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Natalie felt the chill. “Since the divorce wasn’t final, it’s fallen to me to settle his affairs. I just wanted to make sure there were no loose ends to tie up.”
“None. The business is mine. Slade and I squared our accounts before he died, so if you’re wondering whether I owe you anything—”
“No, of course not.” Natalie was liking the woman less and less, but she wouldn’t walk away until she’d learned all she could. “I was wondering if I could get Slade’s personal things from his desk at the trucking company. There might be something his friends would like.”
Stella glanced restlessly around the bar, clearly eager to end the conversation. “The desk has been cleared out. But if anybody bothered to box his things, you can pick them up. Just tell the man in the office I said it was all right.”
“Thank you.” Natalie would have risen to go, but just then Sheriff Axelrod walked in the door. Dressed in his uniform, complete with badge and pistol, he strode over to the booth.
“Stella, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like a word with this young lady,” he said.
“Fine. I’ve got things to do.” Stella rose and stepped away. The sheriff slid into her place, his husky body barely fitting against the table.
“I’ve been looking for you, Natalie,” he said. “Matter of fact, I was on my way to your place when I noticed your vehicle outside. Can’t say I figured you for a drinking woman.”
Natalie ignored the comment. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were all right. You’ve been through a lot in the past few days, losing your husband and having your boyfriend arrested for his murder.”
“I’m fine. And Beau Tyler is innocent.”
“Is he?” Axelrod leaned a few inches closer. His breath smelled of the Marlboros he smoked. “I pulled a few strings and got a look at his military record. The man did a lot of killing over there in Iraq. I mean, a lot. Something like that could get to be a habit—even an addiction. That’s why I need to warn you about him.”
“Warn me? That’s ridiculous.” All Natalie wanted was for the man to go away. But she needed to stand up for Beau. “Slade had more than his share of secrets—things I’m just learning about now. Those secrets could have made him some enemies. Have you looked into other suspects, Sheriff? Maybe you should.”
Axelrod shook his head. “I believe this case is what’s known as a slam dunk. Did you know Beau was treated for post-traumatic stress disorder? That stuff doesn’t just go away. I’d guess he was able to satisfy his killing urge as a DEA agent. But here in this little Texas town, with no Al Qaeda or drug runners to shoot, he’s having to look for other victims. I can’t prove it yet, but I’m pretty sure he killed that poor girl who was dumped in the bog. Sooner or later, if we don’t put him away, he’s bound to target somebody else—maybe even you. And that, young lady, would be a dirty shame.”
Natalie slid out of the booth and pushed to her feet. She was trembling, but she willed herself not to show it. “Sheriff, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she declared. “Do your job. And that means checking out everything and everyone. Slade always seemed to have money to spend and I don’t think it came from the trucking business. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was involved in something illegal. That’s where you should look for his killer.”
Before he could respond, she turned and strode outside. As she closed the door behind her, she could almost feel Stella’s eyes burning into her back.
She made it to her SUV and collapsed, quivering against the wheel. Pulling her emotions together, Natalie backed out of the parking lot and drove across town to the large fenced lot where Haskell Trucking was located. The name on the sign out front hadn’t changed. But that was no longer her concern, Natalie reminded herself. She was here to collect Slade’s personal belongings and look for anyone, or anything, that might provide a clue to his murder.
She’d been here before over the years, though not often. But she recognized the thin, graying driver in the Haskell uniform who greeted her in the parking lot when she stepped out of her vehicle. He’d started here more than twenty years ago, working for Slade’s father.
“Right sorry about your husband, Mrs. Haskell,” he said. “Slade was a good boss. Always paid us fair and on time.”
“Thank you, Ernie,” Natalie said, dismissing the kindly man as unconnected to the murder. “I can see you’re still open for business. Who’s in charge of the place now? I need to speak to someone about getting Slade’s things.”
A shadow of displeasure flickered over the time-creased face. “Young squirt in there.” He jerked his head toward the prefab building that served as the office. “Don’t ask me whose ass he had to kiss to get the job, but—” He broke off with an apologetic shake of his head. “Sorry, ma’am, my sainted mother taught me better than to use that kind of language in front of a lady.”
“It’s all right, Ernie. Please tell your family hello for me.” Giving his arm a light squeeze, she hurried into the building—and stopped as if she’d run into a wall.
Sitting behind the supervisor’s desk was Lute Fletcher.
For an instant he looked as startled as she was. His jaw dropped slightly. Then his mouth stretched into a smirk.
“Well, if isn’t Mrs. Haskell. I hope you aren’t here to lay claim to this place.”
Irked by his manner, Natalie squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m aware that Stella Rawlins owns the business no
w, if that’s what you mean.”
“So what are you doing here?” His insolent grin widened.
“I might ask you the same question. After Beau fired you for almost killing the Tylers’ mare, I’m surprised anybody would give you a job.”
“Your late husband appreciated my talents enough to hire me. So did Stella. She promoted me to his spot. So you might say Beau did me a favor.” He flipped a lock of long black hair off his face. “So why are you here, Mrs. Haskell? Anything I can do for you?”
