hadn’t wanted to talk about most ranches he’d worked, because more than likely he’d left under unpleasant—if not downright criminal—circumstances. Dillon thought of the one over on the Powder River and the two hundred bucks it had cost him. He wondered what it would cost him at this ranch.
He checked his mirror. Dust boiled up behind the pickup, obscuring anyone who might be following them. “What makes you think this is the ranch?”
“Its size,” she said. “I got the impression the man was very wealthy. But also that arch we just drove under? Did you see the elk artwork in the metal part?”
He already suspected Ethan had worked here. Now he was afraid of what they would find out about his brother as they came over a rise and a sprawling house came into view. Dillon hoped it hadn’t been a mistake bringing Tessa with him.
The house was a single story made of stone and log with a green metal roof. The roof and the house seemed to run forever along the river’s edge.
Dillon parked in front, bracing himself for more bad news as they got out and approached the gigantic carved wooden door.
A woman answered a few minutes after he’d pushed the doorbell. A military march song echoed through the house as she asked, “Yes?” She was dressed in a maid’s uniform.
“We’re here to see Mr. Truman.”
She nodded and led them into a massive living room. Dillon spotted the fireplace, a towering stone masterpiece, and the elk mount dwarfing the room. It looked like something out of Boone and Crockett. He and Tessa shared a look. It appeared he’d been right about his brother following Luke Blackwell here.
At the sound of boot heels on the stone floor, they both turned. One look at the man and Dillon knew this had to be Halbrook Truman, the ranch owner. He carried himself like a man in a hurry to get whatever he wanted with no doubt in his mind that he would succeed.
The fiftysomething rancher appeared distracted, so it took a moment before he looked up and actually saw them. His gaze went from Tessa to Dillon before he stumbled to a stop. “Ethan?” He started to laugh, shaking his head as if nothing surprised him anymore. “You’re the last person I expected to see—especially wearing a damned sheriff’s department uniform. Did you make Luke one of your deputies?” The man guffawed at his own joke.
For the second time in two days, someone had thought Dillon was Ethan. He’d lived so long separately from his brother that he’d forgotten what that was like.
“I’m Undersheriff Dillon Lawson. Ethan was my brother.” He couldn’t help using was. Part of him still wouldn’t let himself believe that Ethan really was alive. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his brother all over again if not.
Halbrook let out a grunt. “Yeah, right. Call yourself whatever you please, since we both know that the rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated. But you’d better be here to return my property.” The rancher glanced at Tessa. “All of it, including the ring I gave my fiancée. I hope to hell you didn’t knock up Ashley, too.”
So Halbrook had heard about Ethan’s death, but unlike Dillon, he hadn’t been fooled by it. “What property might that be?”
The rancher narrowed his gaze. “What the hell is this?” He laughed again but there was no humor in it. “You foolin’ with me, son? You should know better than that.”
“As I told you, I’m not Ethan. I’m his twin brother. I take it he never mentioned he had an identical twin.” Dillon tried not to let that hurt him. He remembered Ethan saying once that he felt like a carbon copy, not the real thing.
“You have some credentials on you?” Halbrook Truman asked.
Dillon produced his driver’s license, along with his badge and one of the photographs he’d shown Tessa, of him and his brother. For years he hadn’t had to explain about his twin because Ethan hadn’t been part of his life. It felt strange now.
The rancher’s eyes widened as he took in the photo. His gaze swept up to meet Dillon’s and narrowed. “He never said anything about having a twin.” Suspicion laced his tone. “If you’re not Ethan, then what are you doing here?”
“I wasn’t sure Ethan had worked for you. Now that I know he did, I’m hoping you might know where he is.”
Halbrook fidgeted with the coins in his jeans pocket for a moment before moving to a cabinet along the wall. A door swung open, exposing a built-in bar.
Before, the man apparently hadn’t thought he was really dealing with law enforcement. Now he seemed worried. Why was that, if Ethan had taken his property from him? Wouldn’t he be glad to have the law involved?
“You didn’t say what my brother took that you were hoping I was bringing back, along with your fiancée’s ring,” Dillon said to the man’s back as Halbrook poured himself a drink and took a gulp from the crystal glass. The alcohol seemed to fortify him.
“And you didn’t say why you’re really here, if you weren’t even sure your brother worked here or not,” the rancher said without turning around.
“Luke Blackwell.”
Halbrook turned slowly and raised a brow. “I didn’t know we were talking about Luke.”
“You offered Luke a job when he got out of prison,” Dillon said. “You were instrumental in getting him out.”
“I like to help a man who wants to change.” The rancher shrugged and poured himself another drink. “He also apparently lied when he vouched for your brother.” Dillon noticed that the man’s hands were shaking, but not from fear or nervousness. Halbrook Truman was furious.
“Luke doesn’t still work for you?”
Halbrook laughed in answer.
“When did my brother and Luke leave your employ?”
The rancher pretended to give that some thought. “Let’s see. I’d say it was in the middle of the night the first part of February a year ago, as I recall. I found my safe open and empty the next morning and my fiancée, Ashley, gone, along with some of my hired hands.”
“You called the sheriff?”
The man’s expression darkened. “It was a personal matter.”
Dillon didn’t like the sound of that, given that Ethan had allegedly died in a car accident a month after leaving this ranch. The wreck had been ruled an accident, since alcohol was involved. Dillon had had no reason to suspect anything. Until Tessa showed up. So who had been in that car? Who had really died that night?
He pulled out his notebook and pen. “If you could give me the name of the ranch hands who left with my brother...”
“I don’t see the point.”
“I need to find Ethan. One of the others might know where he is. Or I could talk to your current employees—”
“Luke Blackwell, Tom Grady and Buck Morgan. You want the name of my fiancée, too?” The alcohol seemed to have loosened his tongue. Or maybe he didn’t want Dillon talking to his employees. “Ashley Rene Clarkson.”
Dillon
