She’d seen his shocked expression yesterday on the stairs. For a moment she would swear he’d thought she was Laura Beaumont. Was it possible she resembled the woman?

According to the short story, the rainmaker had known Laura intimately. He would have seen the little girl.

Dulcie followed the banging of his hammer, heard it slow as she approached, and then cease. The rainmaker raised his head as if he’d sensed her more than had seen her coming.

With one filthy hand, he pushed back his hat and leveled those malevolent dark eyes at her.

“What do you want?” he asked, his sandpaper voice grating.

“You knew Laura Beaumont.”

His expression didn’t change.

“I know you were her lover.”

One eyebrow lifted, but he still said nothing.

“I need to know about her and her daughter.”

He chuckled at that, a dry, rusty sound. “You need to mind your own business.”

“It is my business. If you know who killed her—”

“If I knew, he’d be dead.” The words snapped like a whip.

Dulcie swallowed, not doubting for an instant that he meant it. “I saw your expression yesterday when you glanced up as I came down the stairs. Do I look like Laura?”

“I have work to do.” He reached for his sledgehammer.

She grabbed his arm. It was hard and strong as the steel he pounded. “Please, I have to know why you thought I was Laura Beaumont.”

“You’re not.” He jerked his arm free.

“I could be her daughter, Angel.”

The dark eyes narrowed. “You’re not.”

“How do you know that?”

A thin, cold smile curled his lips. “I’m sure. Go home before you get hurt.”

“Are you threatening me?” Her voice betrayed her and broke, making him smile as he picked up the sledgehammer.

“Leave me alone.” He turned his back on her. As he swung the hammer, she had to jump back. He brought the sledge down hard on the top of the steel pipe. The deafening sound rang in her ears long after she left.

Russell had ridden out this morning to help with the fence. Now he realized that he could get to the old Beaumont place faster by horseback than returning to the ranch for his pickup.

He needed the fresh air anyway. The news his brother had given him only made him more afraid for Dulcie.

That Dulcie had been right about a possible cover-up only made him more anxious. Now there definitely seemed to be a question as to whether or not Angel Beaumont was really dead. If Angel had seen the killer, that would explain why her mother’s murder file had been sealed. Someone had wanted the townspeople to believe that Angel was dead.

But was she?

It was all speculation with few facts and he knew better than to jump to too many conclusions at this point.