Chapter Seven

Even though Joelle knew that Duncan still had plenty more questions for Kate, that would have to wait. Twenty minutes wasn't a lot of time to get ready for the kidnapper to drop off Molly.

Or for the kidnapper to put the finishing touches on a ploy to draw Duncan and her out.

Joelle was well aware that might be the case. So was Duncan, and he would almost certainly insist that she stay at the sheriff's office. That wasn't what Joelle wanted to do, but she figured she would end up going along with it. There was no need to put the baby at even greater risk.

"I'll have to come back to finish this interview," Duncan told Kate, and he didn't wait for the woman to respond. He motioned for Joelle to follow him, and they headed out the door.

"Keep a close watch on Kate," Duncan muttered to Anita. "And if she makes any calls, I want to know about it."

Yes, because Kate could be behind whatever was about to happen, and she might want to make a call to someone she'd hired to do her bidding.

They hurried back toward the ER doors where Slater was waiting for them. The moment they were back in the cruiser, Duncan took out his phone. "I need to assemble some backup," he muttered.

Yes, that was a must, and Joelle could see how this could play out. She'd man the sheriff's office, probably along with Luca and Carmen, and then every other available deputy would go with Duncan. Joelle prayed that would be enough protection if something went wrong.

Before Duncan could even make a call, her phone rang, and Joelle frowned when she saw the Unknown Caller on the screen. She showed it to Duncan, and the sudden alarm on his face no doubt mirrored hers. Joelle answered, put it on speaker, and the kidnapper's voice poured through the cruiser.

"Molly's at the former sheriff's house," the man snarled.

Oh, mercy. There . It would be there. The house where Joelle had been raised. But where her father had also been murdered. She hadn't been able to step inside the place since the initial investigation.

In the background, Joelle heard Molly call out, "Joelle." That was all Molly managed to say before the kidnapper issued an order for her to shut up.

"If you're not here in ten minutes, the deal is off," the man warned them.

"But you said twenty minutes," Duncan snarled right back.

"Ten," the kidnapper repeated.

Slater and Duncan both cursed. "I want proof of life," Duncan demanded.

The kidnapper cursed, too. "You already got it. You heard her yell Joelle's name."

"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.

The sun was fully up now, but the morning mist was still hovering over the pasture grass, giving the place an eerie, otherworldly feel. The mist hung around the house, too, and while it wasn't dense enough to conceal a shooter, she couldn't help but think of the smoke. And the fire that had destroyed her house. It was possible the kidnapper would do that here, too.

Slater cursed again, and Joelle soon saw why. There was a man at the end of the long driveway that led to the house. He was standing next to a black truck.

Hamlin.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Duncan grumbled, taking the question right out of her mouth.

"He's armed," Slater was quick to point out.

Joelle had noticed that as well. Hamlin had a gun in his right hand, and he jerked as if about to aim it at them. He didn't, though. Nor did he relax the grip he had on the weapon.

Her first thought was he was the kidnapper, and this was that showdown they'd expected. But she was betting none of them had expected the man to be out in the open like this.

Slater pulled the cruiser to a jarring stop just a few feet away from Hamlin. "Do you see anyone else?" he asked, his gaze already combing the house and grounds.

Joelle and Duncan were doing the same thing. Looking for hired guns that Hamlin might have brought with him, but there was no one visible in any of the second-floor windows or the barn.

Duncan lowered his window a fraction. "Stay put, Hamlin," he called out when the PI began to walk toward the cruiser. "And drop your weapon."

Hamlin glanced at his gun and scowled. Then, he huffed. "What the hell is this? Did you set me up or something?"

"Drop your weapon," Duncan repeated. His voice had a bite to it, but he added even more with the repeat.

On another huff, Hamlin tossed the gun on the ground and lifted his hands in the air. "I haven't done anything wrong," the PI protested.

"Then, why are you here?" Duncan demanded.

"Because you texted me and asked me to come." Hamlin's response was quick. Maybe rehearsed.

"I didn't text you," Duncan informed him, and Joelle noticed that Duncan was continuing to look for anyone else.

Hamlin shook his head. "But you did. My phone's in my pocket. I can show you."

Duncan didn't take him up on that offer, probably because he knew the text had been sent by someone else to set this all up. But what was this ? "We're here looking for a kidnapped woman, and the kidnapper gave us this location."

That put some alarm in Hamlin's eyes, but since Joelle was plenty skeptical when it came to the PI, she figured that, too, could have been rehearsed. "I don't know anything about that, and I haven't seen anyone else since I got here."

"He could be telling the truth," Slater whispered. "Brad, Kate or the kidnapper could have arranged for Hamlin to come here to muddy the waters. Of course, if it's Brad or Kate, then it means they know all about Hamlin."

Yes, which would mean they'd know he was investigating the sale of babies. And that he believed Kate was behind that. However, Brad could have arranged this, too, if he wanted the cops looking at someone else other than him for Shanda's murder, the kidnapping and the earlier attack.

"There's only a minute left on the kidnapper's deadline," Joelle reminded them. Though she wasn't sure if that deadline applied any longer since they were, indeed, at the ranch.

Where there was seemingly no sign of Molly.

"Yeah," Duncan muttered, and he seemed to take a breath of relief when there was the sound of sirens in the distance. Backup would be there soon. "Hamlin, get face down on the ground, and don't block the road."

Joelle looked at Duncan, but she already knew what he had in mind. He'd leave backup to deal with Hamlin, and the PI would no doubt be handcuffed so he wouldn't be a threat. Good, because Joelle had the sickening feeling they already had enough threats to deal with.

And priority was finding Molly.

"Find out who's in that cruiser and let them know what's going on," Duncan told her just as his phone dinged with a text. "Never mind. It's Woodrow Leonard and Ronnie Bishop. They were on their way back from your place."

That explained how they'd gotten there so fast. It would have put them miles closer since her house was only an eight-minute or so drive from here. And that was a reminder they were already out of time for finding Molly. Of course, the deadline might not mean anything since it could have simply been part of the ruse to get them here, but Duncan apparently wasn't going to take the risk that those ten minutes had been part of the ploy.

"Joelle, text Woodrow or Ronnie and tell them to cuff Hamlin and take his gun," Duncan instructed. "Tell them to be careful and watch for gunmen. Slater, drive closer to the house."

She typed out the text, but Joelle also continued to glance around at their surroundings. Specifically, looking for any signs they were about to be shot at. But no bullets came.

Not yet, anyway.

Slater went slow, no doubt doing his own checking, and he finally came to a stop in the circular drive in front of the house. He positioned the cruiser close to the porch steps but still had a good view of the barn. Of course, that meant any gunman would have a view of them, too.

"Woodrow and Ronnie will deal with Hamlin," Joelle relayed after she got a response from Ronnie. "They'll cuff Hamlin, put him in the back of the cruiser and drive closer to assist."

"Good," Duncan muttered, and he turned to her. "You're staying put. I'm going inside the house to look around."

Oh, that gave her a nasty jolt of fear. "You're not going in there alone."

Duncan's mouth tightened, and she saw the debate in his eyes. "I want Slater to stay here with you in case you're attacked again."

She shook her head. "You're just as likely to be attacked in the house. Slater can go with you, and I can crawl over the seat and get behind the wheel." Her baby bump wasn't so big, not yet anyway, to prevent her from doing that. "Then, I can move the cruiser if necessary."

Joelle didn't want to think of what might make that necessary, but it would almost certainly mean some kind of attack. Maybe a firebomb to the house. But if that happened, she wouldn't be driving away unless Duncan and Slater were out of harm's way and with her.

The debate in Duncan's eyes continued a moment longer, and when he cursed, she knew he'd made his decision. So did Slater. They both reached for their doors.

"Don't get out of the cruiser," Duncan warned her one last time. He looked as if he wanted to add more, so much more, but thankfully he didn't. Now wasn't the time to bring up anything about "if the worst happens."

"Find Molly," Joelle said as they exited the cruiser.

The moment the doors were shut, she climbed over the seat and got behind the wheel while she continued to keep watch. Behind her, she saw Woodrow and Ronnie's cruiser pull to a stop, and in the distance, she heard yet more sirens. More vehicles, too, and Joelle spotted Slater's ranch hands as they arrived. Good. The more, the better.

But "more" didn't help Slater and Duncan right now.

Joelle quickly lost sight of them after Slater unlocked the front door and they hurried into the house. She could imagine, though, that they would immediately start the room-to-room search. It was a big house, and that meant there were plenty of places to check.

Plenty of places for a killer to hide, too.

Added to that, the house didn't have an open floor plan so Duncan and Slater wouldn't be able to do a quick visual sweep to determine if anyone was there. It'd be a slow process, searching through all eight rooms on the bottom floor before going to the second floor and then likely the attic if there was no sign of Molly before then.

She purposely didn't watch the time because she didn't want to mark off the seconds and minutes of the search for Molly. That wouldn't help her stay focused. Just the opposite. She didn't want to think of the extreme danger Duncan and her brother were in. Molly, too.

The baby stirred, a reminder of why she had to stay safe. It was also a reminder of Duncan. For the past five months, she'd worked so hard to keep her distance from him. Worked hard not to feel anything. Because those kinds of feelings also deepened the guilt and grief. But it was impossible to keep him out of her thoughts when they were thrown together like this. The closeness and the danger were breaking down barriers she'd fought to keep in place.

She forced all of that aside for now and tried to get a glimpse of the upstairs windows, to see if Duncan and Slater had made it to the second floor. It was impossible, though, with the way Slater had parked. The eaves of the porch blocked her view.

Another cruiser pulled in behind the others, and her phone dinged with a text. From Luca. We're coming closer , he messaged.

Hamlin is cuffed in the cruiser. Woodrow, Ronnie and I are going to check the barns and the other outbuildings. David will be here any minute now to help .

Deputy David Morales who normally worked the swing shift. Obviously, he'd been called in, and he would probably have his usual partner with him, Deputy Sonya Grover. Since Sonya and Molly were also friends, the woman would have insisted on coming to help.

All possible help would be needed since in addition to the big barn adjacent to the house, there were two smaller barns farther away and four other smaller outbuildings scattered around the grounds. There was even a fishing cabin on the banks of the creek that snaked through the ranch.

Joelle responded to let Luca know that she understood the plan, and she watched as they sprang into action. Not just the two cruisers but the three ranch hands from Slater's ranch. They didn't park near her, though, but rather between the house and the barn, and soon the deputies and hands began to pour from their vehicles. That didn't make her breathe easier, though.

It just meant a gunman would have more targets.

Her phone dinged again, and the relief washed over her when she saw it was from Duncan.

First and second floors cleared. Molly's not there. Heading into the attic now.

That rid her of any relief she'd just gotten. Yes, Duncan and her brother were still safe, there was no gunfire, but Molly wasn't there. It sickened Joelle to think of where the woman could be. And if she'd been hurt or worse. Now Duncan and Slater would have to basically climb a ladder to get into the attic, and there could be a gunman waiting for them.

She caught some movement from the corner of her eye and turned to the side of the house that was on the opposite side of the barn. Joelle immediately saw the white rectangular spots on the ground. Not the lingering morning mist. These appeared to be sheets of paper.

Joelle didn't want to move too far from the front door in case Slater and Duncan had to come running out, but she backed up the cruiser, keeping close to the porch so she could have a better look. Definitely paper and not some kind of explosives. She inched the cruiser back even farther, and she looked down.

Photos.

Four of them.

And her heart skipped a beat. Because they were pictures of her father. Not crime scene photos, either. These had been taken just as the blood had started to seep out from beneath his fallen lifeless body.

Oh, mercy.

The killer had taken these. And had left them for her to see.

Joelle's gaze immediately fired around. Just as there was a blur of motion. A man came charging at the window of the cruiser. Since he was wearing jeans and a gray work shirt, at first she thought it was one of the ranch hands or a deputy.

It wasn't.

She had a split second to realize this wasn't someone she knew, and she drew her gun. Too late, though. The man had a gun rigged with a silencer, and he immediately jammed it against the window.

And he fired.

The point-blank shot blasted through the cruiser, deafening Joelle and creating a half dollar-sized hole in the bullet resistant glass. The pain shot through her head and quadrupled when he fired another shot. Then, another.

For a horrifying moment, she thought she'd been hit. But no. He wasn't aiming at her. He was tearing the glass apart so he could get to her.

He managed it, too.

She turned her gun toward him, ready to fire, but his fist came through the hole, and he knocked her gun away. In the same motion, he unlocked her door from the inside and opened it, dragging her out of the cruiser.

The pain was still ramming into her head and ears, but Joelle didn't allow that to make her forget her training. She had to protect herself. She had to protect her daughter so she tried to ram the heel of her hand into his throat.

He dodged the blow, and before she could try to deliver another one, he grabbed her hair, dragging her in front of him.

"Stay back or I'll kill her," the man snarled.

That's when she realized Luca, Woodrow and two of the ranch hands had their weapons trained on her attacker. There was no sign of Duncan or Slater, but she figured they were racing out of the attic to the sound of that gunfire. Yes, the gunman had used a silencer, but the shots had still made some sounds that cops would have recognized. Added to that, there'd been the breaking glass. That would have alerted them, too.

"Let her go," Luca demanded.

"Not a chance," her attacker growled, and he began to walk backward with her.

He was pulling her hair hard, causing more pain to shoot through her, but Joelle was gearing up to start fighting him. He stopped her with a single sentence.

"Don't do anything stupid to get your kid hurt," he whispered right against her ear.

She didn't pivot and try to throw the punch she'd been planning. Nor did she attempt a kick. Joelle froze for a moment. Her baby. He was threatening to hurt her baby. And he could do it. That's why he'd said it, and he likely thought it was cause her to give up.

It wouldn't.

No way was she going to let her baby be at the mercy of this SOB. If he managed to get her away from the ranch, then heaven knew where he'd take her. And what he'd do to her and her precious child.

Joelle braced herself and got ready to do what she had to do.

Fight.