If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (31 page)

Law rested his hands on Nia’s shoulders. Then he looked up, focused on Ezra. “How about this … I think Nia knows who it is.”

In that moment, a gorilla could have danced by Ezra’s window in a pink tutu and he wouldn’t have noticed. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at Nia. She had her eyes closed, and she was pale—almost ashen, her breaths coming in rapid, shallow pants. Alarming, that.

“Nia?”

She swallowed and looked up. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled something out—a plastic bag. She barely touched it, holding it only with the tips of her fingers, like she couldn’t bear to touch it.

“You’re going to find fingerprints on it,” Law said. “Hers, mine … probably from other people. We found it at the Inn.”

Nia opened her mouth to say something else, but Law’s hand shot out, caught hers, squeezed. He shook his head.

Ezra narrowed his eyes. “What’s up, Reilly?”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” he muttered, shooting Law a dark look as he came out from behind the desk. He took the bag and lifted it. The second he saw what was in it, his heart sank to his knees, and then leaped up to his throat.

The bracelet. Kathleen Hughes—

Shit. He’d done some investigating on the girl’s death after Nia had shown him her report. Yeah, this fit the description. But still … hell, Carter bought Roz jewelry all the time.

“It’s inscribed,” Nia said, her voice reed-thin. “I didn’t tell you that. But her boyfriend had it inscribed to her.”

Ezra turned it over.

For my angel
.

There was also a small blue sapphire set there.

“It was Kathleen’s birthstone,” Nia whispered.

Ezra looked at her, his hand tightening on the bracelet. “You said you found this at the Inn.”

Nia nodded jerkily. She opened her mouth, but then closed it without saying anything.

Ezra didn’t need her to say anything, though. Because just like that … those missing pieces Ezra had been searching for fell into place.

The man he’d seen in the courthouse—he hadn’t been able to place him because he hadn’t
looked
right.

Carter.

Carter
fucking
Jennings. He’d looked different, because he hadn’t had any hair—bald.

What in the holy fuck …

“Son of a bitch, Lena’s over at the Inn,” Ezra snarled.

*   *   *

He was running out of ashes, Carter mused. He’d known he would. Couldn’t get the ashes when he didn’t have his special ingredients. He’d been hoarding what he had, but he was now just about out. Roz did love the pieces with that glaze, but what could he do?

Sighing, he added some more copper oxide. It was going to be lovely when he was done. A deep, burnished red glaze he’d use on a few of the pieces he’d fired—one of them was an anniversary present for Roz.

The glaze had to be perfect. He had used the last of his ashes for it, so it would be perfect. The ashes had a way of giving the pots a special gleam … like they glowed with some inner spark. A soul.

After leaving the sheriff’s department, he’d come here. He’d been tempted to amble around town and see if he could learn anything. In the end, though, he had needed the peace of his workshop, needed to focus on something other than problems. That was why everything had become a problem, he knew. He let himself get so close he could no longer see the big picture.

He should have kept his distance.

They’d found his place. Carter had to deal with that. He’d been careful, even in his own territory, not to leave any sign of himself. Body hair was no issue. He wore condoms and he wore gloves. They would find blood from his victims—blood never really did come out easily, but even that would be hard to trace. Bleach broke down DNA and he used it religiously.

No, they wouldn’t likely find signs of him and they weren’t likely to even connect his place, for certain, to any specific crimes, because there were no bodies. Save for Jolene Hollister, and of course, Mara and Katia—his infamous Chicago fuck-up.

But only Jolene could be traced back to Ash. All they
had there was suspicion. No hard evidence.
Nothing
, he told himself.
They have nothing
.

And he’d be careful not to give them anything, either. From here on out, his games would stop. Perhaps later, he’d find a new game. But for now, it was done.

This was for the best. It had been too close, the game he’d been playing and he had been doing too many stupid, foolish things, and neglecting his work, even his wife.

Roz deserved better than that. He’d make it up to her. The present. Perhaps another special piece of jewelry. A trip, even. He smiled as he finished mixing the glaze, studying it with a critical eye. Yes. This would work.

His mind calm, he shifted his focus to the other task at hand—cutting himself off from the other loves of his life. His hunts, his games. For a second, the rage tried to emerge, rage at Nia … coming here, screwing it all up—

Then he stopped, made himself breathe, made himself think.

“What’s done is done, right?”

The ringing of his phone interrupted the passive, placid pace of his thoughts. Frowning, he made his way to the dusty thing—he’d turned his cell phone off. He never used it in here and Roz knew better than to call him while he was working.

Only in emergencies. She knew that.

“Hello?”

“Oh … you are there.” She sounded surprised. She paused and he could hear her agitated breathing.

“Yes, I’m here. I’ve got a lot of work to get done, too. What’s wrong, angel?”
Angel …
she was his angel. He’d seen that on the bracelet he’d given her, liked to call her that while she wore it.

“Carter, baby, I know you hate it when I call you while you’re working, but …” Her voice broke. “My bracelet. That beautiful one you gave me after you got back from Chicago? It’s missing.”

He stiffened. Through stiff lips, he echoed, “Missing?”

“Yes. I … well, I had a call from Lena. Nia and Law were over, and I thought maybe they were wanting to talk about a wedding package or something—you can see they are gone over on each other. The clasp was giving me trouble again and I just left it on my desk when Lena called. She was upset and …” She was talking so fast her words were running into each other.

Carter swore and reached up, skimming his hand along his smooth scalp. He never wore his hairpiece in here. It got too hot and when he sweated in it, it made it that much more often he had to clean it. It was a pain in the ass to clean, too, something he had to see to himself, because he didn’t want others knowing.

Only Roz knew about his hair loss—something that had crept up on him after college. He’d hated it at first, but over time, he realized it was better. Without hair, he was less likely to leave evidence, a blessing in disguise.

But right now, the feel of his naked scalp was just another irritation, one that would boil out of control. Why in the
fuck
did things keep going
wrong
?

The calm he’d found in his short time here was threatening to disappear, but he clung to it. Forcing himself to speak quietly and coolly, he said, “Roz, you need to slow down. What
happened
?”

“I … well, I feel awful saying this, but I think Nia might have stolen it.”

His calm exploded in a blast of fury. And more than a little fear.

Son of a bitch.

That cunt knew about Katia.

*   *   *

Lena King might not be able to see, but she didn’t need eyes to sense the storm of emotion cutting through the air.

With one leg drawn up to her chest, she tried to track Roz’s movements, but the woman was moving too damn fast.

“You going to tell me what has you so mad?”

“What? Oh, nothing. You know, if you want, since you’re here, if you want to go bake something fattening and chocolatey, I wouldn’t mind,” Roz said. Her voice had the high, harsh note of somebody who was clinging to her temper by a thread.

“Hmmm. I bet. I don’t think you need the caffeine, darling.”

“No. I just need the chocolate.”

Lena could tell that much, she mused. “You know what? I think you’re probably right. Chocolate is exactly what you need.” She swung her legs off the couch and stood up. “Come on, Puck. Let’s go whip up something fattening and chocolatey.”

Roz laughed. “Lena, it’s not necessary.”

“Of course it isn’t.” She smiled as she felt around for Puck’s leash. “But I want to. Forward, Puck.”

She didn’t mention to Roz what a relief it would be to get out of that small office. Whatever had her so on edge was about ready to send Lena through the roof. Roz had slipped outside a few minutes earlier and when she came back, her mood had been just as erratic, just as harsh.

In the name of sanity and friendship, Lena figured chocolate was the best thing she could offer since Roz didn’t want to talk about it.

Her phone rang as she pushed into the smaller family kitchen Roz and Carter used. She wasn’t going to use the Inn’s kitchen—the day staff would already be working on lunch and dinner. Lena didn’t want to get in the
way. Pulling her phone out, she said, “Hey, gorgeous. Yes, I’m behaving for the sitter.”

“Have you talked to Carter?” Ezra demanded, his voice flat and hard.

“What? No—”

“Good. Don’t mention his name, don’t be anywhere that he might be able to be alone with you. You have Puck, right?”

An icy shiver raced down her spine. “Ezra—”

“Don’t ask any questions,” he said, softening his voice. “I don’t want anybody hearing you ask them—not Roz, not Carter, not
anybody
. Trust me, okay? I need you to trust me and just do what I ask … no questions. Please?”

As terror settled like a cold, slimy ball in the pit of her stomach, Lena whispered, “Okay.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon,” he said. Then the call disconnected.

Swallowing, she lowered her hand. Puck leaned against her leg and whined. She reached down and rested a hand on his head.

Carter …

“I don’t know if I want to get married here,” Hope said, climbing out of the car and staring at the Inn. Then she sighed. She didn’t want to mess with handling the details all by herself, either.

Yeah, she had a few months, she knew. They weren’t in any big rush, but she needed to at least figure out what she
wanted
, right? Because Remy didn’t care. He wanted whatever would make her happy. Hope just didn’t
know
what would make her happy.

Hitching her bag up onto her shoulder, she headed into the Inn. It wouldn’t be too, too busy, she didn’t think. Not if she got here before lunchtime, and not in
the middle of a workweek. Plus, this was a good way to keep her mind off everything else.

Which was actually why she was here. She needed to keep her mind off everything else.

Inside the Inn, just behind the hostess desk, she saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Hope hid her wince as the woman beamed at her. “Well, hello, Hope … I bet you’re here to talk wedding plans …”

“Ah … if Roz has a few minutes …” She gave the woman’s discreet gold name tag a quick glance. “Tammy.”

“Normally we do prefer appointments, but you’re a friend of Roz’s.” Then she winked. “And family to me. I’m Remy’s third cousin—one of many.”

“Many, many,” Hope said before she could stop herself. This time, she didn’t hide her wince. “I’m sorry. I’m still trying to adjust to tripping over soon-to-be relatives every time I turn around.”

“It’s okay. I still don’t know who all I’m related to and I’ve lived here all my life.” Tammy smiled. With a wave of her hand, she gestured down the hall. “Go down there and go through the door marked private. There’s a hallway and you want the first doorway on the right. That’s Roz’s office. She should be in there or in the kitchen.”

Hope smiled her thanks and headed down the hall. As she did, she pulled out her phone. She was supposed to be over at Law’s, working there, but she suspected Nia would be there and she wasn’t up to feeling the vibes between those two, plus she’d promised Remy she wouldn’t be anywhere alone for the next few days.

This commitment and compromise stuff was a headache. Tapping out a message to him to let him know where she was, she sent it off before slipping through the marked doorway.

Roz’s office was empty.

Hope started to head back—the kitchen was on the other side of the house, but she heard a familiar voice, one that sounded a lot like Lena’s. Rather weird, because Lena shouldn’t be working today. Curious, she headed down the hallway.

She passed by a set of glass doors that opened out onto a private patio, one she hadn’t seen before. Glancing outside, she saw Roz. Carter was with her, his head bent close to hers, nodding.

Roz leaned against him, her shoulders trembling, shaking.

Embarrassed, Hope looked away and headed down the hallway, following what had sounded like Lena’s voice.

She came to a kitchen—a smaller, trendier version of the kitchen where Lena did all of her cooking. But Lena wasn’t hard at work on anything. She was standing with her hips against an island, her eyes shaded by the lenses of her glasses and head downcast.

“Hey.”

Lena jumped, startled. “What the …” She listed to the side and slammed a hand against the island to get her balance.

Puck growled, responding to Lena, liquid eyes focused on Hope’s face, lip curled to show those very impressive teeth.

“Hey, it’s just me—Hope.” Her heart banged against her ribs.

Puck barked at her.

Nervously, Hope backed away a step.

“Down, Puck,” Lena snapped, righting herself. “Fuck. Damn it, Hope. I’m sorry. I’m just a little freaked out right now and anytime I’m afraid, he does this.” She licked her lips and then said, “Ah … are you alone right now?”

Automatically, Hope glanced around. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t ask.” She laughed sourly and then sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Did Roz send you back here?”

“No. I was looking for her—thinking about asking her to help coordinate the wedding even if we don’t get married here. But I heard you.” She shrugged nervously, smoothing a hand down her jeans as she wandered into the kitchen. “I thought maybe you were in here talking to her, but I saw her outside on my way back here.”