Page 34 of Murder at Rescue Ridge

She ran to him and then wrapped her arms around him. He brought her into an embrace.

“Long story,” she said breathlessly.

A few seconds later, she pulled back and waved at the driver.

“Thank you for the ride, Paul.”

A stab of jealousy pierced Conrad’s chest. Who was Paul? Did he have a right to ask? Was it his business?

“Any time,” Paul said before returning the wave. “Be careful.”

“I will,” she said.

Paul turned his truck around and left.

“I can’t stay outside long without triggering my ankle device,” Conrad said to her, motioning toward the metal. “I may have already done it since I have no idea how far I can wander on the property.”

“Is that why you were released?” she asked, ushering him inside.

He confirmed it was as he studied her bruises. “You’re hurt. What did those bastards do to you?” His jaw ticked.

“The important thing is that I got away,” she said. “I need to call my stepfather to tell him to call off the dogs.”

Conrad ground his back teeth.

“We still need to find out who really killed my father.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Not until we deal with those wounds.”

“First, do you want out of that ankle monitor?” she asked.

“Why? Do you know how?”

“One of my law professors brought it up in class once, and I wanted to verify the information was true,” she said. “Where’s the silverware drawer?”

He motioned toward the drawer next to the sink. She moved there while he gathered up a few medical supplies.

She grabbed a butter knife and held it up. “This is all you need.”

“That looks like a tool used to dig a deeper hole,” he said, frowning. “Plus, where would I go? Not to mention you haven’t told me exactly what happened to you. I noticed your limp, not to mention the cuts and bruises.”

“Am I limping?” She’d done her best to ignore the pain. “I had to run without shoes on. It’s nothing serious.”

“What else happened to you?” he asked, shooting a look that said he doubted it wasn’t serious.

Conrad’s concernstruck a chord deep inside Nikki. She’d been in survival mode. Her biological father hadn’t cared if she lived or died. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. Harrison might’ve cared but he’d been too self-consumed to worry too much about her. Heath had stayed around. He’d looked out for her. He was still protective.

Being on the receiving end of compassion and kindness was new. Could she get used to it?

If they didn’t figure out who killed her father, she didn’t have to worry about it. Conrad would go to prison.

The air sucked out of the room at the thought. Nikki couldn’t let that happen. Could she stop it?

12

“Sit here,” Conrad said to Nikki. He didn’t want to admit to himself just how right it felt to have her sitting in this kitchen. The Sturgess main house had never remotely felt like home to Conrad. Until now.

Even dirty and tangled, Nikki’s raven-like hair shone in the light. Her almond-shaped eyes were framed by long, black lashes. While bruised and cut, her skin was soft as he cleaned up the marks. He wanted to hunt those bastards down and teach them a lesson. But he wouldn’t. He’d learned from the best that anger and violence never solved a problem. It had always been Beaumont’s go-to when someone made a mistake. They hadn’t been bad kids or given in to mischief. They’d made decent grades in school. They’d done their assigned chores without much complaining. Hell, they’d been kept so busy between school and the ranch they’d been too darn tired to conjure up much trouble. Kade had stepped up as the father figure and had taken a fair amount of heat from Beaumont, saving them when they’d been too young to defend themselves. No one had escaped the old man’s wrath.

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