Page 27 of The Sheriff's Baby

“That could have been a recording,” Duncan pointed out.

Joelle hadn’t considered that, but it was possible. Likely, even, if the kidnapper had already dropped off Molly somewhere else and was putting some distance between him and her. Added to that, Duncan didn’t really have any bargaining power since the money had already been transferred. They’d had no choice about that, though, since it had been the kidnapper’s only demand for Molly’s release. Now these new demands with the quick time restraints spelled trouble.

More cursing from the kidnapper. “Tell him you’re alive,” the man growled.

Seconds ticked off, and Joelle had to breathe because her lungs were starting to ache. “I’m alive,” Molly finally said.

“Where are you?” Duncan asked her.

“I’m not sure. I’m blindfolded, but it’s possible I’m at the McCullough ranch like he said.”

Possible. But maybe the kidnapper had her elsewhere. Still, Molly was alive, and Joelle was going to latch on to that.

“Don’t be late,” the kidnapper added. “You wasted one of your minutes with all this yakking. Be here in nine minutes, Sheriff.” He ended the call.

“This is a trap,” Slater spat out, and his gaze met Joelle’s in the rearview mirror.

She couldn’t disagree. It had all the markings of a trap, but there was another factor here.

“He has Molly, and we have to get her back,” Joelle stated. “The cruiser is bullet-resistant, and I’ll stay inside. Yes, this might be a ruse so he can come after me, but he could do that at the sheriff’s office, too. In fact, that might be what he has in mind. Get all of you hurrying there to the ranch while he’s already right here in town.”

Both Slater and Duncan knew that was true, and this was definitely a “damned if you did, dammed if you didn’t” situation. Duncan seemed to be having a very short mental debate about that.

“Go to your dad’s house fast,” Duncan instructed, and like Slater had done to her earlier, he looked at her, the worry in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be. Let’s go get Molly,” she said. “Who should I call for backup?”

A muscle flickered in Duncan’s jaw when it tightened. “Have dispatch send all available deputies to the location.”

Joelle made the call, already calculating how long it would take them to arrive. Too long probably, and the kidnapper would likely know that. Would likely know, too, the emotional punch that her father’s house would have for her. She hated these sick mind games. Hated the person who’d set all of it into motion.

She checked the time. They’d already burned one of those nine minutes, and she didn’t know the exact time it would take them to get to the ranch. At the speed Slater was going, though, they should make it with maybe a minute or two to spare. A minute or two they wouldn’t have had if Duncan had insisted on taking her back to the sheriff’s office.

The question was what would they face once they were there at the ranch?

“You want me to call my ranch hands and have them meet us there?” Slater asked Duncan.

“Do that. Have them stay back, though, until they get the word we need them.”

He was thinking this could turn into a gunfight. And it possibly could. Joelle tried not to think of the risk this would be to her baby. Especially since Molly and her child were in even greater danger.

While Slater threaded the cruiser around the curvy country roads, Joelle fixed the image of her family’s ranch in her head. Of course, she knew every inch of the house and grounds. Knew, too, that there were plenty of places for someone to lie in wait for them. It didn’t help, either, that there was no one working full-time at the ranch. Slater often sent over his own hands just to check on the place, but there likely wouldn’t have been anyone around when the kidnapper had set all this up. Which could have been hours ago. Heck, he could have been holding Molly here all along, though that would have been risky since eventually, when Duncan had had the manpower, he would have sent someone out to check the place.

“The second floor of the house will be a good place for a sniper,” Joelle said. “Not the roof, though, because of the steep pitch.”

“There are four front-facing windows on that second floor,” Slater added.

Duncan had been to the ranch many times so he no doubt knew all of this, but Joelle thought it wouldn’t hurt to spell out the potential points for an attack.

“From the barn loft,” she went on, “there’s a direct view of the road so anyone there would be able to see the moment we arrive.”

Duncan muttered a sound of agreement and took out his gun. “Try to call the kidnapper again and see if he’ll give us Molly’s exact location. Yeah, it’s a long shot,” he grumbled.

It was, but Joelle tried anyway. As expected, he didn’t answer. It rang out, and she figured he was already in the process of disabling it. Not that they would have the time to trace it. No. This was coming to some kind of showdown fast.

The minutes ticked away but so did the miles as Slater drove toward the ranch. He took the curves at a higher speed than he probably should have, the tires squealing in protest, but her brother kept control of the cruiser and ate up the miles.

Joelle had to force herself to breathe again when the ranch’s pastures came into view. She hadn’t needed proof that things weren’t the same as they had been five months ago, but she got that proof, anyway. There was no livestock in the pastures. None of the beautiful palomino horses her father had loved. Those had already been moved to Slater’s ranch.

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