Undercover Sheriff

by Barbara Phinney

  Shuffling, a scrape, jerked his attention away. Someone was coming. He waited. A grunt on the other side of the brush told him someone found the last few feet of the climb to be tough. Finally, long minutes later, there was a rustle of material as someone stood up on the top of the bluff not ten feet from him.

  A woman.

  She hurried over to the box and lifted the lid and the carpetbag she carried at the same time. She turned at one point to glance around her.

  Rachel?

  Furious, Zane rushed forward and clamped his hand over her mouth while the other arm pinned her close. She fought like a wild animal, but he was stronger. He hauled on the carpetbag to free it from her grip. It fell with a thud to the dirt. He tried to kick it behind the nearest sagebrush, but the bag was heavy and merely rolled once to land just beyond his feet. With a grunt of disgust, he ended up ignoring it before hauling her back to where he’d been hidden. She continued to fight until he pinned her down and whispered harshly in her ear.

  “It’s me, Zane! Stop fighting! I only wanted you to be quiet.”

  * * *

  Rachel stilled, and Zane pulled her farther back behind the shrubs and farther from the box. Without ceremony, he plunked her on the ground and crouched down, separated from her by only inches. Her back was to the box and, immediately, she twisted around.

  “Stay put! Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back.”

  Craning her neck, she followed Zane with her attention. He went to her bag and scooped it up. She let out a gasp when he returned with it and shoved it under the sagebrush next to her.

  “What are you doing? You need to replace that note with the money!”

  “Didn’t anything I said to you stick in your head?” he hissed.

  “Of course it did.”

  “So why did you come?”

  Rachel folded her arms. “I disagree with your methods. I want to pay the ransom.”

  Zane threw up his hands in obvious frustration. “That is the worst idea I have ever heard. Do you want to know why?”

  “Not really.” She glanced away. She was kneeling primly on the dusty rocks behind a large sagebrush shrub, for her skirt hardly allowed anything else. “But I expect you’ll tell me regardless.”

  Zane leaned close to her. “What happened the last time you walked through Proud Bend with a large sum of money?”

  Her lips tightened, and she didn’t answer.

  “Do you know who wrote that ransom note?”

  She turned her head away. “No.”

  “Neither do I. And that makes them all the more dangerous. We don’t know who will meet us here. We don’t know what they’re capable of.”

  “They returned Daniel, so they must have some compassion.”

  “I doubt it. He wasn’t useful to them, so they disposed of him in a way that would be most likely to influence you. Daniel was a tool to them, a means by which to deliver a ransom note.”

  “He wasn’t hurt.”

  “He was hungry and sick and cold and dirty, Rachel!” Zane immediately lowered his voice, knowing how sounds traveled so easily in the cold air. “Paying that ransom encourages them to repeat the lucrative plan again.”

  “So you’d rather let Alex and Rosa die?”

  “If they’re still alive at this point, then it’s in the kidnappers’ best interest to keep them that way. Look, I’m not going to argue with you up here. If those kidnappers want their ransom, then they have no reason to harm Alex or Rosa. They’ll figure out some way to prove they are still alive and then demand their money again. But give it to them tonight, and it’s quite likely they will kill their hostages and disappear. If we do this my way, there’s a better chance of getting Alex and Rosa back alive.”

  Her heart chilled. Zane looked down at her and his voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

  Rachel wet her lips. Up here, miles from home, waiting for a kidnapper or two or three, she didn’t want to reveal that she didn’t trust Zane for fear that he’d abandon her in disgust. She was tough, she liked to think, but she didn’t want to be left here alone. Not after being reminded of that terrible assault five years ago.

  “It’s all right if you don’t trust me,” he said, still whispering. He leaned closer. “But it’s not all right to be wandering the countryside with a large sum of money. I can’t do my job if I have to be watching out for you all the time.”

  “I had an escort five years ago. He nearly died.”

  “I won’t die. I know how to take care of myself.”

  His voice might have been soft, but it was rich with confidence. Rachel swallowed. She’d always expected God to look after her when she worked for Him.

  Was she doing that now? Or by paying the ransom, was she merely displaying her fear? Had God given her Zane tonight to ensure her safety so he could tell her His will and escort her back to town? She shut her eyes to the unwelcomed indecision waffling through her.

  “Rachel, listen to me—”

  He cut off his own words and jerked up his head. Rachel, hearing the scrape herself, spun. Zane pinned her down with one strong arm, no doubt wanting her to keep their location a secret.

  As much as she hated the decision Zane had made, she saw the logic in it. She shut her eyes a moment and prayed. Lord, let this be over right now.

  Despite it all, Rachel swallowed and fought against her short, nervous breaths. Her heart pounded in her throat. She felt Zane shift closer, continuing to prove that even when it came to something as simple as holding still, he didn’t trust her.

  He shouldn’t. If anything happened to Rosa and Alex, she would be to blame and she could trace that blame for tonight all the way back seven years to Bea’s death. She should have insisted Bea take a loan to help her family.

  So much regret. She should have realized she wasn’t a banker with the knowledge and experience in investments, foolishly insisting she could make money for those women. She should have forced Liza to go to the sheriff if she’d known who’d robbed and beaten Rachel and her escort almost to death.

  The cold air stung Rachel’s eyes. She should have insisted Rosa move out of the crib she called home the minute she had told Rachel she wanted to know more about Jesus. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Rosa had disappeared so quickly after leaving her awful trade.

  Rachel swallowed and blinked. Beside her, Zane shot her a fast look, the expression full of concern. But was that also suspicion in his eyes?

  What if something happened to them tonight? How could they save Rosa and Alex then? Rachel felt her hand start to reach for him, to both reassure him and calm her racing heart. Tears welled further in her eyes, and she resisted both the urge to sniff and take hold of Zane, forcing her hands into her lap as she knelt behind the sagebrush, hating that she couldn’t see what was going on beyond their hiding place.

  Zane patted the air between them and pointed to her. He wanted her to stay still. He then took two of his fingers and pointed them at his eyes and then at the box. Was he going to move so as to see whoever had arrived? Was that what his actions meant? Or was she to look at the box?

  Lord, keep him safe.

  The urgency of that need struck Rachel. She didn’t want anything to happen to Zane, and nipping at the heels of that realization was that her concern didn’t come from worry for Rosa and Alex’s safety. It was for Zane alone.

  No. She would not allow her suddenly silly heart to rule her. Zane didn’t trust her. He thought of her as a crook, and when this was all over and done with, they would go their separate ways. He’d have no reason to stay—and she wouldn’t want him to. Rachel could hardly help those soiled doves of her town if she was seen sharing affections with a lawman.

  As Zane shifted silently to peer around the brush, she did the same. A figure approached the box. Ra
chel couldn’t make out the person, only that they didn’t seem as tall as she was. But since she towered over most men, it hardly narrowed down the kidnapper’s identity. Even the coat revealed nothing, as those long dusters were designed to keep a person warm from top to bottom.

  A small hand reached out and opened the box. The sharp sound of exasperation cut the still air.

  Slamming the lid, the person straightened and the collar of the full-length duster fell back. With a gasp, Rachel recognized the slight frame and the wide, fancy skirt that poked out of the duster as the woman’s hands dropped. A skirt saved for working nights. Her hair fell forward, loose and long, its color as black as Rachel had always known it to be.

  Rosa Carrera!

  Chapter Eleven

  Rosa? Why was she there? Rachel automatically opened her mouth, but Zane’s hand descended on it, just as his other gripped her shoulder to still her movements.

  As quickly as Rosa appeared, she grabbed the note and disappeared again. Only after a few seconds did Zane remove his hand from Rachel’s mouth. She turned to him, ready to tell him she was going after her friend, but Zane’s finger pressed against her lips. He shook his head violently. Although the night was deep and dark, she could see his fierce expression warning her to say and do nothing.

  What did Zane expect would happen? Something awful?

  Zane slipped around the sagebrush and crept away. Rachel’s heart pounded like horses’ hooves at full gallop, but she knew that in her narrow skirt, she could never catch either of them. Even Rosa’s skirt allowed freer movement. The woman could easily outrun Rachel.

  Instead, Rachel sank against the bristly bush, still shocked at what she’d just witnessed. Rosa? How was it possible? She’d been kidnapped, hadn’t she? Alex had not been able to find any trace of her or her son, nor any indication she’d left of her own accord. The ransom note mentioned her. So how could she be the one who’d come to collect the ransom?

  Rachel leaned forward, barely hearing over her thrumming heart the sounds of Zane scrambling down the side of the hill after Rosa. She bit her lip. What would he do if he caught her? It didn’t take a genius to realize that Zane didn’t care to be made a fool of.

  Praying for wisdom, Rachel stood. Uncharacteristic indecision floated through her and for several minutes she stood, listening to the chase sounds as they carried through the cool night.

  Then they died off. Rachel swallowed. When scraping noises drew her attention again to the edge, she hurried over in time to see Zane climb back up. She held out her hand to help him the last few feet.

  He refused it, pulling himself up with the ease of a man fit for any duty. She turned to watch him dust off, realizing then that he’d shucked his coat before starting his pursuit. She retrieved it for him. “You didn’t catch her?”

  “No.” His tone was sharp. “Like whoever dropped Daniel off, she disappeared too quickly. Perhaps because they were the same person?”

  Rachel recoiled. “Are you thinking Rosa abandoned her own son?” She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”

  “Was that Rosa who just retrieved the paper?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then I absolutely believe she abandoned her own son.”

  “Zane, I don’t believe this, not at all. There was no evidence.”

  “We just saw the evidence. I know what we saw last night, too. Whoever dropped off Daniel scurried away pretty quickly. Rosa did just that, and how many people would know where to drop Daniel off? How many people could keep him quiet right up until that moment? And who else would know about the ransom note? Who else would want to see Daniel safe in all of this?”

  “A short time ago you said Daniel was merely a tool.”

  “That’s exactly what he was, with Rosa as the kidnapper, using her own son as a courier. Of course she’d want him safe for that.”

  Rachel pressed her hands to her mouth and cheeks. This was insane, impossible. “But the note! It mentioned both Rosa and Alex!”

  “And was poorly written, too. You’ve been ministering to those women, giving them tracts. I saw one of them. They are designed for people with a minimal reading ability. Were you teaching Rosa to read and write, too?”

  “Of course. I’d like her to be able to read the Bible someday.”

  Zane leaned forward. “So it’s possible she wrote that note. Does she have that much skill?”

  “I—I don’t know. I only glanced at the note. I had just begun to teach her basic writing.” Rachel rubbed her arms. Rosa had been showing the promise of being a fast learner. Yes, there was a definite possibility she could have managed a simple note, but there were many people who could write at that poor level.

  She didn’t want to point that out to Zane. He probably knew it, anyway.

  Zane retrieved her carpetbag. “We’re leaving. Even though Rosa is involved, she might not be alone in this. I don’t want to be around if that partner decides to show up, especially after not getting the money they demanded.”

  “So you don’t think she’s responsible?”

  “Oh, she’s responsible, Rachel. And when I find her, she’ll go before the judge for it. But she must have help. Alex is as big as I am, and as well trained. Even if a thin woman such as Rosa could overpower him using the element of surprise, she wouldn’t be able to drag him to a hideout by herself.” He grabbed her upper arm.

  Knowing what he planned, Rachel hiked up her skirt and allowed him to propel her along the trail that led down the easy slope at the back of the bluff.

  “I can’t believe this!” she said as the trail smoothed out and Zane released her arm. “It’s like a nightmare where everything goes wrong.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “On Mother’s mare.”

  “Where is it?”

  Rachel indicated down to where the trail met the road into Proud Bend. “There.”

  He continued on for a moment, then stopped and looked down at her. She waited for him to comment, but he ground his heel into the dirt and walked down the bare, open trail toward her piebald. Rachel had given him her own horse and she’d patted him once to reassure him as she’d passed him on her trip up to the bluff. Again, Zane tossed a curious look over his shoulder at her.

  Rachel stood and watched him. “What is it, Zane?”

  “Nothing.”

  She hurried up to him and caught his sleeve. “No, something is bothering you. What is it?”

  He stopped. Holding her breath, Rachel waited for him to do something, say something. Finally, he pivoted. “Fine. You want to know what’s bothering me? I’ll tell you. The bartender at the saloon suggested to me that you arranged to be robbed five years ago. He suggested you didn’t get any allowance from your father and this way, you could have the money you wanted and not worry about paying it back.” He held up his hand as she began to protest. “It makes me wonder if you aren’t trying the same thing again. This time with Rosa to help you. Anyone with any basic education could have written that note.”

  “And Alex? Did I manage to kidnap him, too?”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t take much strength to surprise a person. And there are two of you to carry him.”

  She pointed to the carpetbag Zane carried. “I used my own money!”

  “Your bank’s money.”

  “No! My own money.” She shook her head, still shocked by his accusations. “You think I would steal from the bank—simply walk in and demand cash from the till—to spend the money on a ransom?” she questioned. “That’s got to be the silliest notion ever.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “You’re saying I am in league with Rosa?”

  Arms folded, Zane didn’t answer. Truly miffed and with arched brows, Rachel also folded her arms. Her breath streamed out in a long, frosty sigh. “So that’s it, is it? You speak to
one man and appear to know my whole life? You didn’t think to confirm this with me? You think I stole the money five years ago. You also seem to think I own the bank, and can just waltz in there to take some of the money.” Before he could answer, she continued, “Of course, if you’d asked me, I would have told you the truth. I did neither of those things.”

  “And five years ago? Did you arrange your own assault?”

  “No!”

  “Did your father withhold money from you?”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “Yes. He often did. My father wanted me to marry Clyde Abernathy, hoping to control all the shares in the bank. All the while, Clyde was trying to connive his way into full ownership, too. In the end, they both lost, and my mother became the sole owner of the bank.”

  Rachel threw up her hands and let out a short laugh. “Another of life’s great ironies, because she has the least head in Proud Bend for business and has had to leave the care and control of the bank to its manager.”

  Despite the time of night, Rachel continued to laugh. She was freezing cold and bone tired and stunned by all that had happened, but the look of shock on Zane’s features was nothing short of hilarious.

  “Yes, my mother is the owner of the bank—not me. And while my mission work often makes her uncomfortable, she still supports me.” Rachel paused. “Perhaps it was because of what happened to my friend, Bea. It made Mother realize life isn’t always fair.” Even now, recalling Bea made Rachel’s words catch in her throat. “Mother was horrified when she learned that Bea had taken her life, but surprisingly compassionate after that. She even defended me when Father said he wanted me to marry Clyde. I can’t help but wonder if Mother has made the connection between soiled doves and brides of convenience, of which my mother was one, believe it or not.”

  “She was a bride of convenience?”