Page 59 of The Sheriff's Baby

“I won’t,” Woodrow assured him.

And Woodrow would try. Even if it meant giving up his own life, both Woodrow and Ronnie would attempt to save her. That could get them all killed. But Duncan had to hold on to the hope that all of them would make it out of this alive.

Had to.

Because he couldn’t imagine a life without Joelle.

Woodrow ended the call, no doubt so he could focus on getting to Joelle. Duncan focused, too, and he decided not to go with a quiet approach. That would eat up precious time since he would have to park at the end of the driveway and run to the well. Instead, he turned on the sirens, hoping it would distract the two men and cover up any sounds from Woodrow and Ronnie’s approach.

Duncan took the turn into the ranch, the cruiser practically flying when he slammed on the accelerator again. Everything inside him was yelling for him to get to Joelle.

He spotted the car in the pasture by the barn. Then, he spotted Joelle. She was, indeed, being used as a shield for two masked men. But she was alive. For now, anyway. She was also right next to the well, and one of the snakes holding her stooped down to shove the cover of the well aside.

Duncan couldn’t be sure, but he figured both men were looking at his cruiser now. Joelle certainly was, and he saw the mix of emotions on her face. The fear. The hope. The extreme sense of dread that their baby wasn’t safe.

That none of them were.

He fired some glances around, to see if there were any other gunmen lying in wait. No sign of them, but Duncan did spot Woodrow and Ronnie. They were skulking toward the barn, staying on the side where the two thugs hopefully wouldn’t be able to see them.

Duncan drove through the yard until one of the thugs motioned for him to stop. That wouldn’t have caused him to hit the brakes, but then the thug’s partner yanked back Joelle’s head, using the choke hold he now had on her. Duncan stopped about thirty feet away, drew his gun and threw open his door. He used the door as a shield and took aim, even though he had nowhere near a clean shot. On the other side of the cruiser, Slater did the same.

Neither man spoke, but the bigger one of the two continued to hold Joelle while the other looped a rope around her. Not in the usual way someone would tie up a person. This was more like a harness that they looped around her bottom.

When the two goons started to move Joelle, Duncan’s heart slammed against his chest. They were going to put her in the well. Duncan tried not to look at Joelle’s face since he knew that would be too much of a distraction. Instead, he focused on the men, waiting for one of them to move so he could take the shot.

But that didn’t happen.

He could only watch as Joelle clutched the rope, and the goons began to lower her into the well.

“Shoot me or my hired help, and we drop her,” the smaller man said.

And that’s when Duncan knew who was behind this. Because he instantly recognized the voice.

Brad.

JOELLECURSEDWHENshe heard Brad’s voice. Everyone in the sheriff’s office had searched nonstop to find out the identity of their attacker, and now they had confirmation of who it was with just that handful of words.

Shoot one of us, and we drop her.

And they would. They already had her over the opening of the well, but she had no idea why. If they wanted her dead, why not just kill her...

That thought immediately stopped because she knew why. A moment later Brad confirmed that, too.

“We’re going to play a game, Sheriff Holder,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. Brad yanked off his ski mask. “You and Slater McCullough are going to die. No way around that,” he added in a snarl. “Joelle, too, but you can make her death painless or a nightmare.”

It was already a nightmare. She was literally hovering over a well that was at least a hundred feet deep. The sides were narrow so it was possible she could try to hold on, but she wouldn’t be able to do that for long. Brad had a grip on the end of the rope, but there were no guarantees whatsoever that he wouldn’t just let her drop.

“What the hell do you want?” Duncan snarled.

“Revenge,” Brad spat out just as the first drops of rain started to fall. “For ruining my life. For bringing me to this.”

“You brought yourself to this,” Joelle muttered.

Brad apparently heard her because he made a feral sound of outrage. “You and your fellow cops arrested Shanda. You caused her to miscarry,” he shouted.

“And you killed her,” Joelle said. Yes, it was a risk to agitate him like this, but the agitation might distract him so that Duncan and Slater could shoot him.

No feral sound this time. Brad made more of a hoarse sob. “That was an accident. She was going to the cops because she thought I’d killed Sheriff McCullough, and I had to stop her.” He sounded genuinely sorry about that. And maybe he was.

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