Undercover Sheriff. Barbara Phinney
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she offered no explanation, he continued, “I want it. If you do not hand it over immediately, I will simply take it from you. By force.”
Rachel swallowed. Regardless of her innocent motives, she had stolen something from Alex’s desk, and this man, his identical twin, had more right to it than she did.
Lord, Your spirit is pricking my conscience. Have it work for Your good.
Reluctantly, Rachel dug out the postcard. All she could hope for was that Zane would find it useful in tracking down Alex. “All I wanted to do was study it when I had the time, because I don’t have it now. I would have returned it.” She would have, she told herself fiercely, but the look of doubt on Zane’s face proved he didn’t believe her.
“And the reason for not giving it to his deputy to aid in his investigation? Unless, of course, you are responsible for Alex’s disappearance.”
“I’m not!” She threw back her shoulders. “I have no reason to wish any harm to Alex! I am, in fact, the one who is working the hardest to find him—and I’m just as capable as the deputy is at following a lead. Perhaps better than him. Otherwise, he would have already found this card himself. He has just admitted to me this very morning that he hasn’t yet searched this room because Alex was at the sheriff’s office, and before that, at the saloon, and had not been here for several hours before he was last seen. The deputy didn’t think searching here would help, whereas I do. That’s why I’m here. I’m retracing his last day starting in the morning.”
“Really?” Zane’s extended hand did not waver, for she had not yet returned the card. “Leads can take a person to places where ladies such as you should never go.”
A snicker escaped her lips before she could stop it. “You, sir, have no idea where I have gone. Regardless, this postcard could hold clues to your brother’s location. That’s the only reason I took it.”
Oh, who are you kidding here? You’re also afraid you’ll be implicated in his disappearance.
Ignoring the sudden internal accusation, Rachel opened the folded card slowly. It was a picture postcard of Castle Rock, the town just a few miles southeast on the same railway line that led up to Denver. The imposing butte jutted up in the picture’s background, an ugly formation Rachel knew was normally covered with mining paraphernalia, but in this romantically painted landscape, the artist had removed all that trash. She hastily committed the image to memory before turning it over. Beneath the standard postcard printing was her name, written at an upward angle. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but knew that few people in Proud Bend—assuming the writer lived here and not in Castle Rock—could manage such smooth, readable cursive.
Zane tugged the card from her grip, obviously impatient with her delay. After studying it himself, he glanced up at her. “It has your name on it, Miss Smith.”
Rachel swallowed. “Yes. I can read.”
“It’s in my brother’s handwriting.”
She lifted her brows, all the while trying her best to stay reserved. She was anything but that. What Zane had just said answered one of her questions but added others. Why had Alex written her name on a postcard from the next town? Where did he get this card? Had he traveled to Castle Rock in the course of his investigation into Rosa’s disappearance? If so, why take a postcard and waste it by writing only her name on it?
Worry bit into Rachel. Lord, You know where they are. Lead us to them. Rosa wanted to give her life to the Lord, she’d told Rachel hesitantly, and the next day she had promised Rachel she would help her in her ministry to the misguided women who had fallen into a life of prostitution in Proud Bend. That had been over a month ago, for today was the seventh of December. Rosa had gone missing ten days ago. Rachel had gone straight to Alex the day after she’d disappeared. Two days after that, Alex had vanished, as well. So far, she’d found no clues to his whereabouts—except for this card. It might have nothing to do with Rosa, but if it wasn’t important, why keep it? It had been the only thing in a drawer that by now should have been littered with various small items.
“How did you get in here?” Interrupting her thoughts, Zane glanced around the room. “Did my brother give you his key?”
Rachel flushed. “Mrs. Shrankhof unlocked the room for me. Since I’m not privy to Alex’s official files on Rosa and Daniel—”
“Rosa? Daniel?” Zane looked baffled as he cut her off. “Who are they?”
“Rosa Carrera is a friend.” Rachel clipped her words, not wanting to mention the woman’s former profession. “Daniel is her young son, a toddler. They disappeared a few days before Alex did. I reported it.”
“Perhaps they moved away?”
Rachel shook her head. “She’d spent the weeks before her disappearance helping me with my ministry, and she was committed to the cause. She wouldn’t have just left. Besides, none of their things are missing—nor did she say goodbye to anyone.”
“Just what is this ministry of yours?”
She hesitated. She’d hoped to avoid specifying, worried that Zane would lose interest in the disappearance if he discovered that it applied to the unfortunates that society usually considered beneath their notice.
“I minister to the soiled doves of Proud Bend, and attempt to bring them to God.”
He eyed her shrewdly. “And Rosa helped you in this ministry? Was she a soiled dove, as well?”
“She used to be,” Rachel admitted.
“Maybe she returned to her old habits?”
“No, she has given her life to God.” Rachel folded her arms. “Obviously you’re not a Christian, to be so willing to discount the work of the Holy Spirit.”
Zane raised his brows, looking insulted. “I assure you, Miss Smith, nothing could be further from the truth.”
Rachel studied him. Although she couldn’t say why, she believed his words. She had no proof, save the indignant look. She had no proof that Alex’s disappearance was related to Rosa’s, either, but like Zane’s answer, she knew it to be true.
His scowl returned. “So you reported her disappearance to Alex?”
“Yes, but as soon as he opened an investigation, he went missing, too.” Rachel bit her lip. Had Alex somehow given up on this town and abandoned his duties? Had the work here proved too much for Proud Bend’s new sheriff? Too much stress and anxiety?
Automatically, Rachel’s thoughts moved to her childhood friend, Bea. Hard times had hit Bea’s family and by the time Rachel and Bea were eighteen, Bea had turned to prostitution to help make ends meet. A year later, in a fit of remorse for her choices, Bea had taken her own life. That sad act had cemented Rachel’s desire to help the soiled doves of Proud Bend.
That same year, along came Liza, who’d approached Rachel one day on the street, asking for money and followed by a younger, equally squalid-looking woman. It was Rosa, Liza’s daughter—a young woman who knew nothing else but to follow her mother in the profession of prostitution.
Rachel shut her eyes, trying to banish the memory. It still hurt to think of Liza and the terrible part Rachel had played in her untimely death.
You should feel guilty.
Two women, two deaths. Another woman missing. You could have tried harder to help Bea. And Liza might still be alive today if you hadn’t convinced the other soiled doves to hand over their life savings for you to invest. You would never have been robbed and assaulted that night. And if that hadn’t happened, Liza wouldn’t have decided to confront the man she believed was the thief. Your arrogance—your belief that you could save those women—played a big part in Liza’s death.
Rachel pushed aside the painful memories before they gained a stronger foothold. Right now, she couldn’t afford to dwell on them. Finding Rosa and Alex must come before wallowing in guilt.