Chapter 5
5
T he turn of events had Nikki’s head spinning. A part of her brain still denied Harrison Guidry was gone, and all her fantasies of healing their fractured relationship were now out of reach. Shaking off those heavy thoughts, she asked, “Where to next?”
Her stomach growled.
“How hungry are you?” Conrad asked.
“I always keep a power bar in my purse.” She reached in and pulled out the Kind bar. After opening it, she broke it in half and handed a piece over.
“Go ahead,” he said, shaking his head and refusing to take the offering. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” She didn’t like eating the whole bar when he had to be starving, too. Half might not be much for someone his size, but it was better than nothing.
“I’m good,” he said. “Had a big lunch.”
Nikki was almost certain that was a lie, but she didn’t call him out. Instead, she reached for his hand and placed half the bar on the flat of his palm. “Even so. I’ll feel a lot better if you have something in your stomach.”
He nodded before closing his hand. Heat wasn’t a problem as long as they made physical contact. The electrical current zapped her fingers the second they touched his calloused hand. Calloused from working outside, no doubt with the very ax he was accused of using to kill her father. It didn’t ring true. No one this kind would ruthlessly murder another human being. The only fight he’d been in on record was due to defending someone who hadn’t been able to stand up for herself. Were those the actions of a murderer or a hero? Nikki’s money would go on the latter.
After gulping down the snack, Nikki refocused on the next steps. They each had a little cash on hand. “How much money do you have?”
Conrad pulled out his wallet and started counting twenties while she reached for hers.
“I have two hundred and forty-seven dollars,” he said.
“You’re doing better than me.” She held out her small stash. “Fourteen dollars.”
“Every bit helps,” he said, “and it keeps us from needing to use a credit card, which we can’t risk.”
“On foot, we won’t get very far,” she reasoned. There had to be a better plan. “We can’t exactly circle back and take my car or any vehicle from the ranch.”
He shook his head. Her eyes had thankfully adjusted to the darkness, which made it easier to read his expression.
“What’s our next move because I’m drawing a blank?” she said.
“We find the sonofabitch who killed your father,” he muttered.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
He heaved a sigh. They were back to square one.
“The law is going to be looking for both of us,” she said. Was running a mistake? She’d acted on impulse in following Conrad, something she rarely did.
“That’s correct.”
“And we’re making it even easier being together,” she said.
He cocked a dark brow. “How’s that?”
“Folks will be looking for a woman and a man,” she said. Going back to Houston was too risky, even if they could figure out a way to get there without being caught.
“I have an idea, but it’s high-risk,” he said.
She shot a look. “Can it get worse?”
“Sometimes, a gamble pays off.” He reached for her hand. Hers was small by comparison and felt a little too good against his rough skin. For a split second, she imagined what it would feel like to have those hands roaming her body.
Shaking off the thought, she said, “Let’s roll the dice.”
Mr. and Mrs. Zilker had retired to their fishing cabin a few years back. Their car was parked out front. Unlocked? The temperature had dropped in the last hour of the walk to the lake. Conrad had taken off his flannel shirt in order to keep Nikki warm. She’d fought him all of two seconds before relenting and putting the heavier shirt on. At least her teeth had stopped chattering.
It was late. The lights were out at the cabin. The Zilkers were no doubt asleep. Rather than wake them, Conrad tried the car door. It opened.
“Front or back?” he whispered. The vehicle would keep them warm while they waited for first light so they could knock on the door without meeting the barrel of a shotgun.
“I’ll take the backseat,” she said in a low voice before climbing in.
He took the front passenger side. Leaning it back all the way, he closed his eyes and wished for sleep. Instead, the events of the day played over and over again in his thoughts. At this point, there was no way to contact his siblings to let them know he was okay. They would be sick with worry. What had he been thinking he would accomplish by running? Damn. He’d made a mess of the situation and dragged an innocent person along for the ride, a person who’d just lost her father. Was she thinking straight? Making the best decision by going along with him?
Those and a few other questions were on a hamster wheel. He lost track of time.
By the time the sun began to rise, he realized that he would have to go back to the ranch if he wanted answers. Whoever threw that ax had to have some blood splatter on their clothing. Unless the person was strong and accurate enough to nail a target from a great distance.
The sounds of steady, even breathing from the backseat meant Nikki was asleep. He wouldn’t disturb her. Plus, being still gave him time to think. Who wanted Harrison Guidry dead? Throwing an ax at someone felt personal. A bullet could be fired from far away with decent accuracy and get the job done. Another thought swirled around. Had someone wanted to set him up? His sister Chloe had been the target of a scheme to get a piece of the inheritance. The manager of her ex’s band had tried to kill her and make it look like an accident. With Chloe gone, her portion of the inheritance would automatically have gone to her three-year-old son, Grayson. Grayson’s father would’ve then been in control of the money, given the fact Grayson was a minor. However, the man had a drinking and drugging problem, so he’d signed over power of attorney on all money matters to his manager. Chloe’s death, it seemed, would have kept the band solvent and the manager in a job. The bastard had been willing to kill for Chloe’s money, leaving a child without a mother in the process.
The barrel of a shotgun tapped the window next to Conrad. Hands up, he sat up. Mr. Zilker’s expression morphed from serious to surprised in half a second.
“Come on out of there, son,” the older man said to Conrad, taking a step back and lowering the barrel.
Conrad opened the door and then hit the lever to make the seatcome up. It smacked him in the back. Nikki gasped and sat straight up.
“It’s okay,” he reassured. “I know this man personally.” He looked to Mr. Zilker for confirmation the older man had no intention of shooting.
Mr. Zilker nodded.
Nikki exited the vehicle and stood next to Conrad.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” Conrad began. “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Irene, put out a couple extra breakfast plates,” Mr. Zilker shouted back at the cabin. He turned his attention to Conrad. “For the record, I knew you couldn’t have done it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Call me Hank,” Mr. Zilker said. “And follow me.”
Hank turned toward the cabin. Turning his back to Conrad was a sign of trust. He appreciated the gesture.
They followed Hank inside. Irene was busy in the kitchen. She turned long enough to wave them inside with a wide smile on her face.
“You’re Harrison Guidry’s girl,” Hank said as he motioned for them to take a seat at the kitchen table.
“Yes, sir.”
“Hank,” he insisted.
“Could I use your restroom?” Nikki asked.
“Yes, of course,” Irene said. “I’ll show you. There are supplies in there that you’re welcome to use.”
Nikki smiled, and he could swear the temperature in the room warmed a couple of degrees.
“You’re in trouble,” Hank said as the coffee machine finished working its magic.
“Yes, I am.”
“I know you, Conrad,” Hank said. “You’re a fine person. You wouldn’t hurt another soul unless it was self-defense.”
“Thank you for your confidence in me.” Would the rest of Saddle Junction feel the same or assume Conrad was as bad as his father? “How’s Jake?”
“You know, living in Dallas now,” Hank said with a shrug. “Prefers the city to being out here in the sticks, as he calls it. Says there’s a whole lot more to do in Dallas than in Saddle Junction.”
Conrad knew Jake’s opinions of their hometown. He was making conversation. “Does he get back here often?”
“No,” Hank said. “We usually make the drive on the first Sunday of the month to see him and have lunch. I don’t much like the traffic, but it makes my wife happy.”
Conrad smiled. “You know what they say, ‘Happy wife, happy life.’”
Speaking of Irene, she returned to the kitchen, rubbed her hands together, and said, “Who wants breakfast?”
“Sounds like heaven to me,” Conrad said as he took the mug of fresh brew being handed to him.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Irene’s words were from the angels themselves.
“I could eat.”
Hank reclaimed his seat and clasped his hands around his coffee mug. “Tell me what’s going on…why they’re searching for you.”
Conrad gave a quick rundown. Quick, because he didn’t know a whole helluva lot. Hank nodded a time or two.
Then came, “I never much liked Harrison Guidry,” Hank said with a disgusted grimace.
“You never much liked Beaumont either,” Conrad pointed out. It was one of the reasons he trusted Hank.
“No, I did not. I’m sorry for your loss, though.”
“He wasn’t much of a father, so it’s easy to move on.”
Nikki joined them a moment later, and Conrad rose to excuse himself to freshen up in the bathroom.
“I laid out supplies for you, too,” Irene said, her smile widening. “In case you wanted to freshen up.”
“Much appreciated,” he said before heading to the restroom.
A toothbrush was the best thing he’d seen so far today. He washed up and brushed his teeth before rejoining the others in the kitchen. He hurried since Nikki didn’t know the Zilkers but was pleasantly surprised to find her telling stories of hard tests and her grueling law school schedule.
Hank asked, “Are you planning to finish school?”
“Haven’t decided,” Nikki said as the smells of sausage, eggs, and gravy filled the air.
“What do you mean?” Hank’s eyebrow shot up. “You’ve come this far. Don’t you want to see it through?”
“I don’t know,” Nikki said, shrugging. “I haven’t decided if I love law school or just wanted to have something to talk about with my father.”
“Did you not know him very well?” Irene asked as she set plates of food down in front of them.
“Afraid not,” Nikki admitted.
“His loss, if you ask me,” Hank said before picking up his fork and shoveling a bite of food into his mouth.
“Shame,” Irene agreed.
“Thank you,” Nikki said with the kind of warmth in her voice that could melt ice on a frigid day. She palmed her half-empty coffee mug and leaned forward. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn you of the dangers of having the two of us in your home. You could be charged with aiding and abetting fugitives.”
“No,” Conrad said, cutting in while she took a breath. He pulled out a Swiss Army knife, and opened the blade. He set the knife on the table. “She’s my hostage.”