Chapter Two

      “Don’t hurt me! Please.”

      Ruby had made the identical plea eight days earlier when she was accosted in her condo. The stalker hadn’t listened and instead had increased his choke hold, starving her body of oxygen as he whispered vile things in her ears.

      This man, Cliff, did listen. He released her but planted himself directly in her path, his stance and demeanor that of a linebacker. If she tried to run, she wouldn’t make it three feet before he dropped her in her tracks.

      “Who are you?” he repeated.

      She wavered, forcing herself to concentrate as her heart banged against the side of her rib cage. He was the local sheriff. Sworn to serve and protect, yes? And Ruby, God help her, needed protection.

      He was also someone her sister had liked well enough to date. Ruby should be able to trust him, only she didn’t.

      She cradled her wrist, the response more reflexive than anything else. He hadn’t hurt her. Not really. But the kiss, and its suddenness, had startled her, releasing a flood of harrowing memories she’d give anything to forget.

      “Are you okay?” he asked.

      “No, I’m not.” She’d never be okay again.

      He reached for her wrist. “Let me see.”

      Alarmed, she retreated a step. He was already too close for comfort. “I’m fine.”

      “Tell me your name.”

      Ruby considered her answer. Lying, as he’d pointed out, was useless. He might arrest her. Probably would anyway. Either way, he’d find out very quickly she wasn’t Scarlett.

      “Ruby,” she finally whispered. “Ruby McPhee.”

      “Scarlett’s sister?”

      She nodded. “Twin sister.”

      His eyes bore into her, noting, she supposed, the resemblances and very tiny differences that only their parents and close friends could distinguish. She averted her head and prepared herself for the onslaught of questions.

      He asked only one. “Why?”

      She instinctively knew her answer would decide his course of action. She settled on the truth, the lesser of two evils.

      “I needed a place to hide out for a week or so.” When he said nothing, she continued. “The detective on my case recommended it. At least until after the arraignment. So, Scarlett and I decided to trade places.”

      “Where is she?”

      “San Diego. Visiting—” Ruby swallowed. Revealing that her sister was off reconciling with her old boyfriend probably wasn’t a good idea. “A friend,” she finished lamely.

      “Who’s arraignment? Yours?”

      “Absolutely not!” He thought she was the criminal? Of all the nerve. “I was attacked last week. By a stalker. He was arrested and charged, then released on bail within hours.” Ruby had barely left the station before an army of attorneys secured Crowley’s freedom.

      “Where did the attack take place?”

      “My condo. He broke in and ambushed me when I came home.”

      “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