Page 2 of Captive at Rescue Ridge

Curiosity had him heading toward the door to see where she’d gone. The electrical current still ran through him, causing his nerve endings to hum.

Was he making a mountain out of a molehill with the woman? She could be anyone, including one of Harrison Guidry’s many conquests. A few showed up today at the Sky’s The Limit Remembrance Hall to pay their respects. The disappointment on their faces when the announcement had been made there would be no will reading had made it obvious why they’d made the effort to come. They’d believed they were special to Harrison, that they’d meant something to him. The expressions on their faces when they’d looked around and seen they hadn’t been the only special one had been priceless. Witnessing their expressions after the second announcement had been priceless. Apparently, Harrison’s wishes were clear, and his will was ironclad. Nikki, his sole living heir, would inherit every last dime of his money, every single one of his possessions, and his home. Period.

Reactions had ranged from grunts of disgust to disbelief and fainting. Yep. Fainting. Splat. Flat on their backs. One had come to, asking if there was a lawyer in the room. It had taken a lot of gall to consider suing your dead lover because you’d fainted when you learned he hadn’t left you a dime of his money. The termgold-diggercame to mind.

But one woman haunted his thoughts right now—the lady in the black hat.

A moment later, he tucked his cell inside his pocket, braced his palms against the metal bar, and shoved. A chilly wind shot straight through him, causing his shoulders to hunch forward to brace against it. Chin to chest, he scanned the parking lot as he stepped outside. The door cu-clunked behind him. Locked?

Rolling gray clouds filled the sky, threatening rain.

There was no movement in the parking lot and no sign of Black Hat.

He waited, figuring he’d given her enough time to find her vehicle. She should be pulling out of the full lot by now and down the twisty drive toward the farm road. However, there was no telltale dust to be seen.

Archer shook his head. Had she even left the building? Or had she had second thoughts, turned around, and stayed? Was she still inside the hall? Had she slipped into the bathroom to freshen up or take care of business before heading out? This place was in the sticks, a good half an hour from anywhere.

Archer turned around, grabbed the metal handle to go back inside, and twisted.Locked.

Biting back a curse, he circled to the front of the building and re-entered. Folks had sectioned off in groups of three or four, sprinkled around the vestibule while talking in hushed tones. The crowd now spilled into the remembrance room. He could breathe without elbowing someone. A surprising amount of people had showed up today. Then again, in this town, curiosity could draw numbers. The grapevine was lively with chatter about other folks’ business, especially any gossip involving the wealthiest family in town—his. People would be curious about the daughter Harrison had never spoken of or paraded around town on holidays and summer breaks like some divorced men in town did.

Folks would’ve wanted to know if she’d show up at all. If she did, they’d want to know what she looked like. Had she taken after her father or mother? Would she show up with red-rimmed eyes from crying or wear a bitter scowl for the father who’d neglected her once she moved out of town? Archer assumed there’d be a high level of curiosity about Nikki’s every move, especially after she’d been suspected of aiding the man initially accused of her father’s murder. As it had turned out, her stepfather had been behind the murder—more reason to gossip about her and her situation.

Families were complicated. The thought struck the moment he almost walked straight into his half-brother.

“Everything alright?” Beau asked as he studied a surprised Archer.

“Fine. You?” Archer answered a little too quickly. His attempt to deflect the question had fallen flat based on his half-brother’s curious expression.

Beau’s eyebrow shot up. “Good.”

This would be a good moment for thethank youthat Archer owed the man standing less than a foot in front of him. This would be the right time to express his gratitude. However, he was still hesitant to welcome Beau into the fold, and his thoughts had already shifted back to the text and Black Hat.

“Excuse me,” Archer said when the other words died on his tongue.

After a nod of acknowledgment, Beau stepped out of the doorframe to allow passage.

Scanning the faces in the vestibule, Archer’s gaze landed on Travis. Both brother-in-law and acting sheriff, Travis might be a good person to talk to right now as he stalled for time to locate Black Hat. Not only would Travis keep a lid on the text so as not to create undue panic, but the sheriff might be able to give some insight into whether this was a common scam.

It only took another second for Archer to decide whether sharing the text with Travis would be a good move, even if it turned out to be nothing. He fished his phone from his pants pocket and checked the screen. The moment of hope Owen might have already responded fizzled.

Archer made a beeline for Travis, who was being cornered by one of the lady mourners who’d fainted earlier.

“Surely there’s some kind of complaint I can file,” she whined. Ms. Henley was a forty-something widow. She wore all black clothing and bright red lipstick.

“I understand your situation, ma’am,” Travis said with the utmost respect. “However, the person you are trying to file a complaint against is not alive.”

“May I borrow the sheriff for a minute?” Archer interrupted.

“Well, I guess,” she said, “since the sheriff isn’t being all that helpful anyway.” Ms. Henley walked away.

“What’s going on?” Travis asked as he seemed to study Archer.

Cell in hand, he pulled up the text before tilting the screen toward Travis. “I don’t know if this is a prank, but Owen isn’t responding to my texts, so I figured I’d show this to you and get your reaction. Should I be concerned?”

Travis read the message. His expression morphed. Worry lines instantly etched his forehead. “I would take it seriously until Owen shows up and proves otherwise.”

“Can you trace the text?”

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