If You Hear Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (40 page)

“Let’s hope Nielson is just erring on the side of caution,” she said, forcing herself to smile.

Ezra remained quiet.

Hope’s eyes jumped to the phone as Lena’s low, smooth voice rolled out of the answering machine.

Sheriff.

Lena … and Ezra.

Her heart raced and part of her wanted to hope.

But she knew better.

He stood behind her, big, hard hands on her shoulders. What was he going to do …?

But even as that question rolled through her mind, he was already doing it.

The last thing she remembered was a hot, bright flash of pain.

Then darkness.

M
AYBE IT WAS JUST
E
ZRA
’
S QUIET
,
TENSE MOOD
. Maybe it was just the culmination of her own tension. After all, the past few weeks had been sheer chaos. The most terrifying night of her life, Ezra’s appearance in her life, the discovery of the body at Law’s place—it was enough to make anybody paranoid.

Then there was Ezra himself, and all the … personal changes he’d brought to her life, and even though the changes were all for the better, it seemed, they were still drastic changes.

Too much going on, that’s all it was. That was why she was so on edge. At least that was what she wanted to think, what she tried to make herself believe.

That was why she had the hot, restless feeling crawling around under her skin all of a sudden.

As they pulled up in front of Law’s house, she wanted to believe it was something not real—just her imagination. Just stress. Just … something.

Because she couldn’t think about how to handle it if by some slim chance Nielson was right. It was a thought that had crept in only seconds ago and it wouldn’t let go. With its claws sinking deep inside, the worry and doubt twisted and turned inside her, tearing and gnawing.

The car slowed to a stop and she took a deep breath.
Everything is fine
, she told herself.
Everything is fine
.

They’d get up there and they’d knock on the door and Law would open it and everything would be fine.

Gripping Puck’s leash tightly, she opened the door and climbed out. Her heart was racing. The skin on the back of her neck stood on end. Everything inside her was on red alert. She was strung so tight when Ezra moved up to stand beside her, she jumped, even though she heard him coming.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Just a little edgy,” she murmured. “Is the sheriff already here?”

“On the porch, waiting for us.”

Reaching for his arm, she took a deep breath. “Then we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Mentally, she told herself,
Let’s get this over with. We’ll see Law, see Hope, and everything will be fine
. But the closer she got to that house, the more wrong everything felt. And it didn’t help when Puck whined, tugging on his leash.

Not fighting her, though. Pulling her, toward the house. When he got to the door, he started nosing at it, and to Lena’s surprise, he scratched at it, a soft, low whine coming from his throat.

Lena crouched down by Puck, curling a hand around his neck and scratching his ears. “What’s wrong, boy?” she murmured.

Nielson didn’t seem to notice as he knocked on the door.

There was no answer and after another thirty seconds passed, Puck scratched at the door again.

“Think they might have gone somewhere?” Nielson asked as he knocked again.

Puck was getting more anxious by the second.

Trying not to let her voice shake, Lena said, “We need
to get inside.” Sliding her backpack off, she unzipped it and started digging around inside for her keys. Ages ago, Law had given her a spare set. He was notorious for locking himself out of the house, or losing his keys, so she kept a spare set for him.

As she pulled the keys out, Nielson said, “Ms. Riddle, I can’t just enter a private residence.”

“Fine. You don’t enter. I will.”

“Give me the keys, Lena,” Ezra said quietly. He reached over and tugged them gently from her hands, and just as easily, he nudged her side. “Let me go in first.”

“Ezra …”

He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. “Just stay with Puck, Lena. It’s going to be fine.”

She was so pale, he thought. They had left in such a hurry, she’d left her sunglasses at home and right now, her crystalline blue eyes were almost glassy with worry, fear. Tearing his gaze from her face, he looked at Nielson. “Something has her dog freaked out. If it comes down to it, I’ll take the heat on this. I’m here as a private citizen anyway, and Lena’s got keys to the place, so she has a lawful right to enter.”

He eased the door open and slid inside. It didn’t take any time to realize there wasn’t going to be any heat coming down—extreme circumstances covered all sorts of bases.

Lena lifted a hand and covered her nose. “Holy shit, what is that smell?” she asked.

“Lena, you need to wait in the car,” Ezra said quietly.

“What?”

“Take Puck and go wait in the car.”

Lena balked. But Puck was tugging at the lead, whining low in his throat. He gave a low bark and tried once more to tug Lena inside the house. “I’m not going to the car,” she said softly.

Ezra went to grab her arm and Puck whirled, hackles rising. The dog bared his teeth, snarling in warning.

Instinctively, he backed away and it gave the dog the few seconds he needed to guide his mistress inside. “Damn it, Lena. There might be somebody in here,” Ezra snapped.

“Don’t you think Puck would know if there was?” she said, her voice oddly calm considering how pale she was.

“You want me to trust a dog.”

She tossed him a grimace over her shoulder as she let Puck lead her deeper into the house. “Why not? I do every day of my life.”

Shit, shit, shit—

Nielson followed and the look in his eyes was one of disgust and resignation. He knew the stink in the air, knew it as well as Ezra did. “She needs to get the hell out,” Nielson said as they moved to catch up with her. “We can’t be certain the house is secure.”

“Actually, I think we can,” Ezra said, although he definitely wasn’t too big on just trusting a dog’s instincts. “If there was anybody here who was a danger to Lena, her dog wouldn’t be walking her inside—I guarantee that.”

Apparently both dog and woman were on a mission and it took less than thirty seconds to find out why.

The metallic, coppery scent of blood was stronger than the stink of death, now. “At least let me check things out,” Ezra snapped, easing past her in the hallway. Slowly, he opened the door, scanning the brightly lit kitchen. The smell of blood was getting stronger and stronger.

The source of it lay on the floor, completely and utterly still.

“Oh, fuck,” he snarled.

“What?” Lena demanded, her voice trembling. “Law?”

“No. It’s Hope. She slit her damned wrists, looks like.”
There was a scream in his head—warning, warning, warning—something wrong. Way wrong.

There was a gun lying discarded by the kitchen island, dropped there almost like an afterthought.

A baseball bat.

One sharp-ass knife.

Kneeling in the growing pool of Hope’s blood, he grabbed her wrists. Thank God—her skin was still warm. She was pale, but her skin was warm. “Lena, call nine-one-one.”

Nielson said, “I’m already on it.” He stood in the doorway, his face grim, his eyes dark. “Think that’s what the dog was going on about?”

Silence fell, stretched out forever. “Where’s Law?” Lena whispered.

Ezra looked up and met Nielson’s stare. “Can you search the house?”

The sheriff nodded and as he quietly slipped out of the room, Ezra concentrated on Hope. Concentrated on making the blood stop. Concentrated on anything but the wooden baseball bat that lay just a few feet away from him. On one end, it had bloody handprints on it.

Prints too small to belong to a man. On the other end, there was more blood … and something else he didn’t want to think about.

“Ezra, is she okay? Is … is she going to be okay?” Lena asked quietly.

Gruffly, he said, “I don’t know, baby. She’s not conscious, but this didn’t happen long ago. The blood … I think it’s clotting up.”

“Why would she …?”

Tearing his eyes away from Hope, he looked at Lena. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” It didn’t make sense, none of it.

Like she’d read his mind, Lena shook her head. “Something’s not right, Ezra. She was fine when she left my place—fine. Why in the hell would she have done this?”

Ezra didn’t know what to say to that.

More often than not, Lena was content with her lot in life—she couldn’t see, so what? She had her own life, had a job she loved, had friends … and for the past few weeks, she even had a lover, a man in her life who liked her just fine, the way she was.

But right then, she wanted to be able to use her eyes.

All but trapped in the corner of the kitchen, she couldn’t do anything but listen as the paramedics barked at each other—it sounded like a foreign language, clipped phrases, numbers rattled off in seemingly random order.

The air in her lungs shrank down to next to nothing. All she could smell was the blood—like it lined the inside of her nose. She desperately wanted to leave the kitchen, even if it was just to go out to the porch, but she was afraid to move, afraid she might get in their way just then. Hope—had she really …

No.

Lena shook her head. Closing her eyes, she said quietly, “No.”

Even though she said it just to herself, it helped. It wasn’t right—the pieces didn’t fit.

The paramedics had arrived in a loud, fast rush, and in a loud, fast rush, they were gone. The silence was so sudden, it left her head spinning. Reaching down, she touched her hand to Puck’s head. “Find Ezra,” she murmured.

Her head was spinning. Blood roared in her ears.

Shock, she told herself.

That was why she was still hearing the echo of paramedics talking.

She crashed right into Ezra. He’d disappeared only seconds
after the paramedics showed on the scene—she had no idea where he’d gone. Burying her hands in his T-shirt, she curled her fingers into the damp, worn material.

“Damn it, where have you been?” she demanded and she hated the pitiful whine she heard in her voice.

“Lena …” He lifted his hands. They rested on her shoulders.

When he leaned in and pressed his lips to her brow, she sighed and relaxed against him. “I’m sorry. I think I’m freaking out a little bit here. Where in the hell is Law?”

A loud, booming voice drifted from somewhere … somewhere close.

“BP is stable …”

Swallowing, Lena pulled back.

Okay, she had heard that. And that was not one of the paramedics who had been working on Hope, either. So it was another paramedic. And if there was another paramedic here, that meant there was somebody else hurt.

No. Oh, no.

Tension mounted inside her, turning her muscles rigid. “Ezra. Where is Law?” she asked, her voice soft, all but soundless.

He stroked his hands down her arms. “We found him in his office, Lena. He … ah … somebody worked him over pretty bad. The paramedics are with him, getting him ready to take to the hospital.”

“Wuh …” She licked her lips. “What do you mean, somebody worked him over?”

“He’s been beaten. Bad.”

“No.” Lena shook her head. “That’s just bullshit. He was just over at my place. A couple of hours ago. He was fine. Hope was fine. She went shopping. She had fun. Law is fine. Nobody would … no. Nobody would hurt him,” she said, her voice breaking. “I need to see him. I have to talk to him.”

“You can’t, baby. Not right now.” Ezra caught her in his arms and pulled her close. “The paramedics are taking him in, Lena. They have to get him to the hospital. He’s been hurt really bad and they have to get him to the hospital.”

Hospital …

Law.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. Burying her face against the front of Ezra’s shirt, she started to cry.

Rocking her, Ezra stroked a hand down her slender back. The sobs wracked her entire body, nearly choked her. Helpless in the face of her grief, he murmured to her, kissed her temple, and held her. There was nothing more he could do.

When the paramedics rolled Law by, he lifted his head and stared at the battered face of Lena’s best friend.

No.

There was one other thing he could do.

He was going to find out who had done this.

He didn’t carry his badge anymore, but this shit? It was going to stop.

There was a third body left in the house.

There was no need for an ambulance, though.

Crouching down by Prather’s lifeless body, Nielson sighed and tried to figure out just what in the hell was going on.

“What in the world were you doing here, son?” he muttered.

His team was outside, waiting for him to clear them in, although there wasn’t much point in keeping them out. This scene had already been blown to hell and back. Hope Carson’s suicide attempt, Law Reilly’s brutal assault, and Earl Prather’s murder.

It was one big tangle and somehow he knew getting
the snags out of this wasn’t going to be easy, fast, or pretty.