The Marshal's Hostage - By Delores Fossen Page 0,64

you want from me?” Joelle managed to ask, despite the arm clamped around her throat.

The guy didn’t answer. He just continued to move backward, dragging Joelle right along with him.

Dallas hadn’t thought things could get much worse, but the man pushed aside one of the tree limbs and stepped back onto one of the many ranch trails that snaked through the property. Normally, there would have been nothing on this particular trail—it was used to move equipment in and out of the adjacent pasture.

But there was a truck parked there now.

Joelle’s eyes widened when she spotted the vehicle, and she frantically started shaking her head. She didn’t have to say it aloud, but Dallas knew if this man managed to get her into that truck, he would have a much better chance of escaping with her.

That couldn’t happen.

Dallas moved forward and tried to figure out the best way to stop this. He couldn’t lunge for Joelle because her captor had a gun aimed right at her. But obviously the guy hadn’t wanted her dead or she already would be. He would have shot her rather than grab her.

That took Dallas’s heart past his knees and to the ground. He couldn’t lose Joelle. Not again and not like this.

“Whatever you want from her,” Dallas bargained with the guy, “use me to get it instead. I’m sure Owen wants me dead anyway.”

The guy didn’t even react to that. He just kept backing up until he reached the truck.

Dallas waited, watched, because the man would have to reach behind him and open the door if he wanted to get Joelle inside the cab of the truck. For that to happen, he’d have to let go of the chokehold unless the moron was stupid enough to use his right hand, where he held the gun.

Either way, Dallas had to strike.

He readied himself to ram right into the guy, but Joelle’s kidnapper didn’t ease up on the chokehold and he darn sure didn’t lower the gun.

Behind him, the truck door opened.

And Dallas saw the person inside.

Not behind the wheel, either. After opening the door, the person hurried back across the seat to the passenger’s side where the darkness and the shadows were too murky for Dallas to make out any features. However, he could see the outline of a gun and it was pointed directly at him.

“You’ll get a call in a few minutes,” Joelle’s captor said to Dallas. “You’ll have a chance to save her if you do everything we say.”

There was no safe shot for Dallas to take. Nothing he could do that wouldn’t put Joelle in the direct line of fire. He could only watch as the man dragged her into the truck and slammed the door.

Chapter Eighteen

Everything happened so fast that Joelle didn’t have time to fight back. The hulk of a man threw her into the truck and before she could even bring up her arm to try to slug him, someone else rammed another gun into her rib cage.

And that someone was Sarah Webb.

Joelle wasn’t exactly surprised to see the woman. She wouldn’t have been shocked to see any of their suspects, but knowing her captor’s identity didn’t explain why all of this was happening.

Dallas launched himself at the truck, trying to open the door to get to her, but her captor had already locked it. And he started the engine and sped away.

Joelle’s heart was pounding now because they were clearly taking her to a secondary scene. Away from Dallas. Away from the ranch where his brothers might be able to help her get free.

She started thinking that she was about to die, but that wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the thought of Dallas being killed. And that’s exactly what she thought might happen when the driver calmly lifted his gun and fired.

Joelle heard herself scream because she thought he’d shot at Dallas, but she quickly realized he had fired overhead. The bullet slammed into the roof of the truck.

A warning shot.

Probably to get Dallas to back off.

He didn’t. Dallas latched on to the door handle, but the driver gunned the engine and sped away. She saw Dallas flung to the side. As horrible as that was, at least he hadn’t been shot. But Dallas didn’t stay down. He jumped to his feet and starting running after them.

“He won’t stop,” Joelle mumbled, and she turned toward Sarah. “He won’t stop until he has you behind bars.”

“And that’s why I have you,” Sarah said. Not calmly, either. There was