Page 29 of Murder at Rescue Ridge

Nothing.

As she approached the steps, Curly’s meaty hand caught in her hair. He yanked her backward. She lost her balance, and both came down hard on the ground. Nikki scrambled to her feet but lost her handbag in the process.

“Fire!” she shouted one more time, even though hope was a blinking lightbulb about to burn out, plunging her into internal darkness.

She got to her feet a second before Curly. Moe was already charging toward them, huffing and puffing. He was a locomotive about to steamroll right through her.

Nikki dodged his grip by a half-second. She bolted toward the back of the house. A barn sat half a football field away. Could she get their first? Lock herself inside until the owners came home?

She had to try.

Sidestepping Moe’s grasp a second time, she pivoted left and banked toward the barn. Rocks and weeds stabbed her feet, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. Head down, she made a run for it.

Halfway across the yard, she heard the sweet sound of Garth Brook’s voice pumping out from the barn. Someone had to be inside, listening.

Again, she shoutedfire.

The music must’ve been too loud inside to hear her. Two-thirds of the way across the yard, a strong hand gripped her shoulder, whirling her around and causing her to stumble. She twisted all the way around, broke the grasp, and smacked the hand away in the process.

“Bitch!” Moe growled. Then, he got a good hold on her. He slammed her to the ground so hard all the air in her lungs came out with a sharp pain.

Nikki couldn’t rally her body to move, no matter how much her brain told her to get the hell up.

The next thing she knew, she was being dragged by her right ankle. Her left side might be weaker, but she managed to kick at the vise-like hand.

Moe muttered a curse as Curly caught up to them. “Grab the bitch’s other foot, will you?”

Curly tried, but she bucked and kicked, landing a heel where no man wanted to be hit. Curly doubled over; the wind knocked out of him. When he caught his breath, he came at her in a fury.

Nikki rolled around, breaking Moe’s handle on her. She kept rolling, bowling Curly over as he tripped over her body. The aches and bruises were racking up, but freedom would be worth it.

Pushing up from the ground, she forced herself to make a second run at the barn. She was so close to getting help thatshe could almost taste her freedom.

The music grew louder as the song came to a crescendo. The sound of footsteps behind her said both men were back in the chase and gaining ground. The barn was close. Shouting would do no good over the music, so she decided to save her energy and use every ounce of strength to pump her arms even harder. Faster.

Moe pushed ahead of her. What was he doing? Why didn’t he grab her by the hair or the back of her shirt? Why was he outrunning her?

She darted to the left in case he decided to turn around and block her. It was obvious she ran toward the barn. It was obvious someone was inside. It was also uncertain. A scrawny teenager could be in there. A brittle-boned grandfather could be inside those walls. All her hopes of escape resided in the idea of a strapping figureinside who could handle both men. Three, if the driver had decided to join the others in pursuing Nikki on foot. And if the person playing the music couldn’t handle these guys physically, she prayed they would have a shotgun nearby.

Steps away from the barn, Moe turned around and spread his arms out so he could block entry.

Nikki had to dig deep to keep running. Could she make it around the other side of the barn before Curly grabbed her? His heavy breathing sounded like a freight train coming up behind her.

An outstretched hand swiped at the back of her blouse. He grabbed a fistful. Could she break free before he dragged her backward again?

The song ended as she jerked out of Curly’s grip.

“Fire!”

Conrad stoodin front of the junk drawer in the kitchen, rummaging around for a pen and paper. He located aTo-Dopad for shopping lists hidden underneath the jumble. After two tries, he found a pen that still worked. Then, he scribbled a message to Nikki that read:Please let me know you’re okay.-C

Slipping outside, he checked her vehicle’s door and discovered it was unlocked. He folded the note once and slipped it into the cupholder instead of on the driver’s seat as he’d originally intended. The odds of Nikki being the one to pick up her vehicle could be slim. Placing the note in a conspicuous spot could cause it to be intercepted. The cupholder gave the note a chance of making it into her hands. The seat was too risky.

He needed to know that she’d made it home safe and sound. The manner in which she contacted him would be up to her. She could send a pigeon for all he cared, but he hoped she would deliver the news in person. Then again, his face might be the last one she wanted to see again. She might have come to her senses and was happy to put as many miles between them as possible.

Heath’s warning came to mind. The term overprotective didn’t begin to cover Nikki’s stepfather. By her account, Heath was good to Nikki. Leaving the property wasn’t an option, so it wasn’t like Conrad could show up at her home to verify she wasn’t being mistreated or held against her will.

He scanned the driveway. At least he was home now. He might not be able to leave the ranch, but he could keep himself occupied until the killer was found. He could do a little digging, possibly convince one of his brothers to follow up on any leads.

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