Read Online At Wolf Ranch by Jennifer Ryan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Ryan
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ability to deliver by the dates marketing wanted to beat the competition.
She and Lela had a plan for running the company. They’d sat up night after night talking about how they’d do things. How they’d make their parents proud.
Look at her now. Lela didn’t need her tears. She needed Ella to pull herself together, avenge her death, and put their uncle behind bars.
Get up and do something.
She swung her legs over the side of the double bed and sat on the edge, letting her aching head settle and her muscles loosen. She stared down at the Led Zeppelin T-shirt and smiled. Not exactly the Kashmir she was used to wearing, but she appreciated the loan.
She stood, slowly, keeping most of her weight on her left leg, and took a tentative step. It hurt, but she’d get by. Her bag and clothes lay on the chair. Her boots sat on the floor, ruined by the snow. She’d have to get a new pair, something suited for this kind of weather. She didn’t know what happened to her coat. Gabe must have hung it somewhere to dry.
Gabe . . .
She’d have to thank him for going above and beyond to take care of her, especially last night when he drove her to his place, afraid to leave her alone. She’d gone quiet on him in the truck and stared out the window, hurting and thinking about Lela. As much as she wanted to get to her ranch and investigate what her sister came here to find, she hadn’t wanted to be alone last night. She didn’t know Gabe, but he’d proven to be a decent guy, someone who took his responsibilities to heart. He insisted she stay in his guest room. He’d taken the time to change out the sheets on the bed his brother often used and gave her a clean shirt and sweatpants to wear for bed. She pulled them on now, smiling at having to pull the drawstrings tight to keep them on. She bent and rolled up the bottoms so she didn’t trip on the too-long length.
She opened the door and hobbled across the hall into the bathroom to relieve her overtaxed bladder. She washed her hands and groaned at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, her pale skin made her look sickly, and her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot thanks to her near constant crying. She cupped her hands under the cold water and splashed her face a few times to take down the puffiness. Ready to face the day, she went to find Gabe.
Gabe had finished feeding the horses and his other chores for the morning. Lela still hadn’t come out of her room. He hoped she finally slept. He heard her crying in the middle of the night and hated to think she hurt and couldn’t find any relief in sleep. He’d wanted to go to her and offer what comfort he could, but didn’t. He didn’t want to freak her out by having a strange man come into her room in the middle of the night, especially after what that fucking asshole Travis did to her.
He sank down on the sofa, snatched the remote, and hit the button. CNN came on, and Lela’s picture lit up the screen.
“New York socialite and heiress to the Wolf fortune, Lela Wolf, was found dead early this morning inside the library of her 5th Avenue penthouse apartment.”
“What the fuck?” Gabe’s heart stopped.
“Investigators left the upscale building moments ago, but they did confirm Lela’s body was found around six o’clock this morning by a member of the Wolf staff with a single gunshot wound in the chest. The police have not yet released information about the scene. At this time, it is unclear if Ella Wolf, the victim’s twin sister, was home at the time of the shooting.
“Inside sources say Ella is missing. A party girl, known for club hopping and closing down bars, Ella often appeared in the tabloids for much more than her fashion sense. Sources say no one has seen Ella since the night before Lela’s murder.
“The Wolf family has a history of tragedy. Stuart Wolf died in a plane crash ten years ago. Rosalind Wolf, grieving for her husband, committed suicide months later. The Wolf twins are
She and Lela had a plan for running the company. They’d sat up night after night talking about how they’d do things. How they’d make their parents proud.
Look at her now. Lela didn’t need her tears. She needed Ella to pull herself together, avenge her death, and put their uncle behind bars.
Get up and do something.
She swung her legs over the side of the double bed and sat on the edge, letting her aching head settle and her muscles loosen. She stared down at the Led Zeppelin T-shirt and smiled. Not exactly the Kashmir she was used to wearing, but she appreciated the loan.
She stood, slowly, keeping most of her weight on her left leg, and took a tentative step. It hurt, but she’d get by. Her bag and clothes lay on the chair. Her boots sat on the floor, ruined by the snow. She’d have to get a new pair, something suited for this kind of weather. She didn’t know what happened to her coat. Gabe must have hung it somewhere to dry.
Gabe . . .
She’d have to thank him for going above and beyond to take care of her, especially last night when he drove her to his place, afraid to leave her alone. She’d gone quiet on him in the truck and stared out the window, hurting and thinking about Lela. As much as she wanted to get to her ranch and investigate what her sister came here to find, she hadn’t wanted to be alone last night. She didn’t know Gabe, but he’d proven to be a decent guy, someone who took his responsibilities to heart. He insisted she stay in his guest room. He’d taken the time to change out the sheets on the bed his brother often used and gave her a clean shirt and sweatpants to wear for bed. She pulled them on now, smiling at having to pull the drawstrings tight to keep them on. She bent and rolled up the bottoms so she didn’t trip on the too-long length.
She opened the door and hobbled across the hall into the bathroom to relieve her overtaxed bladder. She washed her hands and groaned at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, her pale skin made her look sickly, and her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot thanks to her near constant crying. She cupped her hands under the cold water and splashed her face a few times to take down the puffiness. Ready to face the day, she went to find Gabe.
Gabe had finished feeding the horses and his other chores for the morning. Lela still hadn’t come out of her room. He hoped she finally slept. He heard her crying in the middle of the night and hated to think she hurt and couldn’t find any relief in sleep. He’d wanted to go to her and offer what comfort he could, but didn’t. He didn’t want to freak her out by having a strange man come into her room in the middle of the night, especially after what that fucking asshole Travis did to her.
He sank down on the sofa, snatched the remote, and hit the button. CNN came on, and Lela’s picture lit up the screen.
“New York socialite and heiress to the Wolf fortune, Lela Wolf, was found dead early this morning inside the library of her 5th Avenue penthouse apartment.”
“What the fuck?” Gabe’s heart stopped.
“Investigators left the upscale building moments ago, but they did confirm Lela’s body was found around six o’clock this morning by a member of the Wolf staff with a single gunshot wound in the chest. The police have not yet released information about the scene. At this time, it is unclear if Ella Wolf, the victim’s twin sister, was home at the time of the shooting.
“Inside sources say Ella is missing. A party girl, known for club hopping and closing down bars, Ella often appeared in the tabloids for much more than her fashion sense. Sources say no one has seen Ella since the night before Lela’s murder.
“The Wolf family has a history of tragedy. Stuart Wolf died in a plane crash ten years ago. Rosalind Wolf, grieving for her husband, committed suicide months later. The Wolf twins are
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