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“Sheriff, shouldn’t you have the county prosecutor, or at least one of your deputies, present for this meeting?” Tori asked.
He dismissed her question with a shrug. “The prosecutor’s out of town and my deputies are all busy. Anyway, we don’t hold much with formalities around here. So let’s get right down to business.”
He shifted in the chair and cleared his throat. “As I expected, the ballistic test shows conclusively that the bullet found near Slade Haskell’s body was fired from Slade’s own Barrett fifty-caliber BMG rifle.”
“We’d like a copy of the results,” Tori said.
“I knew you’d ask, so I had this made for you.” The sheriff slid a plain manila folder across the desk. The single page inside, along with some printed data and a photograph of the gun, showed two magnified pictures of the bullets—one from the test firing, the other supposedly from the crime scene. The striation pattern on both bullets was identical.
Beau swore silently. Given the procedures for handling evidence, it wouldn’t be easy to switch a bullet fired from Slade’s gun with the original, but someone whose authority was beyond question—like the sheriff—could manage it. It was hard to believe that a man with Axelrod’s record would stoop to evidence tampering, but what other explanation was there?
“There’s more,” the sheriff said. “As you know, Beau, we found gunshot residue on your hands and your prints on the murder weapon.”
“Both of which have already been explained,” Tori said. “Beau moved the rifle and put it back in the safe. And he’d been target shooting with his niece before he was tested.”
“So you say.” The sheriff dismissed Tori’s words with a shrug. “But more evidence has come to light. Beau, your fingerprints weren’t found on the dial or anywhere else on the outside of that safe. So you weren’t the one who opened it, correct?”
“That’s correct. Nat—Dr. Haskell opened the safe for me.” Instinct and experience told him the direction this so-called interview was taking. Beau took a tight hold on his temper.
“You and Dr. Haskell were high school sweethearts, yes?”
“Anybody who’s lived around here for a while knows that.”
“And the two of you have rekindled the old fires since you came back.”
Tori spoke up before Beau could respond. “They were old friends. That didn’t change until after Natalie had filed for divorce. And that occurred after Slade had assaulted her and wrecked her clinic.”
“That’s what I was told. Still, there were reasons for Dr. Haskell to want her estranged husband dead.” The sheriff ’s pale eyes went cold. “Not only was he a physical threat to her, but she was also faced with the possibility of losing her clinic in a divorce settlement.”
Beau saw that Axelrod was deliberately baiting him. It was a tactic he had used many times himself. And the sheriff was damned good at it. “Why don’t you get to the point? Say what you’re really getting at,” Beau challenged.
“Fine.” The sheriff leaned back in his chair with the expression of a man holding all the aces in a poker game. “It appears to me that Natalie Haskell could be as deeply involved in this crime as you are. By opening her husband’s gun safe so you could take one of his weapons, at the very least she could be charged as an accessory. Or she could be a coconspirator, plotting with you to do away with her husband. Maybe it was even her idea and she talked you into it.”
“That’s a damn lie!” Beau exploded, nearly coming out of his chair. “She’s the victim in this.”
“And she’s played the role well, hasn’t she?” the sheriff taunted. “It?
??s only her word that she was attacked and raped by her husband. You two could have staged it all.”
Tori gripped Beau’s arm, holding him in the chair when he wanted to reach over that desk and jerk Axelrod across it by his shirtfront. Retaining the tight hold on his arm, she turned to the sheriff.
“You do realize that everything you’re saying is pure conjecture. Even as a circumstantial case, it’s weak.” Her words were as crisp as her voice. “You don’t have a shred of proof against her.”
“Not yet,” he conceded, never losing his smug look. “But I’m guessing that if we bring her in for questioning, we’ll get what we need to charge the lady.”
Rigid with contained anger, Beau glared at the man, who continued to watch him the way a well-fed cat watches a cornered bird. This was all part of some carefully laid plan. But what?
Suddenly Beau saw the end game.
“It occurs to me that if this case goes the full distance, the trial could be months away. Which would be too late to make a difference in your campaign for Congress, wouldn’t it, Sheriff? The primary is coming up soon. To win, you need all the good exposure you can get. That’s why you called us here today, and why there are only three of us in your office.”
Beau paused. Beside him, Tori sat frozen in shocked silence, but the smile on Axelrod’s face didn’t even twitch. “Go on, Beau,” he said. “I’m interested in hearing where you’re headed with this.”
“I think you know,” Beau said. “The one thing that will get you a fast conviction, and maybe enough exposure to win the nomination, is my signed confession or a promise to plead guilty at the arraignment. And your only chance of getting that from me is to go after Natalie.”
Tori gasped. “That’s enough, Beau! Not another word until we’ve had a chance to talk! Sheriff, this is highly irregular! I strongly object—”
“Be still, Tori.” Beau’s voice was gentle but firm. “Otherwise I’ll have no choice but to fire you.”
