Page 31 of The Sheriff's Baby

Duncan took the stairs two and three at a time to reach the first floor, and he was about to barrel out the front door when something from the living room window caught his eye.

Joelle.

Hell. She wasn’t in the cruiser but on the side of the house, and there was a hulking thug with one hand twisted in her hair and the other holding a gun that was pointed at her head. He was dragging her toward the back of the house. Maybe toward a vehicle he had stashed somewhere on the ranch.

Duncan turned around and headed for the back door, and he cursed when he had to waste precious seconds fumbling to get a deadbolt open. He finally managed it. Finally, got onto the back porch. But he didn’t run. In fact, he tried to stay as quiet as possible when he made his way to the side and peered around it.

Duncan silently cursed. Then, he prayed.

The thug had his back to Duncan and was manhandling Joelle. The grip he had on her hair had to be excruciating, but she was alive, and Duncan couldn’t see any blood. However, he could see Joelle trying to shift her feet as the would-be kidnapper maneuvered her over some kind of photos on the ground. Later, he’d see what those photos were all about, but for now he had to figure that Joelle was attempting to get into a position so she could fight back.

Duncan had to admire her grit, but this was a situation that could get her killed. Even if that wasn’t the thug’s intention. The fact he was dragging her somewhere meant he wanted her alive, but he might accidently shoot her if this turned into an outright scuffle.

Still, something had to be done. And it wouldn’t be a shot since Duncan didn’t have a clean one. The guy was big, at least a head taller than Joelle, but he was well aware of that and was hunkering down enough so that someone wouldn’t put a bullet in his brain. Even Duncan couldn’t risk shooting him from behind because the shot could go through him and into Joelle.

Duncan glanced over his shoulder when he sensed the movement. Not another thug but rather Slater who was quietly making his way to the end of the porch next to Duncan. Slater didn’t curse when he saw what was playing out in the side yard, but Duncan suspected there was plenty of silent profanity going on. Plenty of questions, too. Well, specifically one question.

How the hell had this snake gotten Joelle out of the cruiser?

He suspected that a trio of gunshots in the same exact spot and a hefty sized gun had something to do with that. The cruiser was bullet-resistant, but shots could still get through. Or maybe something had happened to force Joelle out of the cruiser. Later, he’d want the answers to that, but for now he focused on keeping Joelle alive.

Duncan kept his gun aimed and ready, and he watched as the thug continued to drag Joelle. Duncan had to duck back out of sight, though, when he saw the guy turn to look over his shoulder. Thankfully, Slater did the same.

Since Duncan didn’t want to risk the thug seeing him, he just stood there and waited. It felt like a couple of lifetimes. Bad ones. Long grueling moments with the stakes as high as they could get.

When the thug finally came into view, Duncan could see that Joelle was still squirming, still trying to fight this snake with her bare hands. The guy turned to take another glance behind him.

And that’s when Duncan knew he had to make his move.

It was a risk. Anything he did at this point would be. But he tossed his own gun aside and launched himself off the porch, right onto the guy’s back.

Duncan didn’t do anything to break his fall. Or the thug’s. Duncan didn’t care if he broke the SOB’s neck. Instead, he focused on knocking away the gun that was pointed at Joelle. That was the danger now. That had to be his priority. That and making sure Joelle didn’t get hurt in what was about to happen next.

The thug grunted in pain when Duncan slammed into him and then yelled when Duncan’s tackle rammed him onto the ground. Duncan didn’t try to break his own fall but rather Joelle’s. He hooked his right arm around her, cushioning her as best he could. He wasn’t sure if it worked, but she didn’t cry out in pain.

He hoped that wasn’t because he’d knocked her unconscious.

But he soon felt her move, scrambling away from them. Good. Though Duncan knew Joelle wouldn’t be running. She would no doubt be looking for a way to help him win this fight. He didn’t especially want her to do that, but this was Joelle, and there’d be no stopping her.

Cursing, the thug used his elbow and jammed it right into Duncan’s jaw. He could have sworn he saw stars, but he didn’t let the pain faze him. Couldn’t. Duncan grabbed the guy by the throat and punched him right in the face. There was a satisfying popping sound, followed by a spray of blood that let Duncan know he’d broken the man’s nose.

Duncan didn’t stop there. He rammed his fist into his throat, a maneuver he knew would disable him. And it did. Sputtering out a hoarse sound that was akin to a death rattle the SOB dropped back on the ground, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

Slater was suddenly right there, with his gun aimed at the man. Joelle was, too, and Duncan guessed that she’d grabbed the thug’s weapon and was now ready to use it on him. Duncan was hoping that wouldn’t be necessary.

“It’s best if he’s alive so we can question him,” Duncan managed to say.

It was a reminder that he thought Joelle needed because she had her steely gaze pinned to her attacker, and the look in her eyes told Duncan she was ready to put a bullet in the guy if he tried to attack them again. The man wouldn’t be able to do that, though, because he’d need breath to manage it, and it’d be a while before he got that back. Added to that, it’d be suicide for him to try to move with two cops—no, make that five—holding him at gunpoint.

Duncan got to his feet as fast as he could. “Where’s Molly?” he demanded. “Point if you can’t speak.”

The guy kept groaning, kept gasping, but he still somehow managed a defiant look. Added to that, he tried to mutter something, and Duncan thought it was “go to hell, Sheriff.”

So, he wasn’t going to bend. Not at the moment, anyway.

“Cuff him and get him to jail,” Duncan told Woodrow and Ronnie. “Charge him with attempted kidnapping and murder of a police officer. No bail for that.” He turned to Luca and the others. “Keep searching for Molly. She might be in the vehicle this SOB used to get here.”

With those steps set in motion, Duncan took hold of Joelle’s arm. She was trembling, but she wasn’t in shock, and other than a few red marks on her temple and neck, she didn’t appear to be injured. He sent up a whole load of thanks for that.

---