“When was the last time you talked to Josh?” Ashe asked.

“About two minutes before some guy walked up to me with a gun and pulled the trigger.” Joe crossed his arms over his chest. “Last time I’m saying it-I haven’t seen him. I haven’t talked to him. I don’t know where he is.”

Liz’s fingers tightened around the mug handle. I haven’t talked to him. A moment earlier, he’d said he hadn’t heard from him. Hearing from someone didn’t necessarily involve talking. An e-mail, a text message, a letter, a message passed through a friend, a posting on a Web site-there were a lot of ways to communicate without actually talking, and some of them were virtually impossible for anyone else to discover.

Careless phrasing on Joe’s part? Or a subconscious slip?

She set the mug on the table, and the sturdy base clunked, drawing Ashe’s gaze to her for the first time. He feigned surprise well. “You’re Elizabeth Dalton. Last time anyone saw you, you were helping Josh get out of town. Now you show up here with his brother, and we’re supposed to believe he’s not here, too?”

“I’m also looking for him,” she said stiffly. “I haven’t seen him in a couple months. I woke up one morning, and he was gone, along with everything we had worth taking.”

Skepticism colored Ashe’s expression and his voice. “Yeah, right. He just ran out on you.”

She met his gaze then. “That’s what Josh does. He runs out on people.”

“Or maybe he goes someplace, pretends to be his brother, settles in, then sends for his girlfriend. They say the best place to hide is in plain sight. The Mulroneys know now that Josh has a twin. Next time-and there’s always a next time-they’ll want to be real sure they’ve got the right brother.”

Heat rose in Joe, spreading through his veins with each increasing beat of his heart, tightening his jaw until his teeth ached. Shoving one hand into his hip pocket, he pulled out the battered leather wallet his grandmother had given him when he turned sixteen, jerked out his driver’s license and slapped it on the table.

“You said you left your license at home,” Ashe said accusingly.

“Yeah, well, arrest me for lying.”

The marshal picked up the license, studying it longer than necessary, obviously still not convinced. Why should he be? When they’d still lived at home, Josh had “borrowed” Joe’s license on more than one occasion, and no one had ever known. After all, his face matched the picture.

“What do you want? Fingerprints?” Joe reclaimed the license and put it away.

“You’re identical twins.”

“That means identical DNA. Not fingerprints.”

Ashe stared at him a moment before turning his attention to Liz. “So what happened between you two? Did he find someone else? Did you nag at him too much? What made him leave?”

As Joe had thought the night before, Liz definitely wasn’t comfortable around cops, but only someone who’d spent too much time watching her would see it. She straightened her shoulders under Ashe’s gaze, lifted her chin and evenly replied, “The why is none of your business, Mr. Ashe. He left. That’s all you need to know.”

“Had he been in touch with anyone from home? His family? Old friends? Maybe-” he shrugged “-the Mulroneys? Maybe they offered him big bucks to disappear. Ol’ Josh always liked money, didn’t he?”

You can never have too much money or too many women, Josh had boasted. Joe had known how he’d gotten the women-that had never been a problem for either of them-but he’d never wanted to know where Josh’s money came from. He’d alluded to investments, but there was a world of difference between his brother’s idea of investments and his own.

When Liz didn’t respond, Ashe turned back to Joe. “How much do you think they’d have to give him to overlook the fact they almost killed you? How much is your life worth to your brother?”

Not a whole hell of a lot. That knowledge hurt somewhere deep inside, but Joe stubbornly ignored it.

New customers came in, but he made no effort to leave the table. Despite his joke about Esther, she was perfectly capable of running things behind the counter without his help.

“They might have offered him money to disappear,” Ashe said quietly. “But odds are, they’d rather kill him than pay up. If you know anything, if it’s not too late…”

The words were directed to Liz, but hit Joe. That magazine on the shelf at home…Presuming the information was even still good, what would happen if he just turned it over to Marshal Ashe? If they found Josh, they couldn’t force him to testify. Sure, they could drag his ass into court, but if he didn’t want to cooperate, he wouldn’t. Maybe the promise of immunity, if they hadn’t already offered it, or the threat of withdrawal, if they had, would open his mouth, but Joe wouldn’t bet on it.

No, Josh wouldn’t voluntarily testify against the Mulroneys. Whether he had to get by on what he’d taken from Liz or was expecting a nice payoff from the Mulroneys, he’d left San Francisco with every intention of staying away from Chicago.

What if it was already too late? What if Josh was dead, had been dead for the last couple of months? Would Joe know? Twins were supposed to share some sort of intuition, some mental or emotional or genetic connection that couldn’t be severed by time or distance. But beyond sharing the same face and DNA, he and Josh had never been particularly close. The odds of his knowing when Josh was in trouble were pretty slim, particularly when he’d been in some sort of trouble his whole damn life.

“If I knew where he was,” Liz said, “I wouldn’t be here with his brother, would I?”

Ashe looked at Liz a long time, and so did Joe. Her comment hurt a little deep inside, too, but if she realized it, it didn’t show. Her forehead was wrinkled in a frown, her mouth set in a thin line.

Finally, Ashe tossed two business cards on the table. “Think about it. Decide if you want to save Josh’s neck-if he’s alive to save-and give me a call.”

Joe pocketed the card without looking at it. “Why weren’t you watching him all this time he’s been gone?”

“We were. In St. Louis, Kansas City, Denver, Albuquerque, Reno, San Francisco. He managed to give us the slip.” Ashe looked chagrined as he said the last words. “We’re going to find him again.”

“Good luck with that.”

As Ashe walked away, Liz picked up the card and tapped it on the table, her movements edgy.

“Did you know they were watching you?”

She shook her head.

“That’s freaky, even if you don’t have anything to hide, to think that someone is out there, tracking your every move.” The tap-tap came faster until he pulled the card from her grip. “Hey, you want some lunch? There’s a place down the street with the best steaks in town.”

“What about Esther? Shouldn’t she be off by now?”

“She offered to stay through lunch the minute she saw you waiting to cross the street.” He stood, took her mug to the counter and spoke to Esther, then returned as Liz slowly pushed out of her seat. She appeared a bit shaken. By being on the wrong side of an interrogation? It was no fun no matter how innocent you were. Or by the possibility that Josh might be dead, that she might never reclaim whatever he took?

Or by the chance that she might never see him again?

They left the shop and walked half a block before she spoke. “I don’t think Josh got paid off. I don’t think he had contact with anyone in Chicago. I would have known.”

His chuckle was dry and bitter. “Honey, he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear and stealing a necklace from around your neck, and you’d never notice it slipping away. Besides, he could have gotten in touch with them after he left.”

“I guess.” A few more steps, then, “Do you think he’s dead?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.” He felt her gaze on him and shrugged without meeting it. “Look, Josh and I have never been best buds and never will be. But I’ve never wished him dead. Well, not since we were kids.” Although some part of him wished Josh had never existed or, at least, had never known Liz. Then Joe wouldn’t feel guilty for wanting her. He wouldn’t keep remembering that she’d been Josh’s first. He wouldn’t wonder whether she preferred Josh to him.