“A former lover?”
There it was again, that accusatory tone. “No. We met at the casino where I work.”
“A dealer?”
“I’m assistant manager of the VIP lounge. Crowley was a customer. Well, his father, actually. He’s a regular and started bringing his son a few months ago after Crowley graduated college.”
Ruby didn’t tell Cliff more than that. She’d been advised to keep her mouth shut. The senior Crowley was a local politician with considerable clout. His lawyers had contacted Ruby twice, pressuring her to drop the charges in exchange for compensation.
It was yet one more reason she’d decided to leave Vegas until after Crowley’s arraignment and why she would feel safer going home afterward. Once Crowley entered his plea, his attorneys would stop pressuring Ruby.
“Which casino?” Cliff asked.
How many questions was this guy going to ask? “The Century Casino. In Vegas.”
“Did you encourage this guy? Why’d he pick you?”
Ruby frowned. Suddenly, their conversation had become an interrogation. She felt as if she was back at the police station, wanting to cry out that she was the victim, not the perpetrator.
“Contact Detective Dorell James of the Vegas Metro P.D. You can ask him the rest of your questions.” She squared her shoulders. “Am I free to go now, Sheriff? Or are you taking me in?”
“I’m considering it.”
An indignant gasp escaped her. “I haven’t broken any laws.”
“That remains to be seen. Your sister’s missing.”
“I told you. She’s in San Diego. Call her if you don’t believe me.”
“I will. After I verify your story.” Removing a satellite phone from his belt, he punched numbers into the keypad and offered no greeting to whoever answered. “I need you to locate a Detective Dorell James, LVMPD. Patch me through once he’s on the line. Tell him it’s regarding Ruby McPhee. Yes, that’s right. Ruby. Not Scarlett.”
He watched her while he waited, like a predator studying its prey in the seconds before pouncing. Ruby tried not to squirm and observed him in return through lowered lashes.
The sheriff—it was hard to think of him as Cliff—was one of those men who did justice to a uniform. Tall, broad shouldered, rugged features. She’d noticed his short cropped blond hair before he donned his hat and it disappeared beneath the brim. His eyes, pale blue when he looked into the light and gray when he looked away, were disarming. She doubted they missed the smallest detail, which must account for how he’d so easily discovered her ruse.
Under different circumstance, Ruby would find him attractive. She didn’t blame her sister for dating the sheriff in Demitri’s absence. He was certainly better boyfriend material than a nomadic marine biologist. Not that Ruby was in the market for a boyfriend.
She caught herself fidgeting and immediately stopped. The sheriff, for his part, hadn’t so much as blinked.
This would be over soon, she told herself. Once Detective James explained her situation, surely the sheriff would release her...and probably go straight to the owner of the ranch.
She should have chosen a different town, gone to stay with her father in North Dakota. Not agreed to Scarlett’s harebrained scheme. Too late now. She and Scarlett were both going to suffer the consequences—Scarlett losing her job and Ruby enduring a grueling visit to the station.
“Detective James. This is Sheriff Cliff Dempsey from Sweetheart, Nevada.”
Ruby straightened.
“I have a woman here claiming to be Ruby McPhee. She’s been impersonating her sister, Scarlett McPhee.” After a pause, he handed the phone to Ruby. “He’d like to speak to you.”
Ruby accepted the heavy phone, its weight and solid form oddly comforting. “Hello.”
The detective’s rich baritone filled her ears, also comforting. “Are you okay?”
How often had she been asked that question in recent weeks? Fifty? A hundred? Twice in the previous two minutes. “Yes.”
“What happened? You only arrived in Sweetheart an hour ago.”
She couldn’t very well tell him that the sheriff had kissed her and instantly concluded she wasn’t Scarlett. “I think my tattoo tipped him off.”
“You’re going to have to be more careful if you intend to pull this off.”
“Yeah.” It was a stupid mistake.
“Might be to your benefit if I fill him in.”
Detective James didn’t need to spell it out. Crowley had easily found the address of Ruby’s condo. With his father’s powerful connections and a full week at his disposal, he could possibly discover where she was hiding.
“Your call, Ruby.”
“All right. Tell him.” She handed the phone back to Sheriff Dempsey, looking away but listening raptly to his side of the conversation. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. From what she gathered, reports and a photo of Crowley would be forwarded to the sheriff’s office.
“I’ll keep you posted.” Cliff disconnected from Detective James and immediately placed a second call. “Your sister isn’t answering,” he said after a moment.
Ruby’s head snapped around. “Why do you want to talk to her? Detective James confirmed my story.”
“To verify that she’s all right.”
“She’s fine.”
Deep vertical creases formed between his brows. “Where is she?”
“I told you. San Diego.”
“With a friend.” He said the last word as if he knew darn well boy should be in front of it.
“Are you going to tell Sam and Annie about the switch?”
“Yes.”
Worry seized her anew. “What if they fire Scarlett? She needs this job. And the fewer people who know about me, the better. I’m in danger. From the stalker and his family.”
“Call your sister.” His expression was all hard lines and uncompromising angles. “I want to speak to her.”
Left with no other option, Ruby removed her cell phone from her shirt pocket and dialed.
“Put the call on speaker,” Cliff said.
She did as told, refraining from rolling her eyes in exasperation. Scarlett answered on the fifth ring.
“Hi,” Ruby’s voice shook with relief.
“Sorry
