Page 55 of Murder at Rescue Ridge

If they were lucky, they might bump into Beau in the process.

“Do you mind putting your mom’s address in my phone?” he asked after sending the request to the twins. They confirmed that they would visit her mom almost immediately.

She did, then handed it back.

“Let’s see what we can find.”

Were they risking too much by leaving the ranch? There was only one way to find out.

Nikki exitedthe passenger side of the pickup marked with the Sturgess logo before Conrad opened his door. They’d made it to the Wayne home safe, much to her surprise. Then again, the area near the ranch was probably perceived as being too hot for the bastards who’d abducted her to hang around. They had to realize she would have given their descriptions to the law.

Or was her location still a secret? The call to Heath might have jeopardized her whereabouts. Would he take her advice and call off the reward? It was a tossup, given his temper. Heath was angry that she’d escaped. He was angry that she hadn’t come home. Was he angry that she hadn’t committed to taking his last name, too?

Did it upset him that she’d needed to speak to Harrison before making a decision?

No situation was black and white. Her stepfather had appeared to understand why she couldn’t decide without at least giving her father a heads-up. Had she wanted to give Harrison Guidry one last chance to fight for her?

Truth? Yes.

After a mental headshake to refocus, she took in her surroundings. The two-story brick home in a cul-de-sac subdivision sat on an acre lot. The landscaping out front wasn’t the garden-variety Japanese boxwood favored by most builders in the area. Mrs. Wayne had spent serious money creating and maintaining a variety of sculpted shrubs and seasonal flowers. This time of year, not much survived the cold snaps. The contractors in charge of this landscaping had managed enough color to bring a cheerful quality to the home. Otherwise, the brick was painted off-white, and wood shutters framed all the windows. The termmodern farmhouseapplied here, right down to the black lantern light wall sconces framing the front door.

Conrad caught up and reached for her hand, linking their fingers. The contact was a lifeline, tethering her to reality and keeping her grounded as they approached the home of the person who might have killed her father.

Was Mrs. Wayne the wife of a murderer? Or a widow and didn’t know it?

Conrad knocked on the door. Yippy-dog barks erupted.

A few minutes passed before Mrs. Wayne answered, two little dogs at her feet barking like their lives depended on it.

“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wayne asked as her gaze zeroed in on Conrad.

“I have a few questions about your husband,” Conrad said. “May we come inside?”

“Hold on,” the middle-aged woman said as she picked up her dogs, leaving the door cracked. She took a step back. “Okay. Come in.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Conrad opened the door the rest of the way, walking in first in a protective move. Nikki noted that he always put himself in between her and perceived danger.

The two-story foyer had white marble flooring and a grand spiral staircase off to one side. Her home was decorated to a T, and looked to be a new build. An expensive one at that.

Mrs. Wayne wasn’t more than five feet three inches. The first thing Nikki noticed was her unnatural-sized breasts. The woman was attractive in a made-up way—long, black eyelashes that complimented straight shoulder-length blond hair.

She stood her ground in the entryway. “I’ve already told the deputy everything I know about Lukas’s whereabouts.”

“When was he due home, if you don’t mind my asking?” Conrad said.

“Early this morning,” she said. “But that doesn’t always mean anything is wrong. Sometimes, he just finds a good spot and doesn’t want to leave before he has to.”

There was something off. A look? A flash of some emotion behind the woman’s eyes that Nikki couldn’t quite pinpoint.

And then it dawned on Nikki. She glanced at Conradandgave a look that meant to give her some leeway.

Nikki took a step toward Mrs. Wayne. Now, Conrad was behind her. She lowered her voice and said, “I had a boyfriend who used to go ‘fishing’ sometimes on the weekends. The funny thing about it is that he never actually brought any fish home. You know what I mean?”

Based on the sympathetic look, Mrs. Wayne knew exactly what Nikki was talking about. The “fishing” boyfriend was made up. Nikki had a knack for finding the right story to tell in order to get someone to open up.

Would it work this time?

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