Page 2 of The Sheriff's Baby

Because she didn’t want Duncan or anyone else to be gunned down tonight, Joelle fired off a quick text to let him know about the unfamiliar black car and the out-of-sight driver. Duncan responded just seconds later with a thumbs-up emoji, and he pulled his truck into her yard and closer to her porch. He sat there for a few moments, still on his phone, and Joelle figured he was probably running the license plate on the visitor’s vehicle since he’d likely have a good view of the one on the rear of the car.

Duncan finally put his phone away and stepped from his truck, keeping cover behind the door while he fired glances around the yard. He, too, had his Glock drawn and ready.

Her heart did that stupid little flutter it always did whenever she was around him, and for the umpteenth time, Joelle wished she could make herself immune to him. Hard to do, though, with those unforgettable, heart-fluttering looks. The dark brown hair, blue eyes and a face that had no doubt gotten him plenty of lustful looks.

More seconds passed. Her heart raced. Adrenaline pumped through her. Her stomach tightened.

The gusts of wind sure didn’t help, either, with her raw, edgy nerves. Those gusts kicked up, stirring seemingly everything at once, including an owl that sounded agitated by the noise. It was bad timing since the owl’s hoots and squawks could conceal any sounds her visitor might make.

Duncan finally moved away from his truck, coming up the porch steps, and that was her cue to use her phone app to disarm the security system and unlock the door. He stepped in and brought the scent of the fresh night air with him. His own scent, too, one she wished wasn’t so familiar to her.

“You’re not on shift,” she muttered, well aware that her tone wasn’t exactly friendly.

“No. I couldn’t sleep so I went into the office to do some paperwork. I was there when you called. Have you seen anyone around that car or the house?” he tacked onto that.

He met her gaze for just a fraction. She was betting that he was also trying to make himself immune to her.

Joelle shook her head, locked the door and reset the security system. “I heard the car door shut about fifteen minutes ago. It woke me, and when I got up and didn’t see anyone, I called dispatch.” She’d tried to make her voice steady, as if giving a report to her boss. Which she was. But it was hard to keep the emotion out of it.

Duncan glanced at her pale yellow gown that in no way concealed, well, anything. It was thin and snug enough to show the outline of her breasts and baby bump.

Yes, definitely hard to keep the emotion out of this.

“I ran the plates,” he told her. “The vehicle belongs to Alton Martinez in San Antonio.”

She repeated the name to see if it rang any bells. It didn’t. “Does he have a record?”

“I’ll know in the next couple of minutes.” Duncan stepped around her and went to the kitchen window to look out as she’d done.

He’d been in her house before but not in a while. Not since that night her father had died. In fact, Duncan had been here in her bed while her dad was being gunned down. Joelle knew she stood no chance of forgiving herself for that.

For years, Duncan and she had resisted the scalding attraction that’d been between them. They’d believed resisting was a necessity since they were fellow deputies, working side by side in sometimes dangerous situations. They hadn’t wanted to risk a failed relationship that could have interfered with them doing their jobs. They’d resisted time after time, year after year. Until that night of her father’s murder.

And it’d had disastrous consequences.

One good one, though, too.

Joelle hated she hadn’t been with her father to try to stop his death, but she loved the baby she was carrying, and the pregnancy was the main reason she was managing to hold her life together. Duncan had helped some with the managing, too, by making sure they were on different shifts so she wouldn’t have to see him that often. That’s why it’d been such a jolt to have him respond to her call for help.

“Have you gotten any recent threats that I don’t know about?” Duncan asked, the question yanking her out of her thoughts and forcing her to focus on the here and now.

“No. And I haven’t made any recent arrests, either,” she added, even though as sheriff, he would have already known that.

Of course, it wouldn’t have to be anything recent to continue to be a threat. Sometimes, when criminals got out of jail, they went looking for anyone who’d had a part in their incarceration. No one immediately came to mind, though.

Duncan’s phone dinged, and he tore his attention from the window to read the text he’d just gotten. “Martinez doesn’t have a record, but about four hours ago, he reported his car stolen.”

Joelle’s chest clenched, and another wave of adrenaline washed through her. She had steeled herself up for the worst, but she’d hoped this would turn out to be nothing. The fact it was a stolen vehicle meant it was almost certainly something bad.

Staying on the other side of the window, she peered out, searching again for whatever sort of threat this might be. Her mind was having no trouble coming up with some awful scenarios. Especially one.

“Before I went to bed, I accessed some internet newspaper articles on my father’s murder and my mother’s disappearance,” she told him.

No need for her to explain either of those incidents. Her father had been murdered, and on the same day, her mother, Sandra, had simply vanished. Both incidents had gutted her. Both had left her in desperate need of answers.

“I read any and every article connected to my parents,” Joelle added to let Duncan know that wasn’t anything out of the norm. “In one of them, a journalist mentioned that she was continuing to look into the murder and would post updates. I knew it was a long shot, that she probably didn’t know anything we didn’t, but in the comments, I asked if she’d found anything.”

Duncan looked at her, their gazes connecting, and even in the dim light, she could see the sympathy in his eyes. Could practically hear the sigh that Joelle was certain he wanted to make.

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