Fatal Inheritance. Sandra OrchardЧитать онлайн книгу.
wrong?” He directed his flashlight beam toward her face.
Shielding her eyes, she leaned back against the tractor tire with a moan and soothed her swollen lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “Someone hit me.”
“Hit you?” Apparently that car he’d seen hightail it out of the farmer’s lane a minute ago hadn’t been just a couple of teens looking for a place to park as he’d supposed. He scanned her head for signs of trauma. “Are you okay?”
She pushed his light away. “I will be when you get that out of my eyes.”
Josh redirected his flashlight to the floor.
A four-foot length of timber lay on the ground a few feet away.
“Did you see who hit you?”
“I just saw a shadowy figure.”
“Tall? Short? Fat? Skinny?”
“I don’t know.” Bec clutched her head again. “Your average-size shadow.”
He needed to get her inside and check her over properly. Irritability could be a sign of a concussion. He quickly swept his flashlight in widening circles. “Why’d you come in here in the dark?”
“I heard cats meowing and hoped to find kittens.”
Of course. Same old Becki.
She stepped past him and stroked the hood of her grandfather’s old Cadillac. “Then I saw Gramps’s car.”
At the emotion in her voice, Josh’s breath hitched. Her grandfather had had a way of making troubles seem not so bad. The hours he and Josh had spent together tinkering on the “old gal” had been a lifeline after his mother had up and left Serenity without so much as a backward glance. But he couldn’t help Josh through this loss.
Josh forced his mind back to the present, to his police training. “Did you hear or see anything that could help us identify who hit you?”
She started to shake her head, then winced.
Josh resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders and instead directed his flashlight at the items a thief might have been after. Nothing appeared to be missing, but he couldn’t be sure until daylight.
Misty twined herself around his legs, purring. He lifted her into his arms and scratched her chin. “I guess you’re looking for your supper, huh?” He turned to Bec, remembering how much she’d adored the cats as a kid. “I’ve been feeding them since your grandparents...” He lowered Misty to the ground and let the explanation trail off rather than dredge up her loss. He pointed his flashlight at a box beneath the car. “The kittens are under there.”
Her delighted squeal tugged a grin to his lips—his first since finding her grandparents’ lifeless bodies.
He tugged the box out from under the car.
Bec sat cross-legged on the floor and gathered the kittens into her arms.
Josh chuckled. She hadn’t changed a bit. For all her tomboy ways, she was still a soft touch. He gave Misty fresh food and water and then looked around as best he could without leaving Bec in total darkness. If only the barn had overhead lighting, he might find some clue as to who she’d surprised. Most likely kids out for a lark. He hadn’t recognized the car he’d spotted as belonging to any of their usual troublemakers. He wished he’d gotten the license plate number.
Josh let his gaze settle back on Bec. Seeing her delight in the wiggling kittens, he could almost feel the years strip away to when they were both kids and life was carefree.
She winced, her forehead creasing.
“Hey, we’d better get you inside. Take a look at that bump. You might need to see a doctor.”
A frown curved her lips, but she returned the kittens to the box and pushed it back under the car, which told him more than words would how lousy she felt. When she was a kid, not even promises of chocolate cake and ice cream had been incentive enough to drag her away from the squirming fur balls.
He didn’t miss the way she braced her hand on the car fender to pull herself up, either. He moved to her side and, lighting the floor ahead of them, guided her with a light touch to the small of her back. “Do you feel nauseous?”
“A little. But I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
Outside the barn, he steered her toward his place. “Did you lose consciousness after you were hit?”
“I’m not sure. I think, maybe. Everything went black for a second or two.”
“You probably have a concussion. I can do a few tests to see if you should go to the hospital.”
She walked a little taller. “I’m fine really. I just need a couple of painkillers. All the doctor’s going to do is tell me to go home and take it easy.”
“Humor me.”
She squinted up at him, then at the tree line that separated their properties and abruptly stopped. “Hey, where are you taking me?”
“To my house. You said you hadn’t eaten, right?”
“You don’t have to feed me.”
“You’re in no condition to cook. Besides, it’ll be nice to have someone to eat with.” Life had been too quiet around here since her grandparents’ deaths.
“I don’t want to put you out,” she protested.
He nudged her forward. “It’s no imposition.”
She wavered a moment but soon started walking again. “Gramps told me you took over your parents’ place after your dad died. Did you still tinker with Gramps on the old car?”
“Yup. Went with them on one of those organized tours they were always taking, too. Saw some cool places most tourists don’t get to see.”
“I wish I could’ve gone on one. Gramps said he’d take me when I turned thirteen, but that’s when Mom left Dad, and I never got to come back for any more summers.”
He steered her around his truck in the driveway. “Yeah, come to think of it, life got pretty quiet around here without you girls.”
She swatted him.
He let out an oomph and clutched his gut.
“Very funny.”
He smiled to himself and mentally ticked off two of his concussion tests. Nothing wrong with Bec’s memory or her aim.
He led her to the side of the house and pulled out his key. “Feel like a steak?”
“Yuck.”
“You’re kidding? You still prefer a burger to steak?”
“Yup.”
He pushed open the door, flicked on the light and motioned her in ahead of him. “What a cheap date. Guys must love you.”
She squirmed past him into the kitchen, then hesitated, her gaze flagging about, pausing briefly on his Home Is Where the Heart Is plaque, then stealing his way. She looked more uneasy than a suspect in custody.
But unlike with his suspects, he felt strangely sad seeing her this way. “Have a seat at the table while I light the barbecue.” He returned a moment later to find her nuzzling his three-legged pooch.
She spluttered at its exuberant kisses and wiped off the slobber with the back of her hand. “What’s his name?”
“Tripod.”
“I should have guessed. He moves amazingly quick for having only three legs.”
Josh filled Tripod’s dish, and the pooch demonstrated just how quick. “While the barbecue heats up, let’s take a look at this bump of yours.”
She finger combed her hair as