If You Hear Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (27 page)

Shaking the weirdness from his head, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table. Seeing Lena’s number had his heart skipping a beat, but he forced the fear down, buried it under a layer of ice. “Hey, beautiful. Kind of late … are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice husky, soft and sleepy. “But apparently there’s something weird going on at Law’s.”

“I thought he was out of town.”

“He is. But he’s got a friend staying there. Look, this is a fricking mess and I need coffee before I can try to explain. Will you pretty please just come over here and pick me up? Drive me over there?”

He looked at the clock. Shit. “You do know what time it is, right? It’s just a few minutes past one.”

“I know.” She muffled a yawn. “Trust me, I know. But … hell, Ezra. Law never asks me for anything and he sounded … scared.”

Shit.

He was pretty sure there was something in a relationship handbook somewhere that required him to help out his woman’s friends in times of need.

Even if those friends were like Law—a guy who was dying to get inside her pants. Scraping his nails down the heavy growth of stubble on his face, he sighed and stood up. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Less.”

After he disconnected the phone, he got up and walked over to his closet. There was a fire safe on the top shelf. Even touching it was enough to make him break out in a sweat. But he did it anyway. Before slamming the door,
he grabbed his shoulder holster as well and a lightweight denim jacket.

Dressing quickly, he took the fire safe into the kitchen. By then, his hands were shaking so bad, it took two tries before he could get the little silver key on his key ring to go into the damn lock.

Opening it up, he didn’t give himself time to think, he just grabbed the matte-black Glock and loaded it.

In another minute, he was heading out the front door.

To keep from thinking about the gun, he focused on Lena. Only on Lena.

“I’
M GOING TO POUND HIS DAMN ASS INTO THE
ground,” Ezra snapped.

“He wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.” Lena rested her head against the back of the seat and tried to quell the churning in her gut, but it wasn’t happening.

“Shit. That guy gets the basics of law enforcement—you suspect an intruder, you call the cops.”

“He’s got a friend there,” Lena said, her voice quiet. “Law just doesn’t have friends out at his place. He doesn’t. And he doesn’t ask for favors. But he asked me for one. I can’t tell him no.”

Ezra almost missed the turnoff. Law liked his privacy—guarded it the way a dog guarded a beloved bone, one might say. Paranoid—had Ezra called him a little paranoid? He hadn’t been detailed enough.

Exactly what was the deal with this friend, anyway?

“There are lights on,” Ezra said softly, as they rounded a bend. “A lot of them. No county cars here yet.”

“Law will be giving us time to get here.” The car stopped in front of the house and she climbed out, called for Puck. The dog jumped out, but there was a reluctance to his steps. He made a sound low in his throat, tugging against his harness.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, it made her heart skip a beat.

“Ezra, you don’t see anything, do you?”

“If I did, you really think I would have let you get out of the car?” he asked. His voice was weary. “Puck is staring off toward the woods. Past the house. It’s not Law’s place that’s got him spooked … it’s something else, out in the woods. Whoever it is, whatever it is, don’t think he’s still here, though. That bruiser of yours is too calm. He doesn’t like being here, but I get the feeling if somebody was still out there, he’d be all but dragging you inside the car.”

“Hmm.” Lena rested a hand on Puck’s head and smiled. “Hear that, boy? He’s calling you a bruiser.” In that moment, she was feeling very, very appreciative of her dog, too.

An eerie, cold tingle raced down her spine and she gripped Puck’s leash tighter.
Hope you’ve called the sheriff’s office by now, Law
, she thought. “Hey, do you … ah, do you have a gun?”

There was a brief pause. “Yeah. I’ve got one.” His voice was brusque, hoarse. “Seriously hoping I don’t ever need to use it, but I’ve got one and yes, I brought it.”

Blowing out a breath, he said, “What’s the deal here, Lena? Why was it so important that we come here before he could call the police?”

“I don’t really know. All he told me was that he had a friend here and that if she saw a uniform, she’d freak out.”

He started to swear, long and hard.

“Stop,” Lena said. “Whoever it is, it’s not because she’s had trouble with the law. He’s not a pushover. If whoever it was had legal trouble, they’d just have to deal with it—Law wouldn’t be dragging me out of bed over something like that.”

She pushed her hair back from her face and sighed.
“You’re right, you know. Law does have a decent understanding of how things in law enforcement work—he really does. He wouldn’t have asked this if it wasn’t important.”

Ezra’s only response was an irritated grunt.

Resting her hand on his arm, she said, “Come on. Let’s go talk to this friend of his.”

Law couldn’t have timed his call to the police more perfectly. Lena had just knocked on the door when they heard the first wail of sirens.

She heard footsteps, but they froze, as though the woman inside had heard the sirens, too. “Hope …? Hope, my name’s Lena. Law called me, asked me to come over. He figured you’d want somebody else here …”

The door cracked open.

Lena stood there waiting, Puck at her side, Ezra at her back.

“Law called the police.” A soft, thready voice came from inside the house.

God. There was so much terror in that voice, Lena thought. Four words … and there was more fear in those four words than Lena thought she’d ever heard in her entire life, more fear than Lena had ever felt in her entire life.

What had been done to this girl to make her so scared of cops?

“Yeah. He was worried about you … said you saw somebody moving around outside. He wants to make sure you’re safe.”

Hope gave a strained, tight laugh. “Safe.”

The door inched open just a tad bit wider. Reaching up a hand, Lena rested it on the door. Then she turned her face to Ezra. “Maybe you could wait out here a little bit … give me a minute?”

Ezra sighed. “Yeah.” He caught her arm, tugged her close. Dipping his head, he murmured softly into her ear,
“It’s not going to help much, though. They’ll have to talk to her. And Law wasn’t wrong. She’s so damned scared, she looks like she’s about ready to go through the roof if somebody even looks at her wrong.”

The last damn person Ezra wanted to see climb out of that county car was Earl Prather.

As it slowed to a stop, Ezra closed his eyes, muttering under his breath, “Please not him. Please. I’ll be good. I’ll go to church and sit right next to Miss Lucy. I’ll put fifty—no, a hundred bucks in the offering plate next Sunday. I swear.”

As Prather climbed out, Ezra shot a dirty look up at the sky. “Not much for deal-making, huh?”

But he wiped the disgust off his face and by the time Prather drew even with him, he had his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands folded on his belly. All he needed was a bottle of beer and he couldn’t have looked more relaxed. Sometimes, as much as he hated to admit it, appearances were everything.

“Nice night, huh, Deputy?”

Prather gave him a look of acute dislike. “What are you doing here?”

“Lena got a call, was asked to come over. As she can’t exactly drive over, I gave her a lift.”

“You just happened to be handy?” Prather asked, narrowing his eyes.

Ezra gave him a slow smile. “Well, I won’t go into detail about that. My mama raised me right, you know, and she’d have my hide if I was talking about a lady that way.”

“Humph. So why in the hell did Reilly call Lena and nine-one-one in the middle of the night?”

“Hey, I’m not the cop here.” He shrugged and played dumb. “On leave, remember? Plus, I’m out of my jurisdiction. I’m just playing chauffeur tonight. I heard somebody
was nosing around the back, though.” He arched his brows and said, “Hey, maybe he’s still back there … hiding. You could catch him and bring him in.”

As Prather waddled away, Ezra rolled his eyes and stood up.
Idiot
. Then he slipped inside the house. He hated like hell that he was going to have to scare the pretty girl inside the house, but she was going to have to talk to Prather and maybe, just maybe, he could prepare her for that a little bit better.

He hoped.

He had cop eyes.

That was the first thing Hope noticed as he came into the room, limping just a little.

The second thing she noticed was the way he lingered by the pretty redhead and stroked a hand down her hair, rested a hand on her shoulder. Lena reached up and covered his hand with hers.

Something about that simple, sweet gesture made Hope’s throat ache.

She remembered that kind of touch from her childhood—her mother and father had shared them, all the time. God, what would they think if they could see how things had turned out for her? If they hadn’t died in that car wreck?

Shame, slippery and tight, washed through her and she looked away.

It wasn’t just shame, though. Envy curled through her and that left her feeling more than a little dismayed. After Joey, she hadn’t thought she’d be able to see those casual little touches between a man and a woman and feel even the slightest bit jealous, but here she was.

Although the thought of a light, gentle touch was enough to make her break out in a light sweat, she found herself wondering what it would be like to have somebody touch her like that … just because. That “I’m
touching you because I can’t not touch you” sort of touch. The way her parents had touched each other.

Joey had liked to touch her in public. A lot. But it had been a possessive thing—as in, she was another one of his possessions. He’d liked to touch her that way. He’d liked to …

No. No. No.
No
.

You’re not there anymore
, she reminded herself.

She focused on her reflection in the mirror and reminded herself where she was … and where she wasn’t.

Then she turned around and looked at the cop, made herself look at him and that was when she noticed something else about him. As he took a seat a few feet away from her, she saw that while he had cop eyes, there was also kindness in them.

Joey’s eyes hadn’t ever really been kind. He’d used to hide behind a beguiling veneer of charm and affability, but kindness? No. He didn’t have it in him. It had taken her years to realize that, though.

“Hey.” The cop smiled at her and it was the same slow, gentle smile one would use with a scared child, a stray dog.

Hope hated that she felt about as likely to bolt as a nervous, scared stray. Although it felt like her face might crack, she gave him a nervous smile in return. “Hi.”

“You look like you’re having one hell of a night. I’m Ezra … Ezra King. A friend of Lena’s, a friend of Law’s. And you’re Hope, right? You okay there, Hope?”

Hope shrugged, a jerky, restless shrug. Her head was pounding, aching, and her shoulders were so tight, so tense, one wrong move felt like it would cause her to shatter.

“Seeing somebody out there where they shouldn’t be—that’s going to give anybody a bad turn.” He took a deep breath and then said, “The county sheriff’s office sent a deputy out. He’s taking a look out back, but he’ll
have to talk to you. Just tell him what you saw—it will take a few minutes, then you’re done. Lena can stay in here with you, if you want.”

Hope swallowed. Her throat was so dry, that simple action hurt.

“Yes. Please. If you don’t mind, Lena.” She hated having to ask that of a total stranger, but oh, hell, if she had to be alone with a sheriff’s deputy—even the thought of it was enough to make her hands start to sweat.

Lena smiled. “Nah, I don’t mind. Trust me, you aren’t getting me out of this house until you get me some coffee …” The dog at her side sat up, his head cocked.

Hope watched as his owner leaned forward, rested a hand on his head. “What is it, pal?” she murmured, stroking his head.

The dog just sat there, watchful. Alert. Listening.

Looking away from the dog, trying not to think about the county deputy wandering around outside, Hope said, “So, um. Coffee. I can make coffee. It’s never any good, though. Want me to try anyway?”

The man stood up. Slowly, she noticed. Like he was trying to do his best not to freak her out.

It was nice of him, she knew. But she was so freaked out already, it didn’t matter. “How about we all go in the kitchen? You can show me where the coffee is and I can take care of it. I’m an old hand at coffee.”

“Oh. Okay. Maybe I can find where Law keeps his doughnuts stashed.”

A grin slashed across his face.

And Lena chuckled.

“Cops and doughnuts,” she murmured. “Tell me, Detective … there any truth to those myths?”

He sighed and patted his flat belly with a lean hand. “Me and doughnuts have this love-hate relationship, just like lots of other cops and lots of other doughnuts. It’s a personal thing.”