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.
“Scarlett,” Cliff said into the phone. “Are you all right?” Each word was delivered with an icy undertone.
There was a long, awkward pause. Ruby half expected her sister to hang up. No matter. Cliff knew Scarlett was alive and well. That had been the whole purpose for the call in the first place.
Or, did he have an ulterior motive? He might have insisted Ruby call her sister in order to confirm the friend was indeed a boyfriend. Maybe he was retaliating by embarrassing both Scarlett and Ruby.
Anger prompted her to blurt out, “He knows about us. He saw my tattoo.”
The pause that followed was considerably shorter. “I’m sorry, Cliff,” Scarlett said. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I’d have told you, but everything happened so fast.”
“Are you all right?” he repeated.
“I’m great.” She sighed. “Look, maybe we can talk about this when I have more time. Then, I can explain.”
“Not necessary.” Turning on his heels, he snatched his half-finished coffee off the table and carried it to the sink where he rinsed out the mug.
Ruby removed the phone from speaker before continuing the conversation with her sister.
“For crying out loud, Scarlett, why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“I thought it was over.”
“You thought?”
“All right, I wanted it to be over. When Demitri contacted me last week, I blew Cliff off. Sort of.”
“Sort of? Really?”
“I avoided him. Didn’t return his calls. I figured he’d get the message.”
“He obviously didn’t. He brought you flowers.”
“Oh.”
“You should have leveled with him.” Ruby found it difficult to keep the disappointment from her voice. Her sister thought first of herself, then others.
“How’s he doing?”
Now she suddenly cared?
“I have no idea.” Ruby stared at Cliff’s rigid back, then at the flowers on the table, and her heart cried a little for him.
“How are you doing?” Scarlett asked.
“Well enough, all things considered.” She returned to the subject of Cliff. “Detective James says Sheriff Dempsey is someone I can trust. A straight-up guy.”
“He is. And he’s really sweet. If not for Demitri, I’d still be going out with him.”
Second choice. Ruby decided to spare Cliff that tidbit of info.
“He’s gorgeous, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Scarlett continued, talking more to herself than to Ruby. “And I liked the attention. Demitri was being his typical indifferent self, and I needed a distraction.”
Ruby gnashed her teeth together in frustration. How many times would her sister keep returning to that loser before she wised up?
The “gorgeous” guy in question stood at the sink, staring out the window, the muscles in his neck corded with tension.
Whatever Ruby did next, stay or leave, was partially up to him. She wasn’t reassured. There was nothing yielding or compassionate about