Undercover Sheriff

by Barbara Phinney

  “How so?”

  “It would have encouraged them to work more with the hope I could earn them more money.” She paused and he glanced over his shoulder to see her dejected look. “Perhaps that’s why Rosa is doing what she’s doing. She only wants to provide for Daniel.”

  “Don’t focus on the betrayal, Rachel. It will eat you alive.”

  She sharpened her attention back on him. “What else can I do?”

  The bag now fitting into the safe, Zane closed it. He straightened and folded his arms. He found himself questioning the wisdom of putting money in the safe, which Wilson had access to, but nothing could be done this late at night. He’d just have to pray that Wilson would not need to get into it. Not every person they threw in jail had valuables to be stored away.

  “You need to focus on the immediate situation,” he told her firmly. “You have Daniel, who needs care. Who’s looking after him right now?”

  “My maid.” Rachel suddenly looked a little lost, an expression he didn’t think he’d ever see on her face. “I expect I’ll have to hire a nanny. He’s a busy toddler.”

  “If you intend to raise him, then eventually you will have to formalize your care of him. And report that Rosa has abandoned him.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” A stricken look dashed across her features. “When should I do that?”

  “I’ll need to check Colorado’s laws, but you probably have a few days, I’m guessing.” He cocked his head. “What does your mother think? Or does she know?”

  “She discovered him tonight.” Rachel offered him a self-deprecating smile, another expression he hadn’t expected from her. “I honestly believed she wouldn’t notice. But Daniel decided to throw a tantrum just after supper when my maid wanted to bathe him. He’s still a bit sick, although he’s better. Regardless, his screams certainly brought Mother into the nursery. She knew Victoria hadn’t asked to have Mitch’s children this weekend, so the nursery was supposed to be empty.”

  “How did she react?”

  “She was horrified, especially when she saw his runny nose. I told her the whole story. All she asked is that he be kept upstairs until he’s healthy.” Rachel smothered a giggle. “The look on her face was priceless. But, in keeping with my mother’s ability to surprise even me, she ordered more milk be purchased because Daniel ‘should be bigger than he is’ as she put it. There are some days I feel my mother is deliberately trying to confuse me.”

  “And what will you tell her tomorrow? Or didn’t you tell her you were going out tonight to pay the ransom with the hopes of ending the whole affair?”

  Rachel shrugged. “I told her, and no, she wasn’t happy that I was going out to pay it. Well, that’s putting it mildly. She was nearly as horrified as when she discovered Daniel. But I did tell her you’d be there, and that actually satisfied her, although she was surprised that you were not Alex. I expect she’ll tell me that she knew Rosa was involved or some other foolishness. Remember, she wants to keep me guessing.”

  “And Daniel? What will you say if he asks for his mother?”

  He should be more worried for Alex, because Daniel was already safe at the Smith home. But even though some people might brush the toddler off as beneath his concern, Zane couldn’t think that.

  Here was a chance to change a child’s life for the better, just as Alex had changed Zane’s life all those years ago by pulling him to safety from that fast-flowing river. One decision, made even hastily, could affect a whole life.

  “What should I do, Zane?”

  His brows shot up. Was she really asking him for advice? When she saw his reaction, she stiffened and turned toward the coat rack. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you with that question.”

  “No. You’re feeling betrayed and uncertain of the right path to take. I am the right person to ask. I was betrayed, too.”

  She looked over at him, a question on her face. “By whom?”

  “By the mayor who sent that telegram, and by my deputy. I can’t prove it, but I believe the mayor’s son stole the tax money I had collected, then his father bribed my deputy to plant some of it on me so that I would be ousted before I could catch the real culprit. However, I can’t prove it.”

  “How would he do that?”

  “I haven’t got it all figured out yet, but the deputy had the safe’s combination, and there were some other things that happened to make me suspect the mayor’s son had come to the sheriff’s office the day the money went missing. I knew I was closing in on the truth when ‘evidence’ was suddenly found that incriminated me. You see, the mayor’s son has some bad habits that cost him money and I know the deputy has wanted my job for a long time. The mayor would do anything to save his family from scandal.”

  Rachel gasped softly. “You were framed? Why didn’t you say this before? Mayor Wilson needs to be told. Were you charged?”

  “No. My mayor said if I resigned, he’d overlook everything and get the deputy to do the same. Either way it went, I’d be run out of town. That same day, Deputy Wilson sent a telegram asking me if I’d seen Alex, because he’d found a letter I’d written in Alex’s desk here.” Zane patted the top surface of the desk in front of him. “I no longer cared about my job. Alex was missing and that meant more to me. I booked a seat on the first train and came straight here.”

  The frustrations of the night, exacerbated by his fear for Alex, weighed down on his shoulders like a heavy sack. It might seem as though they were closer to saving Alex, what with Rosa appearing, but in reality, they weren’t. They could only speculate that Rosa had hidden Alex somewhere close to White Horse Bluff. The whole area around Castle Rock, though—as he had learned from studying Rachel’s map—was pockmarked with legal and illegal mines, some still used, some abandoned. Alex could be in any one of them. Or Rosa could be holding him in town. A prostitute wandering the streets at night wouldn’t be a surprise to any person out that late. And Castle Rock, being bigger than Proud Bend, probably had plenty of places to hide a man, especially if he was gagged and bound.

  What Zane needed was a strong lead. He’d thought he could follow whoever took the note, but leaving Rachel up on that bluff just wasn’t an option. When Rosa had melted into the night, leaving no trace as to which direction she’d gone, he didn’t dare search farther.

  Or was he too lily-livered and just using Rachel as an excuse? Had the fight gone out of him? Caring for Alex was one thing, but doing something about it was another. Yet, instead of tearing the countryside apart looking for Alex, here he was, sitting in the sheriff’s office, chatting with Rachel.

  Zane sagged. Yeah, he’d lost his fight.

  That truth squeezed his heart as he stood. “It’s time to get you home before the men in the saloon call it a night. Trust me, you don’t need me protecting you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rachel felt her heart squeeze at the bitter note in Zane’s voice. Did he really think he was no good as a protector?

  Did she even believe what he’d said about being framed? It was plausible. More than plausible. Sheriffs sometimes collected taxes, and, if she’d learned anything about men and money in the last few months, it was that when you put the two together, it could make for ever-increasing greed. Father and Clyde had conspired together against people like Mitch, and also against each other, even to the extent of Clyde attempting a double murder.

  If such greed could happen so easily here, it could happen anywhere, even in that distant town of Canaan.

  Rachel stepped close to Zane. “I’m sorry for what has happened to you.” She wanted to add that he still had fight in him, but she wasn’t sure he had that. The night was waning, and so was their strength. Perhaps sleep was needed to rejuvenate the fight.

  Or maybe there really wasn’t any left. She laid a hand on his as it sat on the desk beside his leg. “D
on’t let your town’s betrayal eat you alive, either.”

  He didn’t move his hand away. “It’s too late for that.”

  She grimaced. What more could she say? She touted herself as a missionary to the soiled doves of Proud Bend, claiming compassion and understanding, but suddenly she found herself without a decent word of comfort. What good was she?

  It was just as well. She shouldn’t be dillydallying around here, anyway. She’d only ever wanted to earn those women’s trust, and if they learned she’d spent the evening with the sheriff, especially alone in his office, who could say what would happen to that trust?

  Had she ever had it? She’d thought she had with Rosa, but even that didn’t appear so. Carefully and slowly, she withdrew her hand and turned away, grabbing her coat and quickly shrugging it on. “Yes, I think I will call it a night. But perhaps I will walk the mare home. I’ve had quite enough riding for the evening.”

  Outside a minute later, Zane tied one mare to the other, and, with Rachel walking beside him, he led the pair of piebalds toward the Smith stables. They said nothing the whole way, and Rachel knew their thoughts were too heavy to be spoken. As they reached the front door, she stopped, looked up into his somber expression and bade him good-night.

  * * *

  Zane watched Rachel disappear into the house. A moment later, the young footman slipped outside to extinguish the lantern above the door. The poor man had to wait up each night that Rachel worked.

  Leading the horses into the stable, Zane glanced around, found no stable boy or groom awake, so he quickly removed the tack and gave the animals a hasty brush-down. Thankfully, their stalls were warm and dry, and the reassuring scents of hay, horseflesh and leather, along with the mindless task of combing, calmed his edgy thoughts. Ensuring the mares had water, he suppressed a heavy yawn and left to return to the sheriff’s office. No doubt his deputy would soon be filling up the cells with men who needed to sleep the night off.

  Like Rachel, he was chilled to the bone and grateful for the hot stove in his office. Zane took a moment to drop into his chair and ease it back to revel in the warmth. He should have stayed out all night and searched for Rosa and Alex, but he would not risk Rachel’s safety. Alex would agree, especially considering the bag of money.

  Zane opened his eyes and let them stray to the tightly locked safe. Had she really taken her own money to pay the ransom? Was she that naive to think the nightmare would end so simply? Or was she so desperate she’d disregarded all logic? He didn’t know her well enough to say, and his first impression of her was hardly stellar.

  Surely someone in this town could vouch for her? Or even explain why she did what she did. That bit of information would go a long way to figuring out the woman. All he could tell right now was that she wore a mask of calmness and confidence. But it was only a mask, and he wanted to know exactly why.

  Concern. Guilt and fear. Those words popped into his head. But why would Rachel feel those things? Because of her friend, Bea?

  Such questions would have to wait, he decided, hearing his deputy approach with a boisterous drunk.

  Once the man was incarcerated, Deputy Wilson turned to Zane. “Sheriff, you don’t need to stay.”

  “I know,” Zane answered, thankful that the man still didn’t know he was not Alex. “Where is the file on Rosa Carrera?”

  Wilson found it on his desk. Zane had already read through it once but wanted to take it back to his brother’s room. There had to be something he’d missed. Alex was a good investigator. Surely he’d have guessed that Rosa had staged her own disappearance, possibly with the assistance of Rachel and with the intention of kidnapping Alex.

  He weighed the file Wilson handed him. “It’s bigger than I remember. Did you add something to it?”

  “I did. I put in the notes I’d made when you disappeared, though I imagine you can scrap them now. You never did tell me where you went, you know.” Wilson’s tone turned petulant. “I ought to be told.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  Wilson waited, brows lifted. For a moment, Zane wondered why the man’s own father had not yet taken him into his confidence. Was the older Wilson more trustworthy than Zane expected?

  “I forgot to tell you,” his deputy added, “I sent a telegram to your brother while you were gone, asking him if you’d shown up there. I guess I’ll have to telegraph him back to let him know you’ve returned.”

  “I’ll take care of that. We write frequently.”

  Wilson shrugged and finished logging in the drunk. Thankfully, he had no valuables to lock up. Zane opened Rosa’s file. “I need the file on Miss Smith’s assault, too.”

  Looking up, Wilson asked, “When Rosa first disappeared, you dug that file out. Do you still think there’s a connection?”

  “Yes.” Zane felt his gut clench. So Alex had also believed they were related. “I want that file on Liza Carrera’s murder, too.” He’d already looked at all these once, but in the meantime, the deputy had refiled them.

  “There’s not much in it,” Wilson warned testily. “She’s been dead a long time, and Rosa’s gone and she ain’t coming back, either. It happens sometimes. We may as well close Rosa’s file, just like Liza’s.”

  “Are you saying Rosa has been murdered like her mother?”

  Wilson gaped at him. “Is that why you think they’re connected?”

  “I don’t know. But right now, I need to read over everything again.” He stood wearily. “I’ll have them back Monday morning. Good night.”

  * * *

  The next morning, the weather cloudy with tiny grains of snow drifting down, Zane made his way into Proud Bend’s only church. It would be, thankfully, a quiet day, with no businesses open and those in the cells sleeping until they were sent packing with a fine and a reprimand. Deputy Wilson could handle those tasks, having bedded down in the back of the office. Zane was glad for the easy schedule. It allowed him time for worship. And one small task at the same time.

  Before he found a seat, he noticed the owner of the general store making his way to a pew on the other side. He’d exchanged greetings with the man on Friday.

  Taking the unexpected opportunity, Zane doffed his hat and approached him. “Good day, sir, may I ask you about your merchandise?”

  The man allowed his wife to enter the pew as he faced Zane. “Certainly, Sheriff. Are you looking for something in particular? I’m open at eight tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t want to purchase anything, but want to know if you have any postcards of Castle Rock.”

  The man shook his head, as if confused. “Why would I have postcards of another town? I carry a small selection of humorous ones, and ones of the bandstand. I’m afraid the townsfolk around here don’t have much use for them. If you want one of Castle Rock, you’ll have to see the printer down there. I hear his shop is very close to the rock itself. I used his services to print out the postcards of the bandstand. The others I purchased from a printer in Denver.”

  “What is his business’s name?”

  “I’d have to check my records, but if you want more information, try the Recording Office. It’s supposed to be located in the county seat, but it’s here in Proud Bend until a proper office can be built for it. I do know that one of the men working there is from Castle Rock, and they might have maps to help you locate the printer. Also, there’s a young woman there, Miss Walsh, who is excellent at reading a map.”

  Zane made a mental note to see them both in the morning. “Thank you.” After nodding to the man’s wife, Zane found a seat on the opposite side at the back of the small church and waited for the service to begin. And to see when Rachel arrived. She claimed she was faithful in her ministry, working for the glory of the Lord. Would she be there today?

  Shortly after that very thought, Rachel and her mother arrived. Smiling at her fellow
congregants, she made her way to the front. Zane looked away, unwilling to catch her eye.

  When the service ended, Zane lingered in his pew, watching Rachel as she exited. She hadn’t acknowledged him during the greeting time, mostly because he’d sat in the back, but now, as she slipped into the aisle, she stole a furtive look at him.

  He scowled as unwanted heat rose into his neck. He needed to know if he could trust Rachel. Alex’s safety could hinge on it. As the stragglers finally left, Zane made his way to the door. Pastor Wyseman was busy shaking the hand of the last parishioner and finally looked up at Zane.

  “Sheriff, it’s good to see you back. When Rachel asked me to pray for your safety, I—” He reached out his hand, but stopped and then started again, slower this time as he studied Zane. “I... I asked our Bible study groups to also pray.”

  Zane glanced around before shaking the minister’s hand. The man’s expression was troubled, leaving Zane with an uncomfortable lump in his throat. It was one thing to remain undercover, posing as his twin for the regular folk of Proud Bend, but another to keep up the pretense for this man of God.

  Zane hadn’t even liked keeping his true identity from Deputy Wilson, but until he could prove without a doubt why the young man had handled the investigation into Alex’s disappearance so ineptly, and why his own father had chosen not to trust the young man, he wasn’t about to reveal who he was. Not when back in Canaan his own deputy was ensconced as temporary sheriff, awaiting a shoo-in election with the mayor’s endorsement to confirm his appointment.

  Pastor Wyseman was still frowning. “How are you, Sheriff? You look tired this morning. Pale, almost.”

  “It was a late night. We had several ‘guests’ arrive.”