Cold Wind - C. J. Box [21]
McLanahan had missed the show, however, and was clearing his throat so the reporters would look back his way. When they did, he displayed the .30-30 and said, “Although we still need to run it through ballistics to verify it beyond doubt, we believe this is the rifle that was used to murder Earl Alden.”
Joe squinted. He’d seen the rifle before, or one that looked a lot like it, in The Earl’s antique-gun cabinet.
For the cameras, the sheriff worked the lever of the rifle, ejecting a spent cartridge case that was quickly gathered up by Sollis and placed in a paper evidence bag. Then McLanahan gestured toward the GMC: “And there, we believe, is the woman who pulled the trigger. Missy Alden killed her husband with this rifle.”
“Allegedly,” Dulcie Schalk corrected.
“Allegedly,” McLanahan echoed with slight irritation. “And then she allegedly hoisted her husband’s body to the top of one of his new wind turbines and rigged it up to the blade so it would spin around until it was discovered.”
With that, McLanahan handed the rifle off to Sollis, who took it away. He put his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels in his well-practiced I’m-the-law-in-these-here-parts stance. “I’d like to publicly recognize and salute the efficiency and professionalism of my team here at the Twelve Sleep County Sheriff’s Department for their prompt and thorough investigation, which led to the arrest of . . .”
Joe tuned out as the briefing turned into a “Reelect Sheriff Kyle McLanahan” stump speech. The county attorney approached him and stood there until he noticed her.
“I wish he wasn’t so blatant,” Schalk whispered to Joe under her breath. “He’s grandstanding. Tainting the jury pool . . .”
“Do you have a minute?” Joe asked.
He led her away from the press conference, but noted she didn’t want to go so far that she couldn’t interject again if McLanahan’s statements got out of hand.
“We need to make this short,” she said. “I’m not sure I should be talking to you. Don’t you have an interest in this case?”
“She’s my mother-in-law,” Joe said.
“I know. So understand that anything I tell you is purely for public consumption. It’s the same thing I’ll tell the press. Nothing more, Joe. No inside information, so don’t put me on the spot. This is a delicate situation.”
“I realize that,” he said, glancing over her shoulder. He could see the side of Missy’s head through the window of the GMC. Missy stared straight ahead now that the cameras had swiveled to McLanahan. She seemed to have shed her pathetic persona as easily as Joe removed a jacket.
“Where was the rifle found?” Joe asked.
“Under the seat of her car. She drives the Hummer, right? That’s her personal vehicle.”
Joe nodded. The Hummer was constantly blocking his driveway so he either couldn’t get in or out. Usually with the motor running.
She said, “The tracks we found out on the ranch where we think the murder took place appear to match up with the tires on the Hummer. Our team couldn’t explain why we couldn’t find a spent cartridge on the ground until we found the gun and realized the casing hadn’t been ejected but was still in the gun. Plus, her fingerprints were all over the rifle itself.”
“So the tipster even knew where the crime took place.”
“I’m not going there,” she said.
Joe took that in. “McLanahan didn’t mention an accomplice.”
“That I can’t tell you,” Schalk said. “Not yet.”
“So you’ve got the tipster secured,” Joe said, fishing. “And you’ve got his statement.”
“Joe,” she said, exasperated.
“Okay, okay. But this whole thing seems so . . . pat.”
“It is what it is, Joe. I have nothing against your mother-in-law, and neither does the sheriff.”
“Except she’s quite a big prize,” Joe said. “And she isn’t exactly the most popular woman in the country, that’s for sure. Believe me, I know about that. Hauling her in like this will give McLanahan a big boost in popularity. Some folks love to see the high and mighty taken down just for being high and mighty.”
Schalk nodded, “I’ve heard some things, and you have my word I’ll do what I can to keep this