Page 60 of The Sheriff's Baby

“You had to stop her,” Joelle repeated, and she managed to keep her voice calm. “But you couldn’t reason with her.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Woodrow peer around the side of the barn, and she felt another surge of hope. If Duncan and her brother didn’t get a shot, then maybe Woodrow could.

“Yes,” Brad muttered, and it seemed for a few moments, he was lost in some memories with Shanda. “The hired guns, too, since they chickened out after taking the dispatcher who helped arrest Shanda. Not Arlo, though. He tried and tried hard. So did Willie Jay, and he knew to do the right thing after he was caught.”

“I’m guessing Willie Jay knew he was a dead man once he was in custody so he ended things,” Duncan said.

“He did the right thing,” Brad emphasized. “Not my mother, though. She was going to rat me out, just like Shanda,” he added in a mutter that was coated with pain.

“Is your mother alive?” Duncan asked.

“Of course.” The pain in his eyes evaporated, and Brad’s gaze flicked to the barn. “She’s, uh, waiting her turn. I’ve already planted some records for the withdrawals from the bank to point to that idiot Hamlin hiring some muscle to carry out the kidnappings and such, and now I’ll walk away,” he said.

Oh, mercy. If Kate was in the barn, Brad probably didn’t have plans for her to come out. He would likely kill her and pin that on Hamlin, too.

Then, Joelle had a sickening thought. What if Brad had managed to get his hands on Molly? She could be in the barn right now, gagged, unable to call out for help.

“You waited a long time to come after us,” Duncan said, his gaze fixed on Brad. “It’s been five months since you murdered Sheriff McCullough.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Brad snapped, and the grip tightened on the rope, yanking Joelle back and nearly causing her to fall in the well. “Shanda thought I did, and I was afraid she’d be able to convince you that I had. Convince you enough to arrest me. But I didn’t kill him. Someone beat me to it.”

Joelle hadn’t thought anything else could add to her grief, but that did it. From the moment Brad had revealed himself, she’d thought they had found her father’s killer. Of course, Brad could be lying.

But why would he?

He’d just confessed to killing Shanda and orchestrating a plot to get revenge for her arrest. Why not just own up to her father’s murder if he’d done it?

Because he hadn’t, that’s why.

Now it was Joelle who had to choke back a sob, and later—sweet heaven, there would be a later—she’d deal with that. For now, though, she had to stay alive and make sure Duncan, Slater, Woodrow and Ronnie did, too.

“Do you have Sandra McCullough?” Duncan asked. “Or was it a recording you spliced together?”

Brad’s brief smile gave away his answer, but Brad confirmed it anyway. “Easy to fake a recording when she’s blabbed on and on during interviews. I had a lot to work with to create a lure.”

Part of her was relieved that Brad didn’t have her mother. Joelle had to hope that meant she was alive and would be found.

“So, what now?” Duncan demanded.

“Now, you step away from your cruiser,” Brad said, his voice eerily calm. He was blinking hard because the rain was getting in his eyes. “Slater, too.”

“Step away so you can gun them down,” Joelle spelled out. She saw Woodrow again, and he was on his belly inching closer.

“Of course.” Again, Brad’s voice stayed calm. “This was the best way I knew to draw them out into the open, and I’ll deal with Molly later. She’s the only one left, and then all the loose ends will be tied up.”

“My baby is not a loose end.” In contrast, there was plenty of anger in Joelle’s voice. “She’s an innocent victim in all of this.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that. I am,” Brad repeated when she glared at him. “But I’ll make this fast. Once Duncan and Slater are dead, then I can finish you fast. You won’t feel a thing.”

Joelle doubted that, and when Brad started to glance around, she knew she had to do something to pull his attention back to her. “Slater had nothing to do with Shanda’s arrest.”

Fresh rage flared in Brad’s eyes. “He’s his father’s son, and if he’d been on duty, he would have taken part in it.” He shifted those anger-filled eyes to Duncan. “You’ve got five seconds to step away from the cruiser.” And he started the countdown. “One, two, three—”

Before he could get to four, Joelle caught onto the rope and gave it a quick hard jerk. It did what she wanted. It off-balanced Brad. But it did the same to her, and Joelle had to struggle to catch hold of the sides of the well so she wouldn’t fall and plunge to the bottom. She scrambled onto the ground, clutching at the grass to make sure she didn’t slip back into the gaping hole.

Brad cursed, calling her a vile name, but the sound of the gunshot stopped his profanity tirade. A split second later, there was another blast. Then, a third.

Behind her, the big thug fell. The headshot had made sure of that. Brad, however, stayed on his feet. Frozen with his face pale with shock. He dropped the rope, clutching his left hand to his chest.

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