Rachel felt her mouth thin. “Very observant of you.”
“Alex isn’t the only lawman in the family.”
She narrowed her gaze, knowing that if he was like most lawmen, he would not give up until she admitted that he was correct. They stared each other down as she fought the urge to blink. She fought every fiber in her body that screamed to tell Zane everything, to pour out all the guilt that ate at her.
That would be a very bad idea. Just because he looked like his twin didn’t mean he was as understanding as Alex.
His stare continued.
Finally, needing to say something, anything to end the accusatory silence, she blurted out, “Fine, then. I didn’t want anyone to think I had something to do with Alex’s disappearance. I came here for any clue to help find him, and hopefully Rosa and Daniel, but as soon as I saw this card, I was afraid that if Deputy Wilson discovered it, he would focus on me, to the exclusion of all other suspects. I want him to find Rosa and Daniel because their disappearance must be connected to Alex’s. But I’m not responsible for what has happened to any of them!”
Even as she blurted out her words, she knew Zane didn’t believe her. As his stare continued, a shiver ran through her.
* * *
Not for a minute did Zane believe Rachel’s words. He glanced down at the postcard in his hand. A painted picture of Castle Rock? Why would his brother have a postcard from another town? And why waste a good postcard by writing only Rachel Smith’s name on it?
In fact, when had he written Rachel’s name on it? Before or after Rosa’s disappearance?
There was also another on that list of hard questions. How was it that he could so easily see the lies on Rachel Smith’s face, yet he had not seen how his own staff back in the little town of Canaan had conspired against him?
It was hard to believe Rachel could deceive anyone with a face that open and expressive. It was clear the woman was nervous, an emotion so tangible he could nearly taste it in the air. But did that mean she was involved in his brother’s disappearance? Could she be telling the truth about that?
Maybe her nervousness was simply because he’d startled her. And just being an identical twin to a missing man might unnerve another person. Enough to make them look guilty?
Perhaps, but that didn’t explain the postcard. Neither he nor Alex had anyone to send postcards to, aside from each other. They had lost their grandparents to old age a few years back, and parents to a flu outbreak last winter. At their parents’ shared funeral, Zane and Alex had decided never to lose contact with each other. That was how Zane knew exactly where to go as soon as he’d stepped off the train. In his first letter from Proud Bend, Alex had given him detailed directions to his home and office. Zane would have preferred to go straight to the sheriff’s office for an update, but since this room was on the way, he’d stopped here first, just in case his brother had returned.
It was a good thing he’d chosen this detour. Now it looked like he might be taking Miss Rachel Smith in for questioning. He latched on to her elbow. Firmly.
She immediately stiffened. “Let me go! What’s the matter with you?”
Zane saw shock flare in Rachel’s eyes, but he had no intention of releasing her. Just because a woman was indignant, didn’t mean she wouldn’t knock him over and bolt the second he released her. This Miss Rachel Smith looked healthy enough to get a good head start on him while he was scrambling to stand. She was taller than most women and if she hiked up that fashionable skirt of hers, she could race out of this room at a fairly good clip.
“We’re going to the sheriff’s office,” Zane ground out. “I want to see if the deputy has heard from my brother.”
Rachel dug in her heels. “You don’t need to handle me like a wayward child!”
“I think I do.” His grip wasn’t hard, but firm enough to ensure her compliance. “I want to question you in a professional manner and that means at the sheriff’s office.”
“You have no authority here.”
He was about to reply when he was cut off by a deep, booming voice. “What’s going on here?”
Zane turned. Standing in the open doorway was a large, well-dressed man, middle-aged, with extra weight around the middle. An even older woman, wearing a worn cotton skirt and blouse, with a flour-dusted apron wrapped around her wide girth and a heavy shawl draped over her shoulders, stepped out from behind him. Some of her gray, wispy curls escaped her white maid’s cap. Her eyes were wide, taking in every action.
“Who are you?” Zane asked, hearing impatience pepper his tone. He was here to find his brother, that’s all, not to confront every townsperson.
The older man drilled him with his own harsh glare. “I believe I should ask that question.”
“Don’t you recognize our new sheriff?” the older woman answered, peering up at the man. “You wanted me to tell you when he got back. As soon as I saw him pass my kitchen window, I sent my grandson.” She drilled Zane with a blatantly nosy stare. “He growed himself a beard, he did.”
The man shoved the old woman behind him and puffed up further. “Don’t be foolish, Mrs. Shrankhof. I spoke to Sheriff Robinson only eight days ago. He couldn’t have grown that thick a beard so quickly.”
Zane lit upon the man’s confession. According to the telegram, Alex had disappeared a week ago today. Could this man have been the last person to see him before he went missing?
“But he did, Mayor Wilson!” She pointed at Zane. “Look at him.”
Zane felt his jaw tighten. Mayor Wilson? The deputy who’d telegraphed him had the same last name. Were they related? Probably. True, it was a common name, but this was a small town. People hiring relatives and cronies into positions of power happened very frequently in these small, isolated towns. This man’s young relative didn’t sound experienced enough to be voted in as sheriff, but hiring him as deputy was probably as easy as pie.
“Go back to your kitchen,” the mayor growled to Mrs. Shrankhof. “I’ll handle this.”
At the man’s order, Alex’s landlady reluctantly retreated.
Tugging her arm free, Rachel stepped forward. “This is not Sheriff Robinson, Your Worship,” she explained. “This is his brother, Zane.”
Zane fully expected Rachel to add that she was also being mistreated by him, but she said nothing more.
Wilson shut the door. After turning, he studied Zane. “The resemblance is remarkable. Discounting the beard, of course.”
“They’re identical twins.” After a moment of thoughtful silence, Rachel took the opportunity to glance back at Wilson. Zane noticed immediately that her expression had changed. Because she had an ally in the mayor? “I believe,” she began, her words slow and careful, “that we have a unique opportunity here.”
Zane tossed her a cool glare. Rachel’s demeanor had switched from defensive to calculating. She now looked far too comfortable, and he automatically bristled. “A unique opportunity for what?”
Rachel
