Deadly Christmas Pretense - Dana Mentink

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      Caught. Nan and the few patrons who’d assumed she was her sister had asked no questions. Even the man who’d seemed intent on killing her had mistaken her for Tammy. But there was no deceiving the cowboy who stood before her, every inch a stubbled and stubborn man, steely eyed and determined.

      She eased back a step, away from the touch of his long, calloused fingers, and folded her arms across her chest, desperately trying to identify an escape route. When she risked a look, he was regarding her from under the brim of his cowboy hat with a half smile that spoke of amusement rather than anger.

      “You’re not Tammy. What’s your name?” he asked.

      “Maggie,” she mumbled to her shoes.

      “A little louder, if you don’t mind,” he said, cocking his head slightly.

      Sucking in a breath, she leveled a square look at him, noting that his irises were the color of stonewashed denim.

      “My name is Maggie Lofton. I’m Tammy’s twin sister.”

      “You don’t say?” Now his smile was wider, as if the information amused him. “Not identical, now that I’m really looking.”

      His frank stare did not make her uncomfortable for some reason, just worried that she had already messed up on her impromptu investigation.

      “Fraternal,” she said. “I’m the younger one by two minutes.”

      He laughed at that and she found herself smiling.

      “Tammy told me she had a sister. I don’t recall hearing you were twins.”

      It was Maggie’s turn to fix him with a look. “You two dated for four months, didn’t you?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Did you tell her everything about your life?”

      That made him blink and look away for a moment, gaze shifting from her to the winter sky. “No,” he said. “I guess I didn’t.”

      “Okay, well I’m glad we talked and I’m sorry I wasn’t forthcoming right away. I, uh, have a good reason, if that means anything. Um, see you later.”

      “Uh-uh. You owe me an explanation.” The soft drawl in his voice did not lessen the intensity of his command.

      She wanted to tell him she owed him nothing, but she recalled the feel of his muscles struggling to haul her up over the lighthouse railing. In fact, she owed him her life. The reality of that made her want to sprint away into the tall green grass that edged the parking area.

      “I...” she started to say when his phone rang, too loud. She figured he had it turned up so that he could hear it.

      “Hang on one minute, ma’am,” he said.

      She sighed. “First off, now that you know my real name, you can knock off the ma’am thing. Second, I’m not waiting. I have to go.”

      But he was already answering the phone. The genial inquisitiveness in his expression turned to concern. “I’m on my way,” he told the caller.

      She took it as her reprieve until he shoved the phone into the rear pocket of his faded jeans.

      “That was my sister, Helen. She asked me to come ASAP to discuss a situation.”

      “Sounds serious. You should go.”

      He was silent for a moment, drawing out his keys. He whirled the key ring around his finger, expression calculating in a way that made her squirm. She’d just decided to forget the debt she owed Liam, get into the van and put as much distance as she could between the two of them when he spoke again.

      “Helen said she called over here to the Chuckwagon just now and heard I was chatting with you, so she told me to bring you along. That will suit, since you’re headed there anyway, right—” he added after a pause “—Maggie?”

       FIVE

      There seemed to be no choice at all, so Maggie, in the van, followed Liam to the Lodge, wondering the entire ten-mile journey why Liam’s sister had summoned her. Tammy had mentioned Helen a few times—they were friends—but Maggie could not imagine what Helen wanted.

      At least it had bought her some time to avoid Liam’s questions. He’d busted her right and proper. So far she had discovered nothing about whom her sister might have entrusted with the jewelry Virgil Salvador sought so desperately or where her sister might possibly be staying. How much longer would it be before she heard from her?

      Tammy, where are you? Tension knotted her already taut muscles even tighter. And something else zinged along her nerves: a strange buzz that had started up when she’d looked into Liam’s face as he’d described her eyes... A wash of gold there, like the sun setting into the ocean.

      Tammy had always been the one to whom men paid attention...her outgoing, bubbly spirit, the long, fashionable hair and trendy outfits. It was just the way things were and it had never caused Maggie a moment of angst. She wasn’t the belle of the ball, more like the star of the stove, which suited her just fine. Liam’s scrutiny unsettled her. That was all. Who wouldn’t be rattled with the current situation?

      There was no more time to mull it over as she pulled the van up at her destination. She marveled at the rich wood exterior and peaked roof of the rustic building. Enormous Christmas trees, glittering with ornaments, flanked either side of the substantial front doors. The porch itself housed cozy cushioned benches and pots of crimson poinsettias. Liam caught up to her, Jingles’s nails scrabbling on the flagstones in hot pursuit.

      He stepped ahead and pulled open the heavy oak door for her. Though his smile was pleasant, concern pinched the corners of his mouth.

      “Jingles, you stay out—” Liam didn’t finish his sentence before the dog trotted right into the pine-scented lobby.

      Giggling, Maggie sailed in, too, leaving Liam grumbling along behind her. The lobby was as glorious as the exterior, all dark woods and comfy seating areas, illuminated by a massive chandelier formed from a collection of antlers. Cheerful clusters of people sipped cider and hot chocolate. The stone fireplace dwarfed the space, the mantel artistically decorated with greenery, crystal icicles and a white porcelain Nativity scene. Yet another Christmas tree, this one decorated with gold and silver balls, stood sentry near the front desk.

      A woman with auburn hair twisted into a neat chignon, despite the pencil skewered through the elegant twist, hurried out to meet them. She blinked when she saw Maggie before she extended a manicured hand. “I’m Helen, Liam’s sister.”

      Liam didn’t waste time on the niceties. “What’s wrong? Why did you need to see us both? How did you know she was Maggie, not Tammy?”

      “Stand down, soldier,” she said. “Come with me.” She led them behind the front desk, nodding pleasantly to the couple checking in with the young employee. “Welcome to Roughwater Lodge,” she called out before they entered a quiet hallway and climbed a narrow flight of stairs.

      On the way, Maggie caught the scent of something savory cooking in the kitchen. Her brain automatically sorted the scents into their elements: chicken, garlic, thyme, perhaps bay leaves and white onion.

      “We’re completely booked,” Helen was saying. “My room was the only place.”

      “Place for what?” Liam said, scooping up Jingles as he tried to scamper ahead of them. “This dog has zero manners.”

      “Devoted, just like I said,” Helen quipped over her shoulder. She opened a door at the top of the stairs that led to a charming sitting room impeccably decorated in elegant creams with touches of green and exposed wood beams overhead. A real Christmas tree scented

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