“You don’t think he’s coming back?”

She shook her head. “All his things are gone.”

“Everything?”

She nodded and swallowed tightly. “Including Grady’s truck.”

Laredo swore under his breath. “Did Grady talk to Sheriff Hennessey?” he asked.

Savannah looked down at her clenched hands.“Yes,” she said, her voice small. “That was when he learned…”

“Learned what?”

She sighed. “There’s more, Laredo. Richard’s charged thousands of dollars’ worth of goods in Promise. He owes money to everyone in town. There was never any check. He didn’t intend to pay for any of the things he charged and now he’s gone.” She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to keep the tears at bay. “You should have seen the look on Grady’s face when Frank told him. It was the same look he had six years ago—when he found out what Richard did then. After Mom and Dad died…”

Savannah hadn’t thought herself capable of such intense anger. She looked her husband in the eye and said, “I think I hate my own brother.”

8

RICHARD HAD BEEN GONE A WEEK. TO GRADY, his brother’s disappearance was both a blessing and a curse. Only now was Grady getting a complete picture of the damage Richard’s extended visit had wrought. Every day since his brother had vanished, a fistful of new bills arrived, charges Richard had made using the family’s accounts.

The bills were stacked on Grady’s desk, and whenever he looked at them, his anger mounted. He’d made a list of money owed and checked it three or four times before he could grasp the full extent of what Richard had done.

While a majority of businesses in town accepted credit cards, ranchers tended to avoid them. Grady carried only one, and it was tucked in the back of his wallet for emergencies. All his purchases were paid for with cash or put on account, then paid in full at the end of each month.

In the weeks since his return, Richard had taken it upon himself to run into town to pick up supplies, and Grady had let him. Sending his worthless brother on errands had seemed innocent enough, and it freed up Laredo, Wiley and him for the more serious ranching chores. What Grady didn’t know was that every time Richard had driven into town, he’d charged clothing, expensive liquor, all kinds of things, on the family accounts. It added up to nearly eight thousand dollars, not including the money still owed on some of his earlier purchases. Richard had masterfully hidden what he’d done, robbing Peter to pay Paul, returning goods and buying other things with the credits. He’d managed to disguise his actions using a number of clever cons. Merchants had trusted him. Trusted the Weston name.

Now Richard was gone, and just like six years earlier, Grady was stuck with the mess he’d left behind.

Unable to tolerate looking at the stack of past due notices, Grady grabbed his hat and abandoned his office. The day was hot, although it was only nine in the morning, and he was supposed to meet Wiley and the hired hands near Gully Creek.

He was halfway to the barn when he saw Frank Hennessey’s patrol car coming down the driveway, kicking up a plume of dust in its wake. Grady paused and waited for the lawman. With any luck Frank would have some word about Richard and the stolen truck. Whereas Grady hadn’t filed charges against his brother six years ago, he felt no such compunction now. He wanted Richard found and prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Richard deserved a jail term, if for nothing more than the agony he’d caused Caroline by kidnapping Maggie. Until the day he died, Grady wouldn’t understand what had prompted his brother to steal away with the child.

For her part Maggie seemed to have made a full recovery. Thank God. She clung to Caroline, but that was understandable. She refused to talk about where she’d gone or who she’d been with, but anyone with half a brain knew it’d been Richard. If Grady had anything for which to thank his useless brother, it was that he’d had the common decency to bring Maggie back to her mother.

Frank parked the patrol car in the yard and slowly climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Morning, Grady.” He touched the brim of his hat.

“Frank.” Grady nodded in greeting. “I hope you’ve come with good news.”

“Good and bad, I’m afraid,” Frank said. By tacit agreement the two men headed toward the house for coffee. Savannah was busy in her office, updating her rose catalog on the computer, but she’d recently put on a fresh pot.

Grady poured them each a cup but didn’t sit down. When it was a question of receiving news about Richard, he preferred to do it standing up.

“What have you learned?” Grady asked, after giving Frank a moment to taste the coffee. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his ankles. Frank remained standing, as well.

“First, your truck’s been found.”

This was an unexpected and pleasant surprise. Grady had driven the old Ford pickup for ten years now, and he’d grown attached to it. The thought of being forced to buy a new one had rankled, especially in light of the mounting bills.

“Richard abandoned it in Brewster,” Frank said, “and stole another.”

While he wasn’t surprised, Grady would almost rather lose his truck permanently than have his own brother steal some other rancher’s vehicle.

“It was a newer model,” Frank said with a soft snicker. “Apparently yours was a bit too old to suit his image.”

Grady didn’t miss the sheriff’s well-placed sarcasm.

“Only this truck had an additional advantage,” Frank muttered.

“What’s that?”

“The owner kept a rifle mounted in the back window.”

Grady took a moment to mull over the information. “You don’t think Richard would actually use it, do you?”

The lawman shrugged. “Given the right set of circumstances, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Grady had never thought of Richard as violent. He’d proved himself to be a weasel and a lowlife, but the fact that he might be brutal enough to use a weapon against another human being surprised even Grady. “What makes you think that?” Grady asked, afraid of what Frank was going to say. Last night he’d alluded briefly to something Richard had done back East, but at the time they were all too concerned about Maggie to give it much thought. “What do you know about Richard?”

The sheriff had never been one to hedge, and he didn’t do so now. “It gives me no pleasure to tell you this, but there’s been an arrest warrant issued for him from New York City.”

“New York? On what charge?”

“The list is as long as my arm,” Frank said with real regret. “Extortion for one. Richard’s been involved in a number of scams, most of them bilking immigrants from Central and South America. Apparently he fed them a pack of lies, luring them into the country with promises of housing and jobs. Promises he had no intention of keeping. He set them up in warehouses in horrible conditions, forced them into menial jobs from which he collected most of their pay. It made big news on the East Coast when his activities were uncovered. Somehow he managed to scrape together the bail, then hit the road the minute he was freed.”

Grady had been angry at his brother and furious at himself, too, for allowing Richard to worm his way back into their lives with his hard-luck story. Richard had taken advantage of his family; that was bad enough. But to learn he’d made a profession of stealing from others made Grady sick. How was it that his own brother—born of the same two parents, raised in the same household—could have lowered himself to such depths? If he lived to be an old man, Grady would never understand what had turned Richard into the type of person who purposely hurt others.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Grady,” Frank said again.