Chapter Three

While Joelle sat in the waiting room of the emergency room of Saddle Ridge Hospital, she tried to keep her breathing level and tamp down the worry that was threatening to cloud her mind. Worry wouldn't help—not her baby, not Molly and not her. What she needed right now was for Molly to be found alive and well and for her to find answers as to what the heck was going on.

Duncan was clearly after those answers, too, and he had been on the phone nonstop since they'd arrived at the hospital with the mystery woman. The woman who'd delivered that sickening message.

I'm so sorry, but he wants you dead .

That was definitely something Joelle hadn't wanted to hear, and it'd left her with even more questions. Who was the woman and who was the he she'd proclaimed wanted to kill her? Was he the person who'd driven that stolen car to her house and set the fire? It was hard for her to believe that it wasn't connected, but until the woman regained consciousness, all Joelle could do was speculate and deal with her own phone calls. So far, none of those calls had given her any good news.

Plenty of bad, though.

Her house was basically in ashes now because the fire department hadn't been able to move in to try to save it since there'd been the threat of an active shooter. There were no signs of the shooter now, though. No sign of Molly, either. And the now-unconscious mystery woman had had no ID on her so they didn't even know who she was.

However, Joelle had gotten some good news, not from a call but rather the checkup she'd had shortly after Duncan and she had arrived at the hospital. Despite the traumatic situation she'd experienced, the baby was fine. The monitors had shown a strong, steady heartbeat and lots of movement—signs that had fulfilled a lot of Joelle's prayers. Her baby was okay.

Now, Joelle had to make sure she stayed that way.

The only instructions the doctor had given her was to get some rest, and Duncan had been there to hear that part. Which meant he'd soon be trying to get her off her feet. She was exhausted, no doubt about that, and exhaustion wasn't good for the baby, but neither was having shots fired at them. To make sure an attack like that didn't happen again, they needed answers fast.

Since Duncan was still on the phone, Joelle went after some of those answers by making a call to dispatch to check if there'd been any missing persons' reports in the area of someone matching their mystery woman's description. There hadn't been, but Joelle had known that was a long shot, that the woman could have come from anywhere and maybe wasn't missing at all. She could have arrived shortly before she'd staggered toward Joelle's house.

Emphasis on staggered .

She hadn't been steady on her feet at all and seemed dazed, perhaps even drugged. But it was also possible she had been experiencing some kind of medical emergency that had created those symptoms. If so, the woman might not have even been aware of what she was saying.

I'm so sorry, but he wants you dead.

Though she certainly hadn't seemed so dazed or drugged when she'd spoken those words. She'd seemed adamant about delivering a warning with a potential deadly outcome.

Joelle was about to text one of the deputies to see if there'd been any signs of a vehicle that the woman could have used to get to or near her place, but before she could press the number, she got an incoming call from one of her brothers, Ruston McCullough, a homicide detective with San Antonio PD.

It wasn't Ruston's first call of the morning. That initial one had come while Duncan and she were en route to the hospital. She had assured Ruston and her other brother, Slater, and their kid sister, Bree, that she hadn't been harmed, but Joelle knew they were worried about her. Knew, too, that the calls to check on her would continue until they could see her face-to-face and make sure the baby and she were, indeed, okay.

"Anything?" Ruston immediately asked. His tone was brusque as it usually was, but Joelle was aware that the question covered a lot of bases, including her own state of mind.

"No. We're still in limbo when it comes to any info that'll help." She paused, had to because of the sudden lump in her throat. "Still nothing on Molly. Someone took her, and she has to be terrified."

Joelle refused to believe it could be worse than that. She wouldn't accept that Molly could be hurt or dead. She had to cling to the hope they would somehow find her and bring her safely home.

"Any ransom demand?" Ruston questioned.

Joelle had to repeat her "no." But in a way, a ransom demand would be a positive sign. It meant she'd been taken for money and would presumably be released unharmed if the money was paid.

Ruston sighed and paused a long time. "I'm sorry about your house. You've got the keys and security code to stay at my place, but I don't want you there alone. Just hang with Duncan until I can get there. I want to keep coordinating with the Rangers to try to locate Molly."

"Keep on that," she insisted. She would have also told him she would come up with a safe place to stay, however, when Duncan ended his latest call and started her way, she put the rest of this conversation on hold. "I have to go," she told Ruston. "I'll let you know if I get any updates."

She ended the call and stood to face Duncan. He definitely didn't look to be the bearer of good news, and that caused her heart to sink again. She prayed he wasn't about to tell her Molly was dead.

"We haven't found Molly yet," Duncan immediately said, probably picking up the worst-case-scenario vibe from her expression. "Some of the reserve deputies are canvasing the area around her house to find out if anyone saw anything."

The late hour wouldn't help with that, but maybe Molly had managed to scream or something. If so, that would have already been reported, but Joelle had to hang on to the hope that they'd get a viable lead.

"The CSIs are going through Molly's house and the stolen car left at your place," Duncan continued. "They're still looking for her vehicle, too." Even though it wasn't necessary for him to identify what her he was referring to, he tipped his head to the exam room where the medical staff had taken the mystery woman. "She didn't have any ID on her."

"And there's no missing person's report matching her description," Joelle provided.

Duncan nodded. "Apparently, she drifted in and out of consciousness when she was in the ambulance so when we're able to speak to her, she might be able to tell us who she is. And why she issued that warning," he tacked onto that.

Yes, that was vital for the safety of their baby, and Joelle reminded herself that there were a lot of people working to get answers and make sure that safety happened.

"Do you think this woman and the warning are directly connected to Molly?" Joelle came out and asked.

Duncan's gaze locked with hers. Something they usually avoided because of the heat that was always there between them. Heat that came despite any and everything going on. There'd always be an intimate connection, especially now that she was carrying his child, but because she was so worried about Molly, it was easier for Joelle to shove that heat aside.

"Yes," he admitted. The sigh he added was long, heavy and weary. "That's why I made a call to the FBI. I wanted to see if they were aware of any black market baby rings or perpetrators in the area who could be targeting pregnant women. Nothing like that is on their radar, but they're checking to see if this is someone from out of state."

Joelle had tried to maintain a stoic expression, her cop face. She tried not to let the possibility of something like that give her this jolt of fear. But it did. Mercy, it did.

Duncan muttered some profanity and took hold of her arm. Probably because she looked ready to collapse. Joelle was almost certain that wouldn't happen, almost, but she allowed him to help her back into one of the chairs, and he sank down on the one beside her.

"Deep breaths," he advised her. "Count to ten. Tell me the latest names you're considering for the baby."

Part of her resented Duncan for seeing the weakness in her and knowing she needed help. Part of her also resented that such measures might be necessary to keep herself from spiraling. But the resentment was really for herself, for feeling this clawing terror all the way to the bone. Those sort of emotions didn't help. In fact, they could hurt, and she didn't want anything else that could hinder them in this investigation.

"I'll be all right," she muttered, hoping it was true.

The sound Duncan made let her know that he wasn't so sure of that at all, and she might have launched into more attempts at convincing him if her phone hadn't rang. "It's my sister again," she muttered, and even though Joelle wasn't in the mood to talk to her, she had to answer it or it would cause Bree to worry even more than she was already was.

"Bree," Joelle greeted. "I'm all right."

"So you say." Her sister's sigh was plenty loud enough for Joelle to hear. "I'll believe it when I see it. I'm coming home, but I can't get there for at least a couple of days."

Joelle groaned. Bree was a lawyer working on a special task force in Dallas, six hours away, and she knew Bree had used all her vacation time and then some when she'd come home after their father's murder and disappearance. Since Joelle figured she stood no chance whatsoever of convincing Bree she was fine and didn't need her sister to be there, she went with a different tactic.

"Everyone in the sheriff's office is tied up with the investigation," Joelle spelled out. "And right now Saddle Ridge isn't the safest place to be."

"I'm coming home," Bree insisted, and then she paused. Sighed again. "I need to see you. There are things I want to talk to you about."

Joelle didn't like the sound of that, especially since she and her sister communicated at least weekly either by phone call or text. "Is something wrong?" Joelle came out and asked.

It was a valid question. Like her, Bree had been devastated with what had happened to their parents. Added to that, Bree had broken up with her longtime boyfriend, Luca. Then again, Luca and Bree had had an on-again, off-again thing going on since high school. Since Bree was often involved in high-profile legal cases for the state and was gone a lot, both Luca and she had had other relationships. But something had happened between Luca and Bree to make her sister pull the plug and now things were permanently off.

Or so Bree had said.

Luca wasn't offering up anything so Joelle wasn't sure what had happened. Maybe it was something similar to what had gone on between Duncan and her. Too much pain and grief. Too much guilt. Too much, period.

"I should be home by early next week," Bree added a moment later. "In the meantime, you stay safe. I love you, Joelle."

"I'll certainly try," Joelle assured her. "And I love you, too," she said, ending the call just as the door to the exam room finally opened.

It wasn't the mystery woman who came out, of course, but it was a familiar face. Dr. Chase Benton, one of the doctors who worked at Saddle Ridge General Hospital.

Dr. Benton spotted them and walked their way as Duncan and she headed to him. "Is she awake?" Duncan immediately asked.

"She is, for the moment anyway," the doctor said, but there was caution in his voice. He stepped in front of Duncan when he started toward the exam room. "I'm well aware that you need to see her," he quickly added. "I've heard what's going on, and I understand you have to question her, but you should know that she's still unable to stay awake for more than a couple of seconds. Unable to tell me her name as well. I suspect she's been drugged, and that the drugs combined with a head injury are the reasons she's lapsing in and out of consciousness."

That wasn't a surprise to either Duncan or her, and that led them to more questions. Who'd drugged her and why? Hopefully, they'd know the answers to that soon.

"Her blood pressure is high as well," the doctor continued. "And that means when you question her, you can't push too hard. I can't give her anything right now for the blood pressure until I find out what other drugs are in her system."

Duncan groaned. "I have to push," he insisted. "Molly Radel and her baby's life could depend on it."

Dr. Benton's eyes widened. "You believe the patient had something to do with that?"

"I think the likelihood is high that there's a connection. It's possible the woman can tell us who took Molly."

Despite Duncan's use of likelihood and possible , the doctor nodded and stepped to the side. "All right, you can question her, but I have to be there. And trust me, I will pull the plug on the interview if I feel she can't handle it."

Duncan nodded, too, while he was already on the move. With Dr. Benton and Joelle right behind him, Duncan stepped into the ER room where the woman was lying on the bed. She was hooked up to a monitor and had an IV in the back of her hand. Joelle also spotted some injuries. There was a gash on the side of her head, some bruising as well and her feet were covered with cuts and scrapes.

"She obviously walked barefoot through some rough terrain," the doctor pointed out. "There was also powder on her clothes. The kind of powder you'd get from a deployed airbag."

So maybe she'd been involved in a car accident. However, that didn't explain what had happened to her shoes or why she'd ended up walking to Molly's. Or the ominous message she'd delivered.

The woman's eyes were open, and when she lifted her head, her attention went straight to them. Joelle didn't see any recognition in her expression, only wariness and confusion. Added to that, her gaze still had that dazed look she'd had when she arrived at Molly's.

"I'm Sheriff Duncan Holder," he said, stepping closer to her. He tipped his head to Joelle. "And this is Deputy Joelle McCullough. Could you tell us your name?"

The woman looked at the doctor and then shifted her attention to Joelle. "I came to see you," she muttered, her voice a ragged whisper.

That gave Joelle some hope. If the woman remembered that, then she might recall other things, too.

"You did," Joelle verified. She started to remind her of what she'd said before she collapsed but decided to press for an ID instead. "Who are you?"

She shook her head as if trying to figure that out, and then murmured. "Kate Moreland."

Duncan got out his phone as she spoke the last syllable, and he fired off a quick text, no doubt to get someone at the sheriff's office to run a background check on her.

"Kate Moreland," Joelle repeated, mentally testing out the name, but it didn't ring any bells. "You know me?"

Kate shook her head. "I know of you." Her voice broke into a hoarse groan. She eased back onto the bed and closed her eyes. "I had to warn you."

Another positive sign that she'd remembered that. Of course, the warning she'd delivered hadn't been positive at all.

"You said someone wanted me dead," Joelle reminded her. "Who?"

She didn't open her eyes, and it was at least fifteen seconds before she answered. "My son," she finally said, and she broke down into a heaving sob. A reaction that caused the numbers on the monitor to spike.

"You need to leave," Dr. Benton insisted. "Her blood pressure's too high. Step out while I try to get her stabilized." It wasn't a request, and the doctor practically muscled them out of the room.

Duncan cursed and took out his phone. "Slater's running the background check on her. I'll see if he's got anything yet." However, Duncan's phone rang before he could call her brother.

"It's Ronnie," he relayed to her, and he put the deputy's call on speaker.

"We found a car, a dark blue Audi," Ronnie said right off. "It looks as if the driver hit the east side of the bridge and lost control. It was off the road and all the way down on the banks of the creek."

The creek was only about a half mile from Molly's, and if it did, indeed, belong to Kate, then the woman had likely been traveling from the interstate. If she'd been coming from town, then the collision would have probably happened on the west side of the bridge. Also, if she'd been coming from town, Duncan or one of the responding deputies would have spotted her on the road before she'd made it to Molly's.

"I'm running the plates now," Ronnie continued. "But there was a purse and a phone in the vehicle. According to the driver's license, the purse's owner is Kate Moreland. She has a San Antonio address."

San Antonio was a half hour away, which meant Ruston could no doubt help with getting them any info they needed on her. And her son. Joelle wanted to know his name and why Kate had believed he might want to kill her.

"When you do a thorough search of the car," Duncan said, "check her GPS to confirm if she was heading to Molly's or Joelle's. And let me know if you find anything we can use."

Ronnie assured him that he would, and Duncan ended the call to make one to Slater. Her brother answered on the first ring.

"Kate Moreland," Slater immediately said, and he rattled off an address in San Antonio. "Age fifty-three. Divorced. No criminal record. She's a very wealthy businesswoman who owns a half dozen martial arts and workout gyms."

"You have the name of her son?" Duncan pressed.

"Yeah. Brad. Age twenty-eight, and I'm just scratching the surface on him. Why? Is he part of this?"

"Kate seems to think so," Duncan quickly verified. "She believes her son might be out to kill Joelle."

Slater cursed. "He's got a record for assault during a bar fight, but I don't see any connection to Joelle or Saddle Ridge..." His words trailed off, and he cursed again. "But his ex-wife, Shanda Cantrell, does. My dad and you arrested her nearly two years ago for reckless driving and resisting arrest. Either of you remember that?"

"I do," Duncan said.

"So do I," Joelle murmured, trying to zoom in on any info that was lingering around in her memory. The info had plenty of gaps in it so she took out her phone and started searching while she continued. "I recall Dad and Duncan bringing in a woman for those charges. They had me search her for weapons, and because she was being so combative, Dad put her in a holding cell."

"A definite yes to her being combative," Duncan agreed. "She tried to take a punch at me. And she cursed and spat at Joelle. Cursed the sheriff, too."

Slater must have pulled up the file right before she did because he was the one to add more. "She ended up pleading guilty, paid a fine and did some community service. Dad worked it out so she could do that service in San Antonio so she wouldn't miss any work at her job as a florist." Slater paused a moment. "Had she been drinking?" he asked. "Was that the reason for the reckless driving?"

"No alcohol," Joelle was able to provide. "She admitted to having been in a heated argument with someone on her phone. She was also speeding when she rammed into a mailbox, swerved and nearly hit another car." Then, she paused. Had to. Because she spotted something in the file notes. "Shanda was three months pregnant."

Both Duncan and Slater went silent, but she could hear Slater clicking away on a keyboard. "She has no children listed. Neither does Brad."

So either Shanda had miscarried or the baby had died. Either way, that might play into motive. If there was motive for Shanda, that is. Kate hadn't said a word about her ex-daughter-in-law, only her son. Maybe then, losing a child had something to do with why Kate had come here to issue that warning about Brad.

"I'll obviously want a conversation with both Shanda and Brad," Duncan insisted.

"I can arrange that," Slater volunteered. "When I call him, how much do you want him to know about his mother?"

Duncan's forehead bunched up while he gave that some thought. Joelle definitely wanted to hear how he was going to handle this, but her phone rang, and her chest tightened when she saw Unknown Caller on the screen.

"This could be the ransom demand," Joelle muttered, answering the call on speaker and hitting the record function on her phone.

She steeled herself up to hear a snarled threat and demand from the kidnapper. But it wasn't.

"Help me," the woman said.

It was Molly.