Barbara Phinney

Undercover Sheriff


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or acting as him? I don’t do undercover work.” It smelled too much like what had already happened to him, when those on his staff had bent to the mayor’s subtle threats and gone undercover to plant evidence that implicated him.

      Rachel studied him. “Or is it that you just don’t care for lies?”

      Zane stiffened. Miss Rachel Smith was proving to be as good at reading people as he was, with her quirked eyebrow and sharp, blue-eyed gaze. He’d have to be careful.

      “Both. I don’t care for lies—nor do I care for undercover work,” he answered stiffly.

      Her demeanor softened. Was that a hint of respect forming in her expression?

      “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Robinson,” Rachel said, quickly recovering her cool manner. “But I can’t see you doing anything else. You know you won’t be able to waltz into the sheriff’s office and demand to see all that Deputy Wilson has done in finding Alex. Or read Alex’s file on Rosa and Daniel. The two cases must be related. Two disappearances in a short period of time? You’d need both files.”

      “My brother could be working on a covert assignment—he might not be missing at all.”

      “You mean, going undercover without telling his deputy?” She looked skeptical. “Does he like undercover work?”

      Zane couldn’t say for sure. The topic had not risen in any conversation Zane had ever had with Alex. “I expect he would do whatever is necessary to find your friend.” Even as Zane said that, he heard the hesitation in his words. Did he not believe them? He hated his own doubt.

      Rachel must have heard the uncertainty because she frowned ever so slightly. “Perhaps Alex is dallying where he should not be dallying.”

      Zane felt his jaw tighten. No. While Alex had often enjoyed life more than he did, his brother would never abandon his job to “dally” with anyone. Rachel’s suggestion was ludicrous, he told himself a bit too fiercely.

      Wasn’t it?

      “Do you believe your brother would just walk away from a job?” Rachel asked.

      Zane paused and swallowed. The Alex he had grown up with would never have walked away. But after Nicola died a few years back, Alex had taken his wife’s early demise hard, even disappearing once for several days and sending their mother into a frantic state. Yes, he’d changed. He’d decided to live more in the moment, he’d told Zane once. Zane knew Alex was running from his grief, but he would say nothing of that aloud, not in front of these people who would judge Alex harshly if he truly had walked away from his life once again.

      At his hesitation, Rachel’s gaze sharpened and Zane immediately heightened his efforts to appear calm and in control.

      “Of course this is a political decision,” she said smoothly, wrapping up the conversation as if she was the chair of an important meeting. “But, naturally, one must use common sense here.” As she slipped on one of her gloves, she indicated Zane. “One as—how shall I say this?—unceremonious as yourself won’t get much out of the people here.”

      Despite the seriousness of the moment, Zane allowed himself a small smile. If Miss Rachel Smith had tried to be diplomatic with him, it hadn’t worked. If she’d attempted to offend him, it had slid from him like water off a duck’s back. Regardless, he had been “unceremonious” with her. Alex had inherited all the tact, not him. Zane was the more difficult twin.

      “If you refuse,” Mayor Wilson added with a slight edge, “I cannot allow you to start your own investigation. It would be too disruptive.”

      To your upcoming campaign? Zane asked himself.

      “Why not pick up where your brother has left off, as your brother?” Rachel finished, her voice once again as smooth as a silk pillow. “You might just scare someone who can’t believe the sheriff is still around and walking. Scared people make mistakes.”

      True, but scared people acted dangerously, too. Zane drew in a thoughtful breath. He wasn’t going to agree to anything simply because it benefited this pair. “So you’re suggesting Alex’s disappearance is the result of foul play?” Scrubbing his face and beard, Zane knew he had to voice another concern, although he hated it. “What if Alex is dead? Don’t you think that his killer would know I’m not my brother?”

      Please, Lord, let that not be so.

      His words affected Rachel, he could tell. She swallowed and her mouth tightened, obviously hating that they had to consider that possibility. Her answer was soft and hesitant. “Then we shall have to pray that hasn’t happened.” She blinked, looking remarkably sincere in her grief concerning the idea, but he refused to believe it. “You’ll have to shave your beard, too, Mr. Robinson. Alex is clean shaven.”

      Zane automatically touched it. “Who says that someone else won’t realize that I’m not Alex? You saw the truth almost immediately.”

      “Perhaps I can help you be...less unceremonious,” Rachel answered smoothly, not answering his question directly.

      “I do not need any help. I know my own brother, and, to be frank, we have switched places before.”

      That memory cut into him like the ragged edge of a chipped razor. They’d managed to fool everyone except their mother. It hadn’t been his finest moment. It was curious that the one time in his life of which he was the most ashamed would be useful right now in doing some good—finding his brother.

      “Trust me, Mr. Robinson. I am confident I can help you.”

      He rolled his eyes. “Quite frankly, Miss Smith, I trust you as far as I can throw you.”

      Her gaze brightened as it danced over his frame, a moment of impudence that grated against Zane. “We can’t allow that, can we? You might hurt your back, for I’m not a small woman.” She turned from him. “Mayor Wilson, obviously you must make the final decision.”

      Zane glanced over at the man who up until now had watched the conversation with little input. Was he looking for weaknesses? “Miss Smith is right,” the mayor finally said with his mouth becoming a grim line. “It’s risky, but I’m afraid my son is not getting anywhere with his investigation and I want my sheriff back.”

      Of course. Your political career is on the line here. Still, Zane scowled, thinking of the three disappearances. In a small town, three persons going missing in a short span of time had to be related. He needed to get into his brother’s office and read his files. Fresh eyes might help. “What if I take on the position as myself and not my brother?”

      Rachel shook her head. “You’d have to earn everyone’s trust, which could take time. Assuming Alex’s identity can give you the trust he’s already earned. And—” Rachel glanced at the mayor before once more skewering Zane’s attention “—you would need to be elected to hold any authority in town if you refuse to take Alex’s identity.” A slightly knowing smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “Do you want to schmooze and glad-hand people all while your brother is missing?”

      Zane felt his chest tighten.

      Her tone softened immediately. “It’s not an ideal solution, but you’ll have all that’s in the sheriff’s office at your disposal if you take this offer.”

      Including Alex’s files and notes, Zane thought. They might include information on the lovely Rachel Smith. He frowned, not liking for one minute that he was even considering such an opportunity when his focus should be on finding Alex. Because learning about her wasn’t as important, not with the sly political machinations she was weaving.

      Zane nodded, wondering all the time if he’d just made a decision he would eventually regret.

       Chapter Three

      Exactly thirty-four hours after Zane Robinson had agreed to assume his brother’s identity,