скачать книгу бесплатно
“What’s his address?”
“140 Matrimony Lane.”
“Tell him I’ll be there shortly.” Cliff disconnected. “I’ll call you later,” he told Scarlett. And he would, if only to get to the bottom of her strange behavior and new tattoo that really didn’t look all that new.
“All right.”
Any other time, he would have given her a kiss. It felt strange under the current circumstances, so, instead, he opted for a brief, one-armed hug—which she tolerated more than returned.
The top of her head came to just under his nose. Cliff inhaled, only to pull back and stare at her.
Scarlett averted her face as if shy. Or she was hiding something. His police instincts told him it was the latter.
Leaning down, he took another whiff of the scent that had triggered his internal alarm. She smelled delightful, reminding him of the flowers he’d brought for her. It also wasn’t at all how Scarlett normally smelled.
Something was seriously wrong.
He scrutinized her face. Eyes, chocolate brown and fathomless. Same as before. Hair, thick and glossy as mink’s fur. Her lips, however, were different. More ripe, more lush and incredibly kissable.
He didn’t stop to think and simply reacted. The next instant, his mouth covered hers.
She squirmed and squealed and wrestled him. Hot coffee splashed onto his chest and down his slacks. He let her go, but not because of any pain.
“Are you crazy?” she demanded, her breath coming fast.
Holding on to the wrist with the new tattoo, he narrowed his gaze. “Who the hell are you? And don’t bother lying because I know you aren’t Scarlett McPhee.”
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 sheriff had kissed her and instantly concluded she wasn’t Scarlett. “I think my tattoo tipped him off.”
“You’re going to have to be more careful if you intend to pull this off.”
“Yeah.” It was a stupid mistake.
“Might be to your benefit if I fill him in.”
Detective James didn’t need to spell it out. Crowley had easily found the address of Ruby’s condo. With his father’s powerful connections and a full week at his disposal, he could possibly discover where she was hiding.
“Your call, Ruby.”
“All right. Tell him.” She handed the phone back to Sheriff Dempsey, looking away but listening raptly to his side of the conversation. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. From what she gathered, reports and a photo of Crowley would be forwarded to the sheriff’s office.
“I’ll keep you posted.” Cliff disconnected from Detective James and immediately placed a second call. “Your sister isn’t answering,” he said after a moment.
Ruby’s head snapped around. “Why do you want to talk to her? Detective James confirmed my story.”
“To verify that she’s all right.”
“She’s fine.”
Deep vertical creases formed between his brows. “Where is she?”
“I told you. San Diego.”
“With a friend.” He said the last word as if he knew darn well boy should be in front of it.
“Are you going to tell Sam and Annie about the switch?”
“Yes.”
Worry seized her anew. “What if they fire Scarlett? She needs this job. And the fewer people who know about me, the better. I’m in danger. From the stalker and his family.”
“Call your sister.” His expression was all hard lines and uncompromising angles. “I want to speak to her.”
Left with no other option, Ruby removed her cell phone from her shirt pocket and dialed.
“Put the call on speaker,” Cliff said.
She did as told, refraining from rolling her eyes in exasperation. Scarlett answered on the fifth ring.
“Hi,” Ruby’s voice shook with relief.
“Sorry I didn’t pick up sooner. Demitri was showing me the baby Beluga whale. It’s so cute.”
“Listen, we have a—”
“Oh, sis,” Scarlett cut in. “Everything is just perfect. Demitri’s being a dream.” There was a wistfulness about her that even the speaker’s tinny quality didn’t distort. “He says he loves me and that he’s sorry.”
The sheriff’s eyes darkened. He’d figured out Ruby wasn’t her sister in a matter of minutes. He was surely connecting these dots at lightning speed. Was he hurt? Angry? Feeling betrayed? No one wanted to be the rebound.
Ruby dismissed an unbidden rush of guilt. Why did she care? She was hardly responsible for her sister’s complicated love life.
The bouquet of flowers lying on the table caught her eye, and the guilt returned. The gesture was sweet. Thoughtful. That of a man who held affection for a woman.
If she hadn’t asked for Scarlett’s help, her sister might have stayed in Sweetheart.
Fat chance. The sheriff was history the second Demitri crooked his little finger. Ruby’s appearance changed nothing.
