Undercover Sheriff. Barbara Phinney
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 glanced out the window before answering, probably to ensure that Mrs. Shrankhof had indeed returned to her kitchen. “Mr. Robinson, our town needs a sheriff because ours has gone missing. Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement? A temporary one, that is, until you find your brother. If I remember correctly, you said you are also a lawman.”
“And you want me to work here so you can make me disappear, as well?”
If he was expecting Rachel to be ruffled at the accusation, he was disappointed. All she did was color slightly. “Alex is missing. You want to find him as much as we do. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
There she went, calling his brother by his first name again, despite her assertions that she wasn’t intimately involved with him. Curious, and not something a well-mannered gentlewoman would be expected to do.
“What did you have in mind, Miss Smith?” the mayor asked.
“It’s not the most ideal situation, but it’s the only one I can think of. Mr. Robinson can adopt his brother’s identity.”
Zane studied Rachel. What kind of town was this that a well-dressed woman could suggest such subterfuge to the town’s mayor with the expectation it would be accepted?
Was it a crooked town, where deception and manipulation were common? It wouldn’t be the first. In his town, Canaan, he had seen the wealthy bend the rules regularly. Was he expecting something different in a town where his brother had mysteriously disappeared?
Rachel met his gaze with only a hint of reluctance. “You mentioned that Alex wasn’t the only lawman in the family. Are you a sheriff, also? If so, where?”
Zane paused. He didn’t want them to know that his latest employment hadn’t ended well. If they questioned his competence or honesty, they might not let him participate in the efforts to find his brother, and Alex needed him. Zane’s disgrace in Illinois didn’t compare to his brother’s safety, and, right now, for full access to Alex’s files and belongings, he would need to convince this pair he was trustworthy. He would just have to take the chance that they would not ask more than the most rudimentary of questions. “I was the sheriff in Canaan, Illinois.”
“Will you take your brother’s place?” There was a hint of desperation in Rachel’s quick words. “It could lead you to Alex.”
Automatically, his lips tightened. “Are you in such a position to offer that to me?”
“No, but I am,” the mayor answered, puffing up more.
“Mayor Wilson wants this town to know that his main priority is their safety and well-being,” Rachel added.
Ah. That’s it. Zane nodded, understanding the situation. “So, it’s an election year?”
“Yes.” Suddenly, a small smile pulled up the corners of the woman’s mouth, one that stated quite bluntly she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by the stratagem. “Our good mayor wants to keep his job. When our old sheriff passed on several months ago, he immediately hired your brother. Like any frontier town, Proud Bend needs a good lawman, and after you find Alex, he can return to his duties, you can return to yours and the rest of the good citizens will remain none the wiser of the switch.”
Zane watched Rachel blink at him with affected innocence. Should he take this curious offer? It did tempt him. Taking the sheriff’s position would give him access to resources he would not otherwise be able to command. If he didn’t take it, what would that do to his chances of finding his brother?
Pare them down to nothing, that’s what, for surely one word from the older Wilson to the younger one and Zane would be punished for not coming on board with the mayor’s—no, wait, Rachel’s—idea of switching identities. He’d probably be run out of town or, at the very least, be denied access to his brother’s office, the one that held the information on the investigation into Alex’s disappearance.
Oh, how he hated politics. All that sly scheming and manipulation. When he’d refused to bow to Canaan’s mayoral pressure to suspend a recent investigation that pointed the finger of guilt at the mayor’s son, Zane had been the one accused of the theft. He’d tried to fight back, only to be framed and forced out of office.
Zane pinned Rachel with another sharp look. “I’m not interested in Proud Bend’s politics, Miss Smith. Nor should you be. You can’t even vote.”
She straightened her shoulders. “My suggestion benefits both you and this town.”
“So why are you so interested? How does this benefit you?”
She blinked, her jaw