If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

Hollister.
    Nia Hollister—Jolene Hollister’s cousin. Jolene’s cousin—explained perfectly why she’d been in town
last
year, but didn’t explain why she was here
now
.
    He might not have worried if all he’d heard about her was that she’d been seen in the Circle K picking up some cigarettes—Marlboros, not the cheap stuff for her. But no, she hadn’t gotten her cigarettes and headed out of town.
    After she’d bought her cigarettes, she’d checked into the Ash Hotel.
That
had him worried. Very worried, and it didn’t make him feel better once he started digging around and finding out more about her. Oh, he had learned some interesting things about her, too.
    When he plugged her name into a search engine, he wasn’t bombarded with
Did You Go To School With
. No, she actually had information online. A photojournalist. A bit more research revealed where she lived, as well as a variety of links to her work.
    So many things could be learned on the Internet these days. Still, the one thing he needed to know, that eluded him.
    What he didn’t know was why she was here. Why she was back in Ash.
    He’d made another trip back to town, under the guise of being lazy on a day off. Had a late lunch at the café, hit the bookstore, a few other places, chatting people up.
    Yes, she’d been noticed by quite a few people. But nobody knew why she was here. Back in
his
town.
    Nobody was talking. Not the boys from the sheriff’s department, not the local gossips, nobody.
    There was speculation. But nobody
knew
, which meant whatever her business was, she was keeping it close to her chest. He’d learned a long time ago how to separate the facts from the fancy and all there was now—it was just fancy.
    Nobody
knew
.
    Coming to a stop in front of the hotel, he let his van idle as he peered down the side.
    He could see her bike, but not her. She was already checked in, tucked into her room. She’d have the door locked, probably. Both the chain and the deadbolt in place, her being a city girl.
    Not that it could keep him out, but he couldn’t exactly go and do something that blatant, now could he?
    Still, he needed to know why she was here.
    The small hotel wasn’t much but Nia didn’t need much. It was clean and it was quiet. That was all that mattered.
    It faced away from the street, and the woods that rose at the back provided some extra shade against the bright summer sun. When she pulled the curtains, it darkened the room so that she could barely see her way to the bed. She didn’t need to see—stripping her clothes away, she left them in a trail on her way to the bed and paused only long enough to pull the blankets back.
    She needed sleep, desperately. Sleep, then she’d figure out where to go from here.
    What to do next …
    Sleep …
    Nightmares chased her. Taunted her. Haunted her.
    In the dream, she was no longer herself, but Joely. Running—breathless and terrified—through the trees, no idea where she was going, just certain she had to get away.
    And he followed along behind.
    Nameless.
    Faceless.
    A malicious, dark presence that watched, waited …
    She could feel his eyes, all but crawling along her. All but touching her.
    Waiting … waiting …
    She wanted to scream, but didn’t dare. Keeping it trapped in her throat, she bit her lip almost bloody to keep it locked inside. If she screamed, it made it that much easier for him to find her.
    Not that he wouldn’t find her anyway.
    It was just a matter of time—didn’t matter where she went, where she ran, she couldn’t escape … this was his town …
    She came awake to complete dark.
    As a sob tried to tear its way free, Nia fought loose from the blankets that had wrapped around her like chains. Standing by the bed, nude and shaking, she wrapped her arms around herself.
    Calm down … you have to calm down …
    The dream replayed itself through her head over and over. She saw herself—but it wasn’t her. It was Joely. Running, trying to get away.
    No shocker, there.
    Joely hadn’t been always ready to pick a fight the wayNia would, but she wouldn’t back down from one, either—she would have fought. And fought hard.
    It was disconcerting, though, the way she found herself remembering …
    This was his town …
    Blowing out a breath, she bent over and snagged her shirt from the floor, pulled it over her head. She didn’t give a damn what the official reports said and she didn’t give a damn what so-called evidence had been