“The rumors that come out of this won’t amuse him,” Ezra said.
“No. You’re right.” Her scowl darkened, anger bringing a flush to her face. “I’m damn well not amused right now.”
He reached out and caught her hand, twining his fingers with hers. As they finished the drive into town, she stroked her thumb along the back of his hand.
They were in one hell of a mess, he knew. And everything in him was on edge, alert. It was somehow connected to Lena.
Nothing would happen to her.
Nothing could.
Amazing how somebody he’d known such a short time could already be so necessary to his life.
Friends …
He smiled a little.
Hell, what had he been thinking?
LAW REILLY WASN’T UNDER ARREST.
How in the fuck had this happened?
Not under arrest.
A woman’s body found on his property. Turning away from the municipal building, he started to walk. Couldn’t linger. Couldn’t have anybody notice him acting weird.
Well, weirder than normal.
He took a few minutes to duck inside the bookstore, picking up a cup of coffee, a few books he’d ordered in. On the inside, he twitched with nerves, but on the outside, he was calm, collected, carrying on a conversation with Ang as he perused the shelves.
She was a fount of information. Not a gossip like some, but she knew things. Heard things.
As he picked up a paperback, she glanced across the street and said, “Something weird is going on.”
“Huh?” Giving her a vaguely confused look, he glanced up.
“I’m not sure what, but Nielson doesn’t go in on Saturdays unless there’s something major and there are more deputies hanging around than normal.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Something weird.”
“Hmmm.”
Weird was right. So far, he hadn’t heard a damn thing about his girl or Reilly. Somebody should be talking. People talked in a small town and they talked a lot. This sort of thing should have people talking up a virtual storm.
But nobody was. It was like nothing had happened—like nobody knew a damn thing.
Almost like she hadn’t been discovered.
He wasn’t stupid enough to have lingered—he knew better than that. But they did know—the police had discovered the body. For some reason, they were just keeping it quiet.
Keeping a lot of things quiet.
Disgusted, he thought about all the trouble he’d gone to, all the plans he’d made.
All for nothing.
Law Reilly was walking around a free man.
Pretending to read, he watched as Law headed across the street. An unfamiliar dove-gray car, fancy as hell, pulled into a parking spot just a little down from the bookstore and he watched as the doors opened. He didn’t recognize the car, but he recognized the gleaming, dark red of Lena’s hair just fine.
And the cop.
There was a woman with them—unknown … no. He did know her. Or at least he’d seen her.
The little mouse from the other day, her long hair pulled into a ponytail. She wore a T-shirt that swallowed her skinny body and worn, faded jeans. She was the last one out of the car, but the first one to reach Law Reilly, running toward him and as she drew near, the man’s arms opened to enfold her.
So. The little mouse wasn’t just passing through town?
Law pressed his lips to Hope’s forehead and then raised his head and stared into her pale green eyes. She opened her mouth and he snapped, “If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to get mad.”
“I’m so … um. Okay.”
“Hope, it’s not your fault, none of this. So quit apologizing.” He tugged on her ponytail, like he had done a thousand times in their youth.
“I feel like I’m just supposed to say something,” she mumbled.
He sighed. “Yeah. But there’s not much to say.” He glanced up, looked from Lena to Ezra. “Thank you.”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d tell you I’d deck you if you ever drag me out of bed at one A.M. again, but these are pretty abnormal circumstances,” Ezra said, his smile humorless. Then he glanced at Hope. Although nothing showed in his eyes, Law could tell—the cop got it. He understood. “Besides, you had good reason.”
Lena reached out a hand and out of habit, Law caught it. She squeezed his fingers and said, “Was he able to tell you anything?”
“Yeah, just a little bit more than nothing.” He wanted to go home. Shower. He felt dirty, inside and out. “Can we get out of here?”
“Well …” Lena licked her lips and turned her face to Ezra’s.
“I want to hang around town awhile.”
Seeing the way Law’s face tightened, Ezra lifted a hand. Then he dipped his head and murmured in Lena’s ear, “Can you give me a minute? I need to talk to Law without Hope. I don’t want to freak her out any more than she already is.”
“Hmm.” She turned her face to his, touched her lips to his. “I’ll buy that. But you better not be doing this out of some weird desire to coddle me.”
Ezra chuckled. “If I tried to coddle you, I think you might decide to shave me bald while I slept.”
“Oh, now there’s an idea.” She smoothed a hand up his neck and then pushed her fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’d do a tidy job, either.
“Hope, why don’t we head down to the Grapevine? It’s a little coffee and dessert café on the other side of the square. I don’t want much in the way of food, but I could use an iced latte or something.”
As they walked off, Ezra jerked his head toward Law and they started to walk as well, following the same path as the women, but slower. “Nobody knows what happened at your place yet,” he said, keeping his voice low. He slid a pair of sunglasses down over his eyes, even though the day was overcast. “Nielson didn’t want anybody knowing until he’d spoken with you—especially since it looked like it was done to frame you—and a shitty frame, I’ve gotta say. So nobody but the sheriff, his boys, and us know.”
“And the man who killed her,” Law said, his voice harsh.
“Yes. And chances are, that guy is expecting to hear that you’re in jail. He’s probably expecting to hear all sorts of wailing, gnashing of teeth, wringing of hands.”
“You can’t hear people wringing their hands.” Law kicked at a pebble on the ground, watched as it skipped along the surface.
“You get the point. He’s expecting certain reactions … and I bet anything he’s here waiting. Just waiting and watching.”
Law slid Ezra a sidelong glance. “And you want to parade me around like a monkey in a tuxedo, see if you can see who’s watching?”
“You’re a quick study.” He went to say something else, but a kid crashed into him—a surly kid with angry eyes, a cigarette jutting out of his mouth, and all sorts of attitude hanging from him.
Without bothering to apologize, the kid shoved off Ezra and turned to glare over his shoulder. “I said no fucking way.”
Ezra glanced up and found the object of the kid’s ire.
It was the lawyer from the sheriff’s office.
Jennings. Remy Jennings—Lena’s ex-boyfriend.
“And I said, yes, fucking way, Brody, and as luck would have it …” Remy gave Ezra a narrow glance. “Ezra King, correct?”
“Yeah, but I’m a little busy.”
“This won’t take much time.” A thin smile curled his lips. “This boy is Brody—I believe he did some damage to your property a couple weeks ago. I meant to drag his sorry butt over there to help with the cleanup, but I’ve had my hands full with a case. It’s probably a little bit late, but have you already finished cleaning up the mess he made?”
“Actually, no. Haven’t even started.” Ezra crossed his hands over his chest, studying the sullen boy’s face, although he made sure he could still see Lena and Hope. Law was doing the same thing, he noticed. Watching the women.
Glancing back at Brody, he aske
d, “How old are you, kid?”
“Fourteen.”
“Huh.” Shooting out a hand, he plucked the cigarette from Brody’s mouth and dropped it on the ground, grinding it under his foot before the boy had even processed what he’d done. “You’re underage.”
“You fucking asshole!”
“Yeah.” Looking back at Remy, he waited.
“Brody’s going to come help with the cleanup—”
“No, I ain’t.”
“Because if he doesn’t, I’m going to make sure that complaint gets drawn up, I’ll make sure it gets signed, and I’ll personally deliver it to my brother,” Remy said, continuing on as if Brody hadn’t spoken.
Aggravated and only listening with half an ear, Ezra tracked Lena and Hope’s progress around the square. Behind the shield of his sunglasses, he was able to watch, without looking like he was watching—a skill picked up during years on the force.
“Will that work?”
Ezra glanced at the skinny kid, let his brain catch up with the conversation. “Right now, my hands are a little too full to worry about dealing with the damage he did.”
“I understand that easy enough. However, he either needs to pay for the damage or fix it himself.” Remy cocked a brow. “Personally, I think it would do him a world of good to fix it himself.”
Personally speaking, Ezra agreed with the lawyer. But he didn’t have time to deal with a pissed-off teenager—even if the kid was going through a bad spot.
The skin along the back of his spine started to crawl and he shifted his glance, focused his eyes once more on Lena and Hope.
They’d stopped dead on the sidewalk. Puck was standing stiff-legged next to Lena, and although it was too far away to be sure, it looked like the dog’s hackles were up.
A chill went down Ezra’s spine.
The dog was protective, but well-behaved. Protective as hell, but he was an easygoing companion. He had to be.
He watched as Lena tugged on the dog’s leash, but Puck wouldn’t budge.
“Law.”
“Yeah. I see it.”
“You ever see him do that?”
“No.”
Remy glanced behind, his eyes following the direction of their gaze, curious. The lawyer was sharp, pinpointed what they were looking at too damn quickly. But Ezra didn’t wait long enough for him to ask any questions. Glancing at the kid, then at Remy, he said, “Once I’m ready to get to work on the yard, I’ll try to remember to call. But he’ll work and when I say work, I mean he’ll work his sorry butt into the ground.”
Then he and Law started forward.
Puck’s body was all but vibrating under her hand. He was growling, too, a low, warning growl that would have terrified her if she had been on the receiving end of that growl.
“We need to head back to the guys,” Lena said softly, trying not to let her unease show in her voice. Squeezing Hope’s arm, she started to turn around, even though she had a bad, bad feeling about giving her back to anybody. She wasn’t going to keep standing there, either.
A target—
Shit. That’s what she felt like.
A damn target.
Lena didn’t do vulnerable. She’d worked too damned hard to build a life—on her own—and she was proud of the fact that she’d done just that. Vulnerable implied a weakness.
But just then? She felt vulnerable, like a rabbit out in an exposed field, just waiting for a hawk to swoop down.
Eyes … she could almost feel them crawling all over her.
“What’s wrong?” Hope asked, her voice quiet, just the slightest bit shaky.
“Puck.” Now that they were moving away, the dog was willing to move. But for a few minutes there, he hadn’t been willing to go forward, and he hadn’t let her move, either. His body had stiffened and he had stood there, growling in his throat, a low, threatening growl.
It wasn’t directed at her—she knew that.
He’d seen something … someone.
“Come on, boy,” she said, guiding him around as they started down the street. He came along easily, his big body a solid weight at her side, pressing close as though to remind her he wasn’t about to let her change her mind—or her direction.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Lena turned her face toward Hope, unsure what to say. She licked her lips and finally just murmured, “I’m not really sure.”
She could still feel it, the weight of somebody’s gaze drilling into her back.
“Something, or somebody, back there bothers him. He doesn’t want me near whatever, whoever it was.” She felt Hope’s intention and she tightened her grip. “Don’t look back. Whoever it is. Don’t look back. There’s a good chance they won’t pay much attention to me,” liar, “or Puck, but don’t let anybody see you looking for them.”
She lied. She knew she lied. Whoever had been watching her was paying way too much attention to her.
But that person wouldn’t see her as a threat. It wasn’t like Lena could pick somebody out of a lineup. No, he might be watching Lena with burning interest, but he also would have seen Hope and if he thought Hope might have seen him …
“Shit,” she whispered. Her stomach was jumping, knotting with fear.
What in the hell was going on?
She heard Hope swallow, heard the unsteadiness in the other woman’s voice as she said, “I see Law and Ezra. They are heading our way—fast. Law looks pissed. Ezra … he, uh … he’s got his cop face on.”
“Then he’s pissed, too.” Lena didn’t even have to see him to know that.
Odd, how she could so easily peg him, how well she already knew him.
The men were in front of them twenty seconds later. She all but felt the force of Ezra’s personality beating at her, the heat of him, his concern … everything that made him who he was. His hands cupped her face, arched it up to meet his.
To all the world, it might have looked like a lover’s kiss … and it was.
But nobody other than Hope or Law could have heard his softly whispered, “What’s wrong?”
Lena rubbed her lips against his. “I don’t know. Puck … he just all of a sudden stopped. He was growling. I reached down to touch him and his hackles were all up. He doesn’t act like that, Ezra. Ever.”
“Actually, he sort of did.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek and then slid his hands down to her shoulders, rubbing at them restlessly. “That night at Law’s. Remember how he acted? He didn’t want to get out of the car. He kept staring into the trees.”
“Like somebody was there … or had been,” she murmured. She swallowed, her stomach crashing to her feet. And somebody had been there … long enough to leave a woman’s lifeless body behind.
“This was worse, though,” Ezra said.
“Yeah.” Crouching down by Puck, she stroked a hand down his head, scratched him behind his ears. He whined low in his throat. “Shhh. It’s okay, boy. It’s okay. Maybe he saw him, or smelled him.”
Law’s voice was a low, threatening snarl. “Who?”
“The same guy he smelled that night.” She rose. Her hands were shaking, she realized. Sweaty and shaking. She was afraid. It fucking pissed her off.
Law brushed past her. Reaching out, she caught his hand. “Where you going?”
“Just want to take a look around.”
“And look for what? And how will you manage to do it without looking conspicuous?” Lowering his voice, Ezra said, “If there’s a chance he’s here, and you go looking around, you’re doing it with a big fat warning sign on your forehead. Be smart. Okay?”
The last thing Law wanted was to be smart. Lena knew him too well. But in the end, he relented. She had to wonder how much of that had to do with her and Hope, though. If it was just him, she suspected he might prowl the town until he found something; no. Someone.
Resting a hand on her belly, Lena said, “Ezra, I know you want to sit around town for a while. And I’m sorry. But I really, really want to get out of here.”
Hell. What she wanted was to go home, climb in her bed with Ezra next to her, cuddle up and just stay there.
But somehow, she knew that wasn’t an option.
“You can’t be serious, Uncle Remy,” Brody snapped.
Remy wondered if the kid had realized that he had actually called him “uncle.” It had been months, maybe even a year … longer since he had done that. Reaching up, he grabbed the pack of cigarettes from Brody’s hand before the kid could shake one loose.
He shoved them in his pocket, crumpling the flimsy pack in his fist. “Yes, Brody, I am serious. Dead serious. And by the way, if you don’t quit smoking, I’m getting serious about a couple of other things, too.”
“Hell. You used to smoke when you were a kid. What the fuck is the problem?”
“Part of the problem? I’ll tell you.” Stepping closer to the teenaged boy—already so close to being a man, yet still just a kid—he reached up and caught the gold chain that peeked out from under the ragged neckline of the boy’s black T-shirt.
It held a gold cross. It had belonged to Brody’s mother. “Your mom just died of cancer, Brody. Her dad died of cancer. And here you are smoking. What are you trying to do, break your dad’s heart?”
For about two seconds, the sweet kid Remy remembered seemed to stare back at him—sad, angry, young, and so vulnerable, but then he was gone. “Not like he gives a fuck anyway.”
As the teen stalked off, Remy pulled the mangled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and studied them. He’d quit smoking ten years ago. But there were times when he really craved it. Right now? One of those times.
Tossing the cigarettes into a nearby waste receptacle, Remy was about to head back to his car. He had plenty of work he had to get done. Plenty.
A familiar, dark red head of hair caught his eye and he found himself studying Lena’s averted profile. Law Reilly and Ezra King were with her. So was another woman. She looked vaguely familiar. A breeze kicked up, whipping her long brown hair around her shoulders. That was all it took to trigger the memory.
The square. Prather. The bookstore.
Standing next to Lena’s long, leggy form, she looked delicate. Delicate had never really done much of anything for Remy. So why was his mouth going dry?
If You Hear Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Page 23
