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Undercover Sheriff

Page 15

by Barbara Phinney


  She pursed her lips and sat taller. Oh, Zane was a good investigator, asking questions calmly and listening carefully, all the while instilling confidence in his audience. She could appreciate that, but that was where her admiration ended. He still thought she’d stolen the money. How was she ever going to persuade him otherwise?

  “That’s what I’ve been told,” Mrs. Turcot said. “You’ve read the file on Liza. What was on her person when she was found?”

  “Nothing. Just her clothes.” Zane looked at Rachel. “I’ve read the file and it says nothing about Robert’s words. Do you know if your old sheriff questioned any of the other soiled doves?”

  “The file didn’t say?” Rachel sighed. “That sheriff wasn’t the most trustworthy. Some of the soiled doves said he demanded money to look the other way. But, as far as I know, he didn’t question them. And if he had, I think I would have heard the complaints from the women.”

  “What about Liza’s regular customers?” Zane asked Rachel. “Do you know if he spoke to them?”

  “He told me that Liza knew a lot of men, so it would be pointless to track down each of them,” Rachel answered. “It’s hard to believe he’d say that when a woman had been murdered.”

  * * *

  Zane closed his notebook. As he tucked it away, he tilted his head and asked Rachel, “So you didn’t know anything about what Robert said?” His words held a small accusatory edge.

  Mrs. Turcot spoke. “Apart from my husband and the sheriff, no one else knew.”

  Rachel offered him a short shrug. “I was recuperating, also, though I wasn’t as bad as Robert. I tried once to talk to him about it, but he got belligerent. I really hadn’t thought that Mrs. Turcot could shed some light on our attack, so I never asked. Anyway, by the time I was up for visiting, the trail had gone cold and the soiled doves were keeping to themselves. Robert was very upset about it, too, and shortly after he got better, he left.”

  Zane stood. “Thank you, Mr. Turcot, Mrs. Turcot, for both lunch and the answers.”

  Everyone rose. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be more helpful,” Mr. Turcot said.

  “You’ve done well for the amount of time that has passed. If you think of anything more, please let me know. I would like to hear it.”

  Mrs. Turcot turned to Rachel. “Dear, why don’t you see the sheriff to the door? I want to check on both the kitchen and Jake.”

  Rachel slid her chair slowly toward the table, looking everywhere but at Zane. When he indicated with his hand that she should go first, she swept from the room. At the front door, she threw it open. A gust of icy wind barreled in. Zane leaned closer to her to retrieve his Stetson from where Rachel had set it on the rack.

  She stepped in front of the door. He donned his hat, saying, “You’re letting out all the heat, Rachel.”

  Lips pursed, Rachel directed Zane out the door and shut it behind her. She pinned him with a sharp look. “You still don’t trust me, do you? You talked to Pastor Wyseman, you’ve interviewed the closest you have to eye witnesses, you’ve heard my plea for you to believe me, but you still don’t. Why?”

  “I’m trained to question everything that’s said. You take unnecessary risks and I can’t help but wonder why.”

  “Those women need me. They need help!”

  “It’s been my experience that people aren’t nice, Rachel. They don’t care back. They’re out for themselves, and if that means stepping over people who can’t defend themselves, so be it.”

  Rachel glared at him. “What are you talking about? Who have I stepped over?”

  He sighed. “You haven’t stepped over anyone. But clearly, those women will do it to you if you don’t watch it. I can’t believe that you’re so naive that you wouldn’t know this, or that Pastor Wyseman is also so naive as to think that you can save those women and God will take care of you along the way. I know you’re an intelligent woman, so it’s hard to believe you could be so blind. It makes me wonder what your true motivation is.”

  “My true motivation?” An understanding dawned on her. “You’re not talking about my ministry, are you? You’re warning me for some reason.”

  “No, I’m not, and if you think those women wouldn’t betray you in a heartbeat, you’re sadly mistaken. Look what Rosa has already done, and we have just learned that her mother was there the night you were attacked.”

  “That may not be true, Zane. Robert was badly injured. We can’t say for sure why he was calling out Liza’s name.”

  “I doubt that he was recalling a time he was chatting with the woman. More likely, he was still reliving the attack, which proves what I just warned you about.”

  Rachel rubbed her arms to warm herself. It was too cold to be standing outside without a jacket, but this conversation was too important to splinter in a quest for outerwear. “Yes, let’s discuss your warning. Do you think that because you were betrayed, you see subterfuge at every turn?”

  “There is subterfuge at every turn. The circumstances around the investigation into Liza’s murder prove it. As sheriff, it’s my job to protect you from whoever has already killed one woman and tried to take two more lives.”

  “If protecting people is so important, then why didn’t you stay and fight in Canaan? That’s what you’re really upset about. You told me you were framed for theft, but where are you now? Here!”

  He stiffened. “My career doesn’t compare to my brother’s life, Rachel.”

  “That’s true, but when this is all over, do you plan to return to Canaan to fight the corruption that ruined your life and put its citizens at risk? Or is Canaan on its own?”

  His lips thinned. Rachel thought she would feel a surge of victory, knowing she’d hit the nail on the head, but there was none. His reaction made it clear to her that Zane wasn’t going back to Canaan. He was going to let the corruption live on. Suddenly, Rachel winced with a pang of sympathy.

  She couldn’t believe he would really do it—abandon the town he had sworn to protect. In the short space of time, a mere few days, she’d seen Zane at work, and hadn’t seen any evidence that he would stand for any corruption. He seemed as honorable as his brother. A person who would fight for those who could not fight for themselves.

  So why walk away from his job, his career, his honor? Something cold sank deep into her stomach and she swallowed. The wind picked up and stung her eyes and chilled her hot cheeks as she realized she knew the answer.

  He still hurt too much.

  Abruptly, the front door swung open, and Mrs. Turcot peered out. “Is there something wrong? Rachel, dear, you shouldn’t stand out here without a jacket. You’ll catch your death.”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Turcot. I won’t be long.”

  “She’s just coming in, ma’am.” Zane said, his voice so low Rachel could barely hear it. “I won’t keep her.”

  When, with a skeptical look, Mrs. Turcot shut the door, Zane leaned in closer. “Nor will I be here long. Because there’s only enough in me to fight for Alex. After this, I’m moving on.”

  He turned on his heel and left her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The fine chicken stew—and it was the best she’d had in a long time—sat like lead in Rachel’s stomach as she approached Alex’s rented room. She needed to talk to Zane, and this late Sunday afternoon, before Mrs. Shrankhof returned and while the other boarders dozed, was probably the best time.

  She found Zane piling the firewood by the back door to the kitchen. His jacket had been tossed aside and he’d already shoved up his long sleeves. Rachel stopped a moment to watch him wipe his brow. He’d been at this task for a while.

  “Mrs. Shrankhof will be impressed,” she said as she approached, keeping her expression calm even while her heart pounded for absolutely no good reason. “You’re leaving a precedence that Alex may not want to live up to.�
��

  Zane kept working. “As long as he’s around to berate me for it,” he answered tersely.

  “And you? Does that mean you’ll stay to hear it?”

  “I told you. I don’t plan to.”

  Disappointment plunged deeper into her chest than she had expected. Surely she wanted him to leave? He’d been a thorn in her side since he’d caught her taking that picture postcard, always ordering her around, always acting like she was the most unwise person in town and, quite frankly, always believing the worst of her.

  He’s hurt. He’s lost. Have compassion. She took a step forward. “You’re a good lawman. It’s possible you might find work here.”

  “Doing what?” Zane strode back to the messy pile in the center of the backyard and refilled his arms. Mrs. Shrankhof’s hens scattered with disgruntled squawks. “Working for Alex? No, thank you.”

  “Why not? Or do you not like taking orders from your brother?”

  “It’s got nothing to do with that. I was a sheriff and that ended poorly. What makes you think I would be happier as a deputy? Besides, I don’t want to be hired because I have some influence with the sheriff. I left that kind of corruption behind.” He dumped his armful of firewood down on the running length that was already waist high.

  “We’re not corrupt here.”

  Although he shot her a skeptical look, he said nothing, rather, he continued piling the wood he’d retrieved.

  “All I’m asking is that you not give up fighting for what’s right. It sounded back there at the Turcots like you’ve just given up on life.”

  “I haven’t.” Having finished with that armload, he retrieved more firewood. “I’m putting all I have into finding Alex. Unless you don’t think that’s important?”

  Her voice went soft. “That’s not fair. Finding Alex is the most important thing right now. It will bring him back and it will lead us to the truth about Rosa.”

  “Why do you think she waited so long to deliver a ransom note? Alex had been missing over a week by the time we found Daniel. Why didn’t Rosa deliver the note the next day?”

  Rachel lifted her shoulders briefly. “That’s a very good question. Perhaps because Daniel got sick? And before that time, she hadn’t figured out a way to deliver her demand?” Her words held a note of reluctant yielding.

  “Perhaps she waited until she thought you were desperate enough to pay handsomely?”

  “I don’t believe she’s that cunning, and there was no evidence she ever returned, no hint that she might have kidnapped Alex.”

  “What hint would there be?”

  “Rosa kept some food hidden in a tin beside her bed. Just some biscuits and such for Daniel mostly. You’d think that keeping both Daniel and Alex, and getting hungry herself, she’d have slipped back to get it. But each time I’ve peeked in her window, hoping to see her back, I’ve noticed that the tin hasn’t moved.”

  “Maybe she emptied it.”

  “Normal people would just take the whole tin.” Rachel paused. “Has anyone else in town complained that food has disappeared? Have any eggs gone missing? Or hens from henhouses?”

  Zane glanced over at Mrs. Shrankhof’s chickens. This time of year, they laid fewer eggs, but his brother’s landlady had not mentioned anything unusual, and he had a feeling the woman would know exactly how many eggs to expect. She probably counted the chickens each night. He hadn’t heard any complaints from other townsfolk, either.

  “She could be getting food from Castle Rock.”

  “I’ve peeked in the window several times. Nothing in her crib looked disturbed,” Rachel said. “It seems an odd way to kidnap someone. I don’t believe she had planned to do so with Alex.”

  “Which means she could be working with someone and they changed the plan.”

  “Which was what?” Rachel sighed and stepped into the weak sunlight in hopes of warming herself. “And how did she avoid drawing attention to herself? In that time, she had to keep Daniel quiet and unnoticed.”

  Zane met her gaze. “I’m afraid that a small urchin like Daniel could blend in just about anywhere. There are plenty of them around and some are employed because they go unnoticed and uncared-for. Think of those who pick pockets, for instance.”

  Rachel shut her eyes. “I can’t even think about how that could be Daniel in a few years. Poor mite.”

  Zane studied her. “Pastor Wyseman said you’ve changed.”

  The odd switch in subject caught her off guard. She bristled. “Changed what?”

  He walked over to the long length and threw down the armful of wood. “Don’t be defensive. I’m talking about your demeanor. He said you had a strong personality, but it’s changed since Rosa disappeared.”

  “He’s mistaken. I’m just as opinionated as ever.”

  Zane’s brows shot up in a knowing manner. “He’s very perceptive. He knew right away I wasn’t Alex.”

  “Really?” Rachel hadn’t thought that Pastor Wyseman knew Alex that well.

  Zane lifted one corner of his mouth. “Imagine that. Pastor Wyseman is as smart as you.”

  Rachel’s lips thinned, but she chose not to speak. Still, her stomach tightened. Yes, she had changed, and it wasn’t for the better. And seeing Rosa last night honestly hurt her. Why would the woman leave without saying goodbye? Had she changed her mind about helping Rachel with her ministry and couldn’t tell her to her face?

  What if she had moved her trade to another town, like Castle Rock, and had kidnapped Alex down there when he had finally found her?

  Rachel stiffened. She shouldn’t allow herself to get bogged down like a carriage wheel in a rut. The other women needed her as much as ever to help them.

  Zane slipped closer to her. “I’m just saying you need to be careful, Rachel.”

  She smiled, trying her best to push the worry behind her. “Where’s the fun in being careful?”

  He didn’t share her attempt at humor. “Is it fun to risk your ministry work by being alone with a lawman?”

  Smile dropping, she hastily glanced around, but the tiny backyard was fenced in on two sides. The front was shielded by the kitchen annex, and Alex’s room filled in the remaining side. No one from the street could see in, and no one in the kitchen was peering out the solitary window, either. She turned back to Zane. Her reputation was safe for the moment. “I came to ask you not to give up.”

  “And who are you to give advice?”

  The walls around them weren’t the only walls she was up against. “I’m someone who works in a ministry that would have any normal person flee like a little girl seeing a spider. You don’t get anywhere in your life if you give up when things get tough.”

  “Then how do you keep going?” He peered intently at her. “What gets you up in the morning, Rachel?”

  She refused to admit her stamina was fading. “Nothing. I wait until the afternoon, usually.”

  Zane didn’t seem impressed with her humor. “You don’t get far in life being insolent, either.”

  “Look, Zane, if you want something, you have to work for it, plain and simple. I want those women to learn to trust God and let go of a profession that will surely drain away their spirit and might even kill them. I’ve seen it happen twice. That’s what gets me out of bed each day. I know that I need to work at my ministry if I want it to succeed. I know I have days where it seems like nothing good happens, but God gives me strength, and on those days when He seems to be looking the other way, I get strength from knowing that in the past, God carried me through, and He will do so again when it gets bad.”

  Her words surprised even her. But she beamed inwardly. Yes, she’d managed to encapsulate exactly how she felt.

  “Maybe I don’t want anything that badly,” he said with a shrug as he returned to the messy pile of wood, “outside of finding Alex,
that is.”

  “And your honor?”

  “I guess I don’t want it badly enough, either.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  He walked over to her and touched her chin. His fingers were warm, a striking contrast to the cold air that moved briskly over her face. “It won’t do me any good,” he whispered softly. “God can’t control those who framed me.”

  “God is in control of everything.”

  “Then I guess He doesn’t want to bless me.” Hurt dashed over his face. “Maybe I’m still paying for that reckless youth.”

  What could she say? She’d seen women who lived reckless lives remain unblessed. Here in Proud Bend, the soiled doves scraped by. Barely, bitterly.

  But they didn’t all have misspent youths. Bea was a shining example of how horrible a woman’s circumstances could become through no fault of her own.

  “We’re made new creations in God,” she answered quietly. Was she becoming that? How could losing her drive make her a new creation?

  He dropped his hand. “Yes, we’re made white as snow. I was there for that Sunday-school message. But that doesn’t mean the consequences of our actions don’t catch up with us. They caught up with you that night of the assault because you felt, incorrectly, I might add, that you could solve those women’s troubles with money.”

  “I know. I just feel...”

  “Guilty? Don’t. Others choose their own paths for their lives. You didn’t force them to do anything.”

  “That’s the problem. I should have forced Bea to take a loan. Forcing her might have saved her life.”

  “Be careful it’s not pride speaking.”

  Was Zane talking about himself or her? She stepped back, watching him load up his arms with more wood. “And Liza? If I had insisted that she avoid the person she felt had assaulted me, she might still be alive. I didn’t do enough.”

 

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