The café was already packed, but it was only going to get worse.

  Which was why he was there. The best place to hear news. Gossip.

  Everything.

  “I’ll be by in a few minutes,” she said, smiling at him. Then she was gone.

  Leaving him alone. He stared down into the dark, steaming brew, but he didn’t see it. Didn’t see the cup, or the table … it wasn’t Natalie’s voice he heard, or anybody else.

  He saw Nia, as she’d looked coming out of the forest. And he was imagining how she would have sounded if he had just aimed his van for her, run her down.

  It would have been too quick. Too easy. And over. His secrets would have been safe. His hands trembled, the coffee splattering out, but he barely noticed.

  Damn that fucking whore. He shouldn’t have left his things there. Not after last night. But how could he have risked moving them then? With her poking her nose into everybody’s business and showing up exactly where she shouldn’t be …

  Damn her.

  “… wasn’t that Carson guy.”

  He stiffened. Without turning his head, he slid his eyes to the side, trying to find the speaker.

  Female—ahhhh … bingo. He knew her. Married to one of the deputies, too. Ethan’s wife. Oh, this was priceless. Exactly why he was hanging around here.

  “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head, her mouth drawn tight in a frown. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say anything else. I get a feeling I might not be seeing much of him for the next few days.”

  “Shit. I don’t want to think that we might have another crazy fuck running through our town. What in the hell is going on around here lately? The Carson guy, all the insanity last summer …”

  Idly, he reached down and stroked the knife he’d used to cut up the steak he’d ordered for lunch. He imagined taking it, standing and moving to stand behind the gossiping bitch just behind him, a little to the right. Grabbing her hair and jerking her head back, exposing her neck. The spray of blood as he dragged the blade over her flesh.

  She’d be dead before anybody realized what he’d done, most likely.

  Everybody would be so shocked—

  You’re slipping.

  Because the image was so enticing, so rich and intriguing, he pushed the knife away, folded his hands around his cup of coffee. Too enticing, too intriguing.

  He was slipping …

  No. No, you’re not. You’re in control. He was in control. He’d always been in control. He didn’t notice that as he set his coffee down, his hands continued to tremble.

  Nia stared through the windshield. “I don’t give a flying fuck if you want me alone or not. I said, take me back to my cabin.”

  “Damn it, Nia.” He slammed a fist into the steering wheel. “Don’t you get it? You were right, okay? Something fucked up is going on, all the more reason for you to be careful and you want to go back there?”

  “Not especially.” She slid him a thin-lipped smile. “I just refuse to stay at your place and there really isn’t anyplace else. I figure the cabin is more secure than the hotel room, at least.”

  She glanced in the rearview mirror at the car following along. “Besides, sugar, it’s not like I’m on my lonesome. I’ve got my nice escort, remember?”

  Law said nothing, a muscle jerking in his jaw.

  She slumped down in the seat, arms folded over her chest. Misery sat in her chest, a tight, cold lump. Beneath it lurked the twin shadows of rage and guilt.

  There was something monstrous and dark in Law’s eyes.

  She’d seen it lurking there all day—the echo of something haunting him, something he wouldn’t share with her. What was it, this thing he wouldn’t share with her? She had to know, damn it.

  You can’t undo the damage—

  Tense moments of silence passed before he finally turned into the small parking area in front of her cabin. She half expected him to peel off in a fit of sulking fury.

  But that wasn’t Law’s style, apparently. He was just a few inches away as she headed up, and behind him, the deputies.

  “I don’t recall inviting you in,” she said, her voice bitchy. And she wasn’t even sure why—she was pissed, but damn it, she didn’t entirely understand just why. Did she really want whatever horror he’d seen inside her head?

  He isn’t giving me the choice to decide for myself, damn it, she thought. That was the problem.

  “I don’t care if you invited me in or not.” He stared at her, his gaze level, flat. “I’m making sure everything is okay before I leave.”

  Nia glared at his back as he shoved around her, plucking the keys out of her hand. Then she gave one of the deputies a considering glance. “I didn’t invite him in here. Can’t you make him leave?”

  Ethan shifted from one foot to the other, then gave Law a worried look. “Well, Ms. Hollister, I … uh … he already said he isn’t staying …”

  “Not the point.” She had to grit her teeth to keep from yelling. “Fine. Screw it. I don’t want him in, but he goes in anyway.”

  Stalking inside, she decided she was going to change, then go to the Inn, and get shitfaced drunk—

  Law’s arm came up, barring her way. She went to shove it aside, but then she focused on the room. She blinked, rubbed her eyes. But the image didn’t change.

  “What the hell …?” she whispered.

  Her room was destroyed. Completely destroyed. Clothes were everywhere. Black paint marred the TV, mirror, and walls. And the bed … she stared at it, trying to figure out what was wrong, but her mind wasn’t processing it.

  “It looks slashed,” she murmured. “Somebody slashed up the bed.”

  “Ethan.” Law—that was Law’s voice. Coming from too far off.

  Hands, gentle but insistent, tugged her aside. She didn’t fight them.

  For some reason, the fight was suddenly gone. Her head was spinning. Black dots danced in front of her eyes. A hand gripped the back of her neck and she realized somebody was pushing her, forcing her away from the open doorway, then into a chair on the porch. Her head was shoved down, between her legs.

  Not helping …

  Her bed.

  Somebody had slashed her bed.

  * * *

  “Breathe, Nia,” Law said. “You need to breathe so you can yell at me and threaten to kick my ass more, okay?”

  Finally, she stirred under his hand and when she tried to sit up, he let her, staring into glassy eyes. Her pupils were too big, her normally warm skin almost ashen. “He cut my bed up,” she said softly.

  Law blew out a breath. “Yeah. It looks like.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the two deputies making their way around the room, nudging things aside with a shoe, but taking care not to touch anything.

  But he’d seen some of the clothes on the floor before he’d forced Nia into the chair. The bed wasn’t the only thing that got the knife job. She’d be lucky to find anything big enough to use as a rag.

  Had he come here looking for Nia? Or was this just to scar
e her?

  Law didn’t know. Soothingly, he rubbed a hand up and down her back, watching as the color slowly crept back into her cheeks, watching as the shock in her eyes was slowly replaced by anger.

  He saw her body tense only a second before she went to shove him aside. He let her, but when she tried to barge into the cabin, he stopped her. “Nia, it’s a crime scene. They need to make sure there isn’t any evidence. You go in there, it makes it harder for them.”

  “Damn it, Law,” she snapped. She reached out to shove at him, but instead, she rested her hands on his chest. Then, abruptly, her hands fisted in his shirt. A harsh sigh, too close to a sob, escaped her.

  “Hey …” Slipping an arm around her waist, he eased her up against him, pressed his lips to her brow. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I swear.”

  “How? How in the hell can you swear that?” She buried her face against his chest, her voice muffled. “My cousin’s gone. We don’t know who is responsible. And he’s fucking around with me.”

  “He’s messing up, that’s what he’s doing,” Law said. He hugged her close, wished there was some way he could protect her from this. Assuming she’d even let him. Hell, he’d tried to protect her earlier and she’d spent the day pissed off at him—he could still feel that wall between them.

  Already she was trying to back away. And he couldn’t force her to stay there, either. Reluctantly, he let her go. She wasn’t pale now, and although her eyes were still a little off, she looked more pissed than anything. She stared through the door, but made no move to go inside.

  Her head tilted to the side and he watched as her eyes narrowed, watched as a flush settled over her cheeks. “He cut up my clothes,” she said quietly.

  Law tucked his hands into his pockets, rocked back onto his heels.

  She shifted her gaze his way and snarled, “He cut up my fucking clothes.”

  “Yeah.”

  Spinning away, she started to pace. “What the hell … I mean, shit. What the hell is he trying to do?”

  “I’d say he’s trying to run you off.”

  She stopped in midstep and looked at him. “What?”

  He shrugged. “Makes sense. I mean, think about it. He can’t risk coming after you, not if there’s a chance you’ve shared your concerns with the sheriff, and everybody knows you’ve talked to him a few times. First thing anybody would think is that there’s a connection. If you disappeared or got hurt …” Or worse … “It’s going to just make things look that much more suspicious.”

  Fuck. His gut was in knots just thinking about the or worse possibilities. What he’d seen in that underground cellar—the tools. The bloodied cot.

  The fucking saw—

  Shoving it aside, he focused on Nia’s face again. “Whoever this is, he’s smart enough to realize that it’s safer to just get you out of here. Trying to come after you is dangerous. So he wants to scare you. That’s what this is about.”

  “Scare me. He kills Joely and thinks cutting my clothes up is going to chase me off?” Nia shook her head.

  “Well, some people might be freaked out enough.” He chanced lifting a hand, touching it to her cheek. “But I doubt he’d planned on stopping with this. This was just another step. He’ll probably keep going.”

  “Except we found his place,” she said softly. “He’ll know about that now.”

  A cold chill ran down Law’s spine.

  “Yeah. He’ll know.” Grimly, he looked back at the cabin and then around the grounds. “Nia, staying alone, even with the deputies outside, it’s just not safe.”

  She was gritting her teeth. He could tell. Curling a hand over the back of her neck, he massaged the tense muscles there, half-expecting her to jerk away. “It will get worse after this, you know. It only makes sense. Once he finds out his place was found, he’ll get pissed or desperate or both.”

  “And coming after me does what? It’s not like I know anything.”

  “But you’ll be his focus. The problems started back up with you.”

  “Me …” She frowned and twisted her head around, looked at him. “This time. But is he going to focus on me, or Lena? Who really started the problem?”

  Law wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her back against him.

  She didn’t pull away. In fact, she snuggled closer, lifted her hands to curl around his forearm. Standing there together, they stared into the cabin, watching as the deputies continued to study the remains of her clothes.

  “It really will get worse now,” she said softly.

  “Probably.”

  It was late. So fucking late. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

  Nia couldn’t, though. Not yet.

  It was like a burn on her brain, that driving need to know.

  He thought she was asleep. She’d let him think that, waited until he slid out of bed, knowing he’d probably shower—he liked to shower before he slept, one fact she’d already picked up on.

  Once he was in the shower, she slipped out of his bed and padded over to the door, listening through the narrow crack to the water splash. She eased the door open, peered inside. His phone was there. Just a few feet away. Easing the door open just a little more, she peeked around the edge, stared at him.

  She could see him, his lean back to her, hands braced against the tile wall, head bent as the water pounded down on him. She slid her way inside and grabbed the phone, clutched it to her breasts as she backed away.

  She didn’t bother closing the door, just beat a fast retreat out of the room as she hit the button, wincing as the iPhone’s bright screen flared to life.

  Photos …

  She hit the icon, hit another one, scrolled down.

  Shit.

  Nothing there.

  He’d deleted it—

  Then she remembered.

  He’d sent it to Ezra. E-mail. It would be in his e-mail.

  She hit the icon for that. Shit. The shower cut off.

  She hurriedly headed down the steps, swearing as the messages loaded. Sent—

  There it was.

  The message he’d sent to Ezra.

  The picture was there, in the body of the message.

  Her mind recognized it. But it didn’t want to process it.

  Part of it was too shiny, like Law’s flashlight had reflected off it. Something dark and rusty stained the bottom of it.

  A saw. It was a saw …

  No.

  On the bottom step, she stumbled and fell against the wall.

  Dimly, she heard the strangest sound—an animal.

  It sounded like a wild animal.

  Whimpering.

  Law swiped the towel over his head, weariness tugging at him. Although he didn’t really want to sleep, he needed to. He just hoped when he slid into bed next to Nia, he could avoid the nightmares he feared waited for him.

  Fuck, he wished he hadn’t gone in there.

  Ezra could have figured out some way to get people out there, right?

  Granted, Law going in under the guise of curiosity and finding suspicious shit made it a lot easier, but still … he wished he could wipe the images out of his mind as easily as he’d been able to delete them from the damn phone.

  He shot a look at the counter where he’d left his phone.

  Then the bottom dropped out of his stomach when he realized it wasn’t there.

  “Aw, fuck,” he muttered.

  Just then, he heard something.

  It was a sound that would haunt him, much like those images.

  Snagging his jeans, he hitched them on in seconds and took off. She wasn’t in the bedroom. Not in the hallway. He hit the lights and looked around.

  That sound—there it was again.

  And there she was.

  Sitting down at the foot of the stairs, a look on her face that probably echoed what he’d felt inside when he’d figured out what he was looking at. His phone was a few inches away from her hand and she was staring at it like she expected it to atta
ck her. Fuck—what the hell, he’d deleted it … oh, shit.

  E-mail. He’d sent it to Ezra and it was in the sent box.

  “Nia.”

  She didn’t even seem to hear him.

  Unsure what to say, how to say it, he came down the steps, knelt on the one just above her. He touched her cheek, but she didn’t react, didn’t move. Sighing, he lifted her feet and sat down on the step across from her. She shifted her gaze to him then and he saw the horror lurking in the golden depths.

  Why in the hell did you have to look, baby?

  That was what he wanted to ask her.

  But he didn’t.

  It was bad enough that she’d seen. He didn’t need to remind her that she’d had the option of not looking … that he’d tried to spare her this. Maybe she regretted it, maybe she didn’t. Too late now, either way.

  “It’s a saw,” she said, her voice soft, toneless. Her gaze clung to his face, like she couldn’t bear to look away.

  Law nodded.

  “A saw. There’s blood on it.” She licked her lips, darted a look at the phone, like she feared the image would somehow morph into reality or something. “That … it was blood, wasn’t it? Could it be something else?”

  Blowing out a breath, he said softly, “It could be something else.”

  “Could be,” she whispered. Then she giggled. It had a high, almost hysterical note to it and just hearing it hurt his heart.

  “Nia …”

  She shook her head. “Could be.” The laughter died and she stared at him and now, the shock had faded, leaving nothing but the horror, so thick and dark, it threatened to drown them both. “It could be, but you don’t think it is.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the wall. “You told me I’d have nightmares. That’s why you didn’t want me looking.” She swallowed and then lifted her lids just enough to stare at him from under her lashes. “I wish I’d listened. I don’t want that picture in my head. I’d do almost anything to get it out.”

  “I know the feeling. It’s stuck in there, though. For both of us, I guess.” He closed one hand around her ankle and started to rub the bottom of her foot. “Maybe … I dunno. Maybe I should have given you some idea of what I’d seen. That might have helped.”

 

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