He paused and looked back at her, furious. “The career can get fucked, Beulah. What good is my fucking badge if I can’t protect people against a killer who’s been in plain sight for God knows how long?”
“You’re wrong,” she said, shaking her head. “Carter isn’t a killer. You’re wrong.”
“What if I’m not?” He jerked open the door.
As he stormed out of her office, Beulah sank back into her chair, shaken.
The conviction in his eyes, in his voice, worried her.
Beulah knew cops. She might be a small-town county DA, but she knew cops. She’d be willing to bet the Jimmy Choos she’d just bought online last night that Ezra was a good cop—a smart one. He didn’t strike her as the type who’d go off blindly.
Pressing a hand to her belly, she closed her eyes and tried to think.
If he was wrong, it was going to cost him his job. Ash, Kentucky, wouldn’t forgive an outsider coming down on one of their own—especially not somebody like Carter Jennings.
But if he was right …
“Shit, boy.”
The way Ezra saw it, he had two choices—well, three, but one of them wasn’t really a choice. That third one—the not-choice—involved going to talk to Remy. Remy Jennings—Carter’s cousin, and the other county DA. A not-choice of the highest order, as far as he was concerned, because if Beulah hadn’t believed him, then why would Remy?
So scratch that possibility.
Second possibility—get a few of his men out, asking some questions. Even if he just took one or two of the men he thought he could trust the most—hell, even just one, like Keith. Maybe they could get somebody who had seen something. Could a man really hide that long without showing anybody his true nature? It didn’t seem that way.
But it would take too long. Ezra didn’t know how much time they might have. His gut was screaming a warning—hurry, hurry, hurry—time was something he didn’t really have, he suspected.
Not to mention that every minute that went by was another minute Carter would have to bury his trail. He’d done a damn good job hiding already.
Other choice—go out to the Inn. Maybe he could find Carter, see if the bastard would fuck up. Or maybe Roz would be wearing another piece of jewelry—shit. The fucking jewelry …
As he climbed into his car, he pulled out his phone. He needed to know more about the jewelry. Had she uncovered other women? Were there other pieces missing? Just how much digging had Nia done? Would it be enough?
Remy stood on the steps of the courthouse, his briefcase in one hand, the other in his pocket. Puzzled, he stared at Ezra’s car, then glanced back over his shoulder.
He caught a glimpse of Beulah Simmons before she slipped into her office. If she hadn’t shut the door, he might not have thought anything of it. But that wasn’t like her.
Shutting the door. Not to mention that she hadn’t so much as waved to him.
Just like it wasn’t like Ezra to not hear him calling.
Weird shit abounds … and Remy had been around too long to think the weird shit wasn’t connected.
He debated for about two seconds—did he go talk to Beulah? Or see if he could get Ezra to talk? Ezra, honestly, was his best choice, he suspected. Beulah wasn’t likely to open her mouth for anything short of a shoe-shopping spree and Remy had a wedding to pay for, a honeymoon … and a house he was thinking about showing to Hope.
Ezra, it was.
Of course, Ezra was pulling out of his spot by the time he reached the sidewalk.
Swearing, Remy headed for his car. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing now. He didn’t have anything else going on today—he’d expected to be in court this afternoon, but thanks to an unexpected offer from the court-appointed attorney, that wasn’t going to happen. He could get some lunch, could call Hope. And he needed to do that, soon. She was supposed to be out at Law’s and he wanted to make sure she was.
But he could make that call while he was trailing Ezra.
Trailing a cop—hell, could he do that without being seen?
Not likely. But he was doing it anyway.
He couldn’t quite understand what instinct pushed him to do it, either.
Hope checked her phone. No calls. No messages from Remy. Sighing, she slipped it back into her pocket and got up from the kitchen table.
It was already almost two and Lena was working on a late lunch, not that any of them were really hungry. It was more to give the other woman something to do than anything, Hope suspected.
She could sympathize. She desperately wished she had some of her work from Law’s. But she wasn’t about to suggest one of them make a trip over there.
“You know, a lot of my books are audio,” Lena said over her shoulder. “You’re welcome to pick one out.”
Hope winced. “Am I being that obvious?”
“No more than the rest of us,” Lena said, shrugging. She slid a pan into the oven and closed it before stripping off the gloves she wore. “I can just hear you pacing and I know I’d be bored stiff if I was over at Law’s place with nothing to do for hours on end.”
Hope scowled. “I just hate not knowing what’s going on.”
“Me, too.” Lena started her way, one hand outstretched.
Hope caught it and when the taller woman wrapped an arm around her, Hope sighed and leaned into her hug. “Life was supposed to get easier, right? Now that Joe’s gone. Everything was supposed to be smooth sailing.”
Lena chuckled. “I guess we forgot to inform life of that fact.” She squeezed Hope gently and then eased back. “Life is just life, Hope. We get through this and things will be fine. You’ll see.”
“Don’t see how things couldn’t not get better, that’s for sure,” she muttered. Sighing, she pushed a hand through her hair and moved to stand by the door. The buzzing of the phone in her pocket had her jumping, muffling a shriek. “Damn it, I’m so on edge.”
“We all are,” Lena said, her voice wry. “I’ll leave you to talk with your sweetheart. But … ah … maybe you shouldn’t say anything about this. Not yet. He’s pretty close to Carter.”
Hope frowned and glanced at the readout. Yeah, sure enough it was Remy.
Don’t say anything …? But what do we talk about? “Hi, honey, how was your day? I went by the Inn and had to leave, but I can’t tell you why …”
Normally, talking to Hope soothed him. Even as it turned him on.
But as he disconnected, Remy was anything but soothed.
She wasn’t at Law’s. She was at Lena’s. With Law, Lena, and Nia. She’d been at the Inn earlier. That wouldn’t bother him so much, except that was where Remy was sitting now. He’d seen Ezra turn in, but instead of taking the main entrance, Remy had driven on past and taken the second, more concealed employee entrance, parking in the back. He could see Ezra’s car, see the sheriff climbing out, see the grim look on his friend’s face.
What in the hell …
Remy would like to dismiss it. He wanted to. There was no evidence of anything weird, and if Ezra was here on serious official business, he’d have a couple of deputies with him. But he was here alone. That had to mean something.
But the sinking, crawling sensation wasn’t letting him dismiss it.
That same sinking sensation had him climbing out of the car and moving toward the house.
He’d head off Ezra, find out what was wrong.
If that didn’t work, he’d find Roz or Carter.
Because something was up.
He knew it.
Then Ezra shifted his head and looked at him, dead on.
The sinking sensation, that icy-cold feeling of dread hit, spreading through him like an insidious wave. Slowly, he started across the grounds, not bothering with the paths that Roz had carefully laid out—she worked damned hard on the grounds, but Remy didn’t care. Tension had his muscles strung so tight, he felt he might shatter.
As he drew even with the sheriff, the look in Ezra’s eyes had him wishing he’d ju
st headed home. Or gone back to his office, dealt with paperwork. Done anything but followed Ezra.
“Any reason you decided to start tailing me, Jennings?” Ezra asked, his voice flat and hard.
“Yeah. I’m still trying to figure out what it is.” He looked at the Inn. It was a beautiful place. Warm, inviting, cheerful.
But in that moment, it seemed … cold. Harsh.
“What are you doing here, Ezra?”
“Nothing you want to know about.” He sighed and shook his head. “Go back into town, okay?”
“No.” Remy folded his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”
Swearing under his breath, Ezra turned away. Then he looked back at Remy, his green eyes hard, sharp as broken glass. “You asking in an official capacity or what?”
“I’m asking because the look on your face means trouble. And you’re standing in front of the house one of my cousins owns. What’s up, did Roz forget to pay her damn parking tickets again?” he asked sarcastically.
“I don’t think I’d get too bent out of shape over parking tickets.” Ezra dipped a hand into his pocket and tugged something out.
Remy heard the soft crinkle of plastic and he looked down, but whatever Ezra held, he was keeping it hidden. “I’m asking again, Remy. Why are you here? This any sort of official thing?”
“Shit.” Remy reached up and jerked at his tie, loosening it. It felt like it was choking him. “No, I’m not here officially. I’ve got family here—makes me anything but impartial. Aside from that, I don’t even know why you are here, so how can I be here officially?”
Ezra stared down, like he was thinking something over. Then he nodded and turned back to his car, reaching inside. He pulled out a folder, flipped through it. When he straightened, he turned around and handed Remy a report.
Remy recognized the police report, found himself staring at a girl with a pretty face, hidden under too much makeup, a smile that hadn’t quite hidden the misery in her eyes.
The next picture was so god-awful, he’d see it in his nightmares. He set his jaw and skimmed the report, then gave Ezra a look. “Why am I looking at this?”
“You see the part about the bracelet the roommate claims was missing?”
Remy smirked. “I say there are good odds the roommate took the bracelet. A diamond bracelet, Ezra?” He glanced up and that was when he saw what Ezra had been hiding.
A diamond bracelet. The evidence bag couldn’t quite hide the way the diamonds sparkled under the sunshine. The sight of it sent a chill down Remy’s spine. Still, they ran a damned Inn—people from all over came through the place. And just how unique was a diamond bracelet?
Shaking his head, he said, “Sorry. You’d have to do a better job than—”
Ezra dumped the evidence on top of the report. Remy had to juggle to keep it from sliding off. “Look at the underside of it. You can see it without taking it out of the bag.”
“Shit.” Flipping the bag, he peered at the underside—saw a flash of blue. And an inscription. “It’s inscribed.”
“Yeah. That makes it a hell of a lot more unique.”
“Okay. Still, Roz runs a damned bed-and-breakfast. People come here from everywhere.”
Ezra sighed. “I know. And I also know that your cousin was in Chicago the weekend that girl died. Now you go find someplace to stick your head in the sand. I told you that you didn’t want to be here.” He grabbed the bracelet and shoved it in his pocket, pulled the report from Remy’s slack hands and tossed it into the car.
Remy barely noticed. Blood roared in his ears.
His cousin—
Carter.
Fuck—
It took him a full sixty seconds to get his legs moving and by the time he could move, he had to run to catch up with Ezra. He made it just before the sheriff opened the front door.
“I’m going with you—to prove you wrong,” he snapped.
“If you do prove me wrong, I’ll be damn fine with that.” Ezra glanced around, looking for the hostess. But Tammy wasn’t at her normal spot. “I don’t want to be right about this. Trust me.”
Remy muttered, “Trust you? Not damn likely.” He started down the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“To see if Carter is here or at his workshop—if I don’t see him, I’ll look for Roz. She’ll know where he is.” Remy headed down the hallway, tuning out the noise he heard coming from the kitchen. It was louder than normal, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to find Carter or Roz.
But three minutes later, he was standing in the doorway of her empty office, Ezra at his back.
Remy scowled and headed toward the back of the house, taking the longer way around. He looked out the windows, but he didn’t see her in the garden or on the private patio there, either. Just before the hallway split again, there was a door—it opened to yet another hallway, one that would lead to the private upstairs bedrooms, Carter’s library. It also circled back to Roz’s office.
As the door swung shut behind him, Remy called upstairs. “Roz, Carter?”
There was no answer. Swearing, he turned around. “Guess we need to check the kitchen.”
But Ezra wasn’t listening to him.
He was crouched on the floor just a few feet past the stairs, staring at something on the smooth, dark wood.
Something that gleamed even darker than the wood. Something that made Remy’s gut clench.
“What is that?”
Ezra slanted an unreadable look in his direction. “It looks like blood.”
The fist-sized circle was already drying, starting to go tacky.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” he said, shaking his head. Ezra cocked a brow. “Blood? Doesn’t mean anything?”
“Hell, this is a restaurant. One of the staff could have cut themselves.” He swallowed and told himself that was a perfectly logical explanation. Perfectly. And it was.
One of the kitchen staff cut a hand—came to look for Roz. She took them to the emergency room, Remy told himself. He passed a hand over the back of his mouth. Tried to buy more completely into that idea. It wasn’t completely whacked, right?
“Denial is a river in Egypt,” he muttered as he stood at the door and waited for Ezra.
“Huh?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Just talking to myself. Now what?”
“Can you call Roz?”
Remy nodded. He shot that hideous red another look as he reached for his phone. He squeezed it tight, the casing biting into his fingers. “I want to make sure she’s not in the kitchen. Hell, one of the staff really could have cut themselves, you know. Maybe she’s running them to the hospital and—what?”
Ezra just shook his head. “You go check the kitchen and then call Roz. If it will make you feel better to look at the hospital, go ahead.”
Something that might have been pity flashed in the other man’s eyes—it fucking pissed Remy off. Glaring at him, he turned around and shoved through the door.
Before he headed to the kitchen, he shot Ezra a dark look.
“Fuck, no, I’m not going to the hospital. I’m going with you, wherever you’re going. You’re so fucking certain Carter did something—fine. You think that. Seems to me I should stay with you to make sure you don’t go planting evidence.”
The second the words left his mouth, he regretted it. But damn it if he could take them back.
A muscle twitched in Ezra’s jaw. “If that’s how you want to play it, Jennings, so be it. Hurry it up, though.”
His gut was already tied into knots, fear burning a metallic trail down his throat. Now he had guilt on top of that. Wasn’t this just fucking perfect?
“Fuck.” He headed for the kitchen. With every step, he said a silent prayer.
Let Roz be in there. Let Carter be in there. They’re both in there, and everything will be fine …
CHAPTER
TWENTY
EZRA WAITED JUST OUTSIDE THE KITCHEN FOR REMY.
Tammy,
the hostess, almost crashed into him on her way out. Frazzled and flushed, she gave him a strained smile. “Sorry, Sheriff. We’re a little crazy around here today.”
“Everything okay?”
She shrugged. “Yes—well, no. I can’t find Roz. She always takes shipments and we had a shipment, but she couldn’t take delivery, so I had to do it, and then one of the kitchen guys got sick and had to leave … hell, it almost feels like Monday.”
“Where did Roz take off to?”
“That’s it, I don’t know.” Tammy lifted her hands helplessly and shrugged. “We don’t know. She didn’t tell anybody anything. She was just … gone. Nobody’s seen her since this morning. She talked to Nia and Law, and that’s it. Nobody has seen her since.” She shifted from one foot to the other, chewing on her lower lip. “It’s not like her … I’m getting worried, too. She’s not even answering her phone—she always answers.”
Remy came out at just that moment and he frowned as he heard Tammy. He gave Ezra a narrow look, but Ezra wasn’t about to waste another two minutes here. They’d wasted too much already.
As they pushed through the front door, Remy snarled, “You don’t have any fucking right interrogating Roz’s staff.”
“I didn’t interrogate her. She blurted it out,” Ezra said shortly. “Now yank your head out of your ass. You’re convinced Carter didn’t do anything wrong—fine. Then prove it. I need to talk to him. Where is he likely to be?”
Remy swore. Shoving a hand through his hair, he said, “His workshop.” He pointed off to the side. “It’s about a twenty-minute drive if you want to take the car—we have to cut through on backroads. Or we can take the path he takes—it’s about a ten-minute walk across their property.”
“We walk.” Grimly, Ezra headed down the sidewalk. His leg was already aching and he hadn’t done a damn thing. It was going to be a bitch of a day—he already knew it.
As they started down the path, he pulled out his phone and pulled up Lena’s number. She answered on the second ring. “Anything going on?” she demanded before he even managed to get a word out.
“No.” He shot Remy a look, wondered how much he could say, how much he should say. “Everything okay over there?”
If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Page 26