Murder at Rescue Ridge (Rescue Ridge #3)

Chapter 1

1

A siren pierced the air. Nikki Guidry checked the rearview. An SUV with flashing lights came roaring toward her from behind. Her gaze immediately shifted to the dashboard to check her speed. Going fifty-seven in a fifty-five didn’t qualify as speeding in her book.

After slowing down, she pulled onto the shoulder and studied the SUV gunning toward her. No way was the deputy pulling her over while going this rate of speed. What were the odds the vehicle was heading to the Sturgess ranch?

Her stomach dropped.

Her small sport utility leaned and groaned as the larger SUV whooshed past. She navigated back onto the farm road as the SUV disappeared around curves and sped up. Not thirty seconds later, another siren whirred from behind. Past the S-curve, she had trouble seeing anything. Rather than pull over and risk being hit, she smashed the gas pedal. Once she was on a long stretch of road, she moved over again.

An ambulance came into view before barreling past her.

Rather than follow, she grabbed her cell phone and made a call to her father. As the Sturgess family’s lawyer, Harrison Guidry would know what was going on and if she needed to be concerned. Nikki impatiently tapped her finger on the steering wheelas she willed him to answer. The two of them weren’t close. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen his face in person. The answer came to her: eighteen, college move-in day. He’d met her in Austin and taken her out to lunch. His advice? Try not to get pregnant. “Having a baby before age thirty-five will ruin your future in law. No one will take a mother seriously.” Her mother had been right about Harrison turning out to be a disappointment.

Even though he’d been an absentee father, she had never been able to cut him out of her life or give up the hope he might change one day. The few times she’d visited him for a long weekend as a young teenager, he’d driven to this ranch and then told her to go have fun while he’d spent the day in Beaumont Sturgess’s office. After giving her father a piece of her mind and walking out on that lunch when she was eighteen, she’d been able to count on one thing from the man. Harrison always took her calls or got back to her as soon as he was able.

There had been no holiday visits, no presents in the mail. Harrison Guidry had been an occasional voice on the phone to her, but only after she’d reached the age that her mother decided Nikki could handle disappointment. Eileen Alastor, formerly Eileen Guidry, had experienced more than her fair share while she’d been married to the man. More letdowns than any one person should have to endure.

Looking back, Nikki’s insistence on visiting the man that handful of times had been her form of teen rebellion against an overprotective mother.

Harrison Guidry didn’t pick up.

Nikki ended the call and set the phone in the cupholder in case her father called back right away. If there was an emergency at the Sturgess ranch, he might be in the thick of the action.

Tamping down panic, she guided her vehicle back onto the farm road and toward her destination. Accidents probably happened on or around ranches all the time. Plus, she didn’t have confirmation there was anything to be concerned about.

A vivid memory stirred of her trying to kiss one of the Sturgess boys. He had been three years older than her. In her teenage brain, she’d thought the best way to get her father’s attention was for him to catch her smooching in the barn. Conrad Sturgess had flatly rejected her overly eager attempt at seduction.

The memory caused her cheeks to heat and the corners of her lips to upturn into a small smile. She probably shouldn’t be amused and embarrassed in equal measure, but Conrad Sturgess had been a complete and total hottie in her book, based on the diary she’d boxed up over Christmas break. With any luck, Conrad would be long gone from the ranch by now. A small voice in the back of her mind picked that moment to point out the fact most ranch operations were handed down from generation to generation. She was aware of Beaumont’s death a few months ago, early December if memory served.

Under normal circumstances, it would be sad to lose a family member during the holiday season. Nikki had a feeling there had been no love lost based on her limited experience with the family.

Again, maybe things had changed. That happened, right?

Based on the recent argument she’d had with her own father, which was the reason for the personal visit, she doubted it. On this visit, she would decide whether or not to allow an adult adoption to go through with her stepfather. Heath Alastor, the man who’d raised her, had asked if she wanted to make it official and take his name.

Nikki had a decision to make. Her biological father might pick up her calls now, but he never initiated a conversation. When he did pick up or return a call, he always sounded bothered and in a hurry. He often listened for a few minutes before making an excuse to end the call.

She sighed. Did families have to be so complicated?

Another question emerged. Should she continue to waste time on a father who did little to nothing to engage in a relationship?

Sirens that had been growing louder suddenly stopped.

Pulling onto Sturgess property meant coming face-to-face with the massive tumbled-stone house and her father.

The commotion was at the barn behind the home. Should she park and head there instead of going straight to the main house? A flurry of activity in the barn made the decision for her.

After parking and checking her phone, she walked toward the barn. The back door of the main house opened almost immediately, and a tall female deputy with dark hair tied back in a ponytail came walking toward her.

“Excuse me,” the deputy said, “are you Nikki Guidry?”

Nikki stopped. “Yes.”

“You’re going to want to come into the house with me instead,” Deputy Combs said after identifying herself.

“I’m here to see Harrison Guidry,” Nikki said, still trying to mentally process the scene.

“I know,” Deputy Combs said, offering a sympathetic look. The look caused more panic to knot in Nikki’s chest to the point that taking in air hurt.

The thought that something terrible could have happened to her father shouldn’t tighten the knot, considering how little interaction they’d had over the years. After all, this visit was to mend fences after a blowup and help her decide if she wanted to disassociate from the man. A second-year law professor had hinted that having the last name Guidry would close quite a few doors for her. Her father, she’d learned, had long been Beaumont Sturgess’s clean-up man.

The professor had asked if she really wanted to be associated with Harrison Guidry’s reputation. Before that, Nikki hadn’t given the issue much consideration. Now that her mother had not so subtly made it known she would like nothing more than for Nikki to take Heath’s name, the reasons to separate herself from the father, who she’d overheard saying had never wanted her in the first place were multiplying.

It was beyond her why she felt the need to keep a tether to him—except that he was her father. It was as simple and as complicated as that statement.

Taking in a breath, Nikki said, “Okay. Let’s go inside.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But first, tell me if something bad happened to my father.”

Deputy Combs’ gaze fixed on a spot behind and to the right of Nikki’s shoulder before quickly readjusting back to lock onto Nikki.

“Do yourself a favor, and don’t turn around.”

Too late. Nikki had already craned her neck around.

Then she saw it. The stretcher. The white sheet covering a body, a face.

And she knew.

“I hope you understand that I have to withdraw from this investigation, which could mean an arrest is imminent,” Sheriff Travis Barrett said.

Conrad Sturgess took another lap around the inside of the barn office. He raked hisfingers through his hair. “An arrest?” Conrad could scarcely believe any of this was happening. He understood why Travis would have to excuse himself, considering the acting sheriff was engaged toConrad’s sister Chloe.

“It’s possible,” Travis said.

Harrison Guidry had been found lying on his back with an ax in his skull.

“You were last seen chopping wood,” Travis said for the second time.

“I know,” Conrad said. “Doesn’t mean I was the last one who touched the damn thing.”

“Exactly,” Travis agreed. “The evidence should clear you and possibly point law enforcement to the real perp. Time will tell.”

“How am I supposed to figure this out if I’m locked up behind metal bars?” Conrad asked, issuing a frustrated grunt.

“As your future brother-in-law, I beg you not to take matters into your own hands. You could end up making the situation worse.”

Conrad smacked his flat palm on the desk. “How?”

“I hear you,” Travis said in a calm voice. He cared about the folks of Jackson County. He cared about doing the sheriff's job justice. More importantly, he cared about Chloe and her son, Grayson. The man wouldn’t lead Conrad down the wrong path intentionally. However, that was the thing about intentions. They might be good and off at the same time.

Travis perched on the corner of the massive oak desk that had once belonged to Beaumont Sturgess. The acting sheriff and future brother-in-law studied Conrad. “People will repeat the saying, ‘It’s always the quiet ones.’”

“I figured.” It didn’t mean Conrad was guilty. Folks would make up their own minds. He realized that.

“They might say you had reason to get rid of the attorney since he was in the way of you being able to do what you want with the ranch,” Travis continued.

“They’d be wrong,” Conrad stated. “I’ve been the only one willing to listen to Beau’s side of the argument, and he doesn’t want to sell.” Beaumont Sturgess the Second had shown up at the will reading back in early December having been summoned by Harrison. Beau had stuck around the ranch ever since. Beau, as he liked to be called, currently lived in the main house in a guest room.

At least they’d all agreed on one thing: changing the name to Rescue Ridge from Sturgess Ranch. No one, except maybe Beau, wanted to be associated with Beaumont Sturgess. The elder Sturgess had been called a bully for the way he’d conducted his horse racing business, and he’d been a terrible father to the six children who’d grown up here. Beau, child number seven, wanted to stick around and run the ranch together while most everyone else wanted to sell. The illegitimate heir wanted to know more about his elusive father while getting to know his siblings. Physically, the guy was a carbon copy of Beaumont Sturgess, and a DNA test had confirmed it. Conrad was the only sibling who’d been willing to get to know their half-brother since the others couldn’t bring themselves to trust Beau’s intentions.

“Folks will rip you apart, Conrad.” Travis heaved a sigh. “You’ll be tried by folks in this county before you ever step into a courtroom. They’ll believe you’re capable of murder once details of your childhood are released. Once the whispers are confirmed that Beaumont tortured all six of you, it’ll be easy for folks to believe you snapped.”

“What does this have to do with me being locked up?”

“Folks will want you behind bars,” Travis explained.

“Why?”

“They’ll be afraid that you have a taste for killing,” Travis said. “There are other reasons, but it won’t do any good to speculate.”

“I’ll make bail,” he said.

“I’d rather figure out a plan so you aren’t arrested in the first place.”

Now, Travis was beginning to make sense. Not going to jail for a crime Conrad didn’t commit sounded like the way to go. “I’m all ears.”

“Let’s focus on finding reasons to keep you out of jail.”

“Like?” Conrad asked since the fact he hadn’t committed murder didn’t seem to be a good enough reason.

“You’re not a flight risk.”

“Nope,” Conrad said. “I don’t have plans to go anywhere.”

“You don’t have a history of violence,” Travis continued.

Conrad cleared his throat. “That might be a problem.”

Travis’s brow shot up. “Why? Do you have a history of getting into fights?”

“I was arrested in Colorado for a bar fight six months ago. Is that going to be a problem?”

Those words caused worry lines to appear on Travis’s forehead. “Depends on the reason.”

“A man ended up in the hospital,” Conrad added. “He turned out to be the son of the town’s mayor.”

Travis mumbled a few choice words. “That’s not good, Conrad.”

He was afraid of that.

“Tell me what happened in as much detail as you remember.”

“Does it matter?” Conrad asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay then.” Conrad had done his best to forget the whole incident. “The guy followed a woman to her car. The parking lot was dark. She’d had one too many. This guy decided to take advantage of the state she was in. I caught him trying to drag her behind a dumpster.”

“What were you doing outside?”

Conrad’s eyebrows shot upward. “That’s your question?” Seriously?

“The answer will matter in a courtroom,” Travis said.

“I followed the woman outside because I didn’t think it was a good idea for her to drive,” he explained. “And I was the one who bought her a drink because I didn’t realize she’d had too much until after she walked over to thank me. When I tried to convince her not to drink it, she got mad and told me to go to hell. Next thing I knew, she downed the damn thing in front of me and then said she was going home because the bar suddenly got boring.”

“Was anyone around to corroborate your story?”

“The bartender overheard the conversation but refused to give a statement later when he realized who I’d punched,” Conrad said. “I didn’t coldcock the guy. He swung first, but Brittany, that was her name, didn’t want to go against the mayor’s son in court. Not when she’d been too drunk to drive and tried to get behind the wheel anyway. Plus, she was embarrassed once she sobered up.”

“Would she offer a statement on your behalf now?” Travis asked.

“I have no idea.” Conrad didn’t have her number to ask. “She said the other guy was helping her to the trash can because she was about to throw up. That was her official statement.”

“Damn.”

“She was afraid of him,” Conrad said. “Do you blame her? After growing up around here? No one went to bat for us against Beaumont when we were kids. Teachers had to have known what happened behind closed doors, considering the welts on the backs of our legs and the other marks on our bodies and faces. I showed up to class more than once in my middle school years with a black eye.” Anger boiled up inside him. “No one ever asked where the shiners came from.”

“Folks don’t ask questions they don’t really want answers to.”

No. They didn’t. But that wouldn’t stop Conrad from sticking up for others even when they didn’t appreciate it.

The office door burst open. A tall brunette stood in the frame. She pointed at the center of Conrad’s chest. “You are going to spend the rest of your life in jail.”