If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

the owner.” Lena smirked. “Hell, you’re the one who had to go anddecide to start doing these boutique weddings. You all but have a welcome mat out … ‘Bridezillas accepted and welcomed.’ ” Shoving off the counter, she joined Roz at the island. “Gimme one of those before you eat them all.”
    Roz pushed a cookie into her hand and Lena bit down. Mouth full of macadamias, white chocolate, and cranberries, she made her way to the coffeepot. “Since you can’t have a White Russian, you want some coffee?”
    “No.” Roslyn sighed. “The last thing I need right now is coffee. I’m supposed to be meeting the bride and her mom in a half hour to discuss the floral arrangements.”
    In the middle of getting a clean mug from the cabinet, Lena frowned. “Discuss the floral arrangements … the wedding is tomorrow.”
    “Exactly. Which is why I need cookies.” She huffed out a breath. “Damn. I really do need that White Russian, you know. But I’ll have to settle for the cookies.”
    Lena smiled as her friend went for another one. That emergency stash wasn’t going to last the day, much less the weekend. She thought through her schedule and decided she might try to make up another batch. She could probably find the time. It sounded like Roz would probably need it. They were all going to need it, probably.
    “Does she want to change the floral arrangements or what?”
    Roz groaned. There was a weird thunk, followed by her friend’s muffled voice. “I don’t know. She just wanted to discuss the flowers. She had some concerns.” There were two more thunks.
    “Well, banging your head on the counter isn’t going to do much good … unless you hit it hard enough to knock yourself out. Otherwise, all it’s going to do is give you a headache.”
    “I’ve already got a headache,” Roz muttered.
    “Look, if she does have the idea of changing the arrangementsaround, explain to her that the florist here closes at noon on Fridays. Somebody will have already made sure the orders are covered, but changing the orders would just be too difficult, and it could be too chancy to try someplace outside of town. If you lay it on thick enough, she’s not going to want to risk it.”
    “Hmmm. Good point.” The stool scraped against the tile floor as Roz stood up. “I knew there was a reason I hired you.”
    “You hired me for my cookies,” Lena said, her voice dry.
    “Another reason, then.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, no more cookies. I’m going to check on a few things before I go talk to my … client.”
    “Good luck. But do me a favor … if she decides she needs a last-minute menu change? Stonewall her. I don’t care how, and I don’t care what you say. Stonewall her.”
    “This woman can’t be stonewalled.” Roz sighed. “I think she might just
be
Stonewall. His reincarnation or something. You can’t stonewall a Stonewall, right?”
    “Figure a way out.” There was no way she was doing a last-minute menu change.

IF YOU SEE HER
     

CHAPTER
ONE
     
    “S HE ’ S A DISTURBED WOMAN , I’ M AFRAID TO SAY. ”
    Remington Jennings pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to think about the sad green eyes and silken brown hair of one Hope Carson. “Disturbed, how? Can you help me out any here, Detective Carson?”
    On the other end of the line, the man sighed. “Well, I’m reluctant to do that. You see, I wouldn’t have a DA on the phone, asking about my wife, if there wasn’t trouble. And I don’t want to cause her trouble.”
    “She’s your ex-wife and she’s already got trouble. Do you want her to get the help she needs or not?” Remy asked, his voice taking on a sharp edge. Hell, anybody with half a brain could see that woman wouldn’t hurt a fly unless she was just pushed …
    “You want to help her, is that it, Jennings?” The detective laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was sad and bitter.
    “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have called. I’m not trying to lock her up and throw away the key here. Help me out, Detective.”
Damn it, Carson, gimme a break
.
    “Help you out. You mean help you help Hope.” Once more, Joseph Carson sighed. He was Hope’s ex and acop from out west. He was also proving to be one hell of a pain in the ass.
    Faintly, Remy heard a heavy creak. “Mr. Jennings, pardon my French, but you can’t help Hope, because she doesn’t fucking
want
help. She’s a very troubled young woman. She … shit, this is hard, but we