Cold Wind - C. J. Box [22]
“Lucky you,” Joe said. Then: “So the theory is she shot The Earl and hung his body from that wind turbine?”
Schalk eyed him closely, paused, then said, “That’s our working theory right now.”
Joe took off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. “Have you seen a turbine up close? How high it is? And hang his body up in public? What was that supposed to accomplish?”
“Maybe to throw us off the trail,” she said. “Alden was a very controversial figure as well. He had plenty of enemies, and you know that wind farm of his hasn’t been popular with some of his neighbors.”
Joe was aware of some of the complaints, particularly those from ranchers Bob and Dode Lee. They hated Rope the Wind, and especially the new transmission lines planned to be built across their ranch, which Alden had arranged by getting a swath of their land condemned by eminent domain.
“Are you gonna talk to the Lees?” Joe asked.
“Joe, please.”
He said, “So the first part of the theory is a crime of passion was committed, probably without premeditation, since she didn’t get rid of the rifle or even wipe it down. But the second part is a conspiracy designed to throw everyone off the track.”
She nodded her head, but Joe saw a glimmer of doubt in her eyes when he put it like that.
“Okay,” he said. “I won’t ask anything more about the internal investigation because you can’t tell me. But I’ve got to wonder about motive. I know Missy, believe me. I know what she’s like. And it took her a lifetime of trading up to finally hit the jackpot.” He gestured toward the mansion-in-progress on the river bluff. “Why would she risk that, and all of this? This is what she always wanted.”
Dulcie Schalk’s eyebrows arched and she started to answer, then apparently thought better of it.
“So you’ve got a motive, then?” Joe said, surprised.
“Not that I can speak about yet,” she said. “But I’m comfortable enough with what we know so far to press charges.”
“Wow,” Joe said. “Wow. You’ve got enough that you really think she’s guilty.”
“I think we better go back to the press conference,” Schalk said. She turned away, then stopped, and looked back at Joe.
“If I were you,” she said gently, “I would stay away from this and keep your head down. I’m not saying that as a threat, Joe. I’m not like McLanahan. But this is from me, because I like you and I’m close to Marybeth, as you know. This is a solid case, Joe. I’m approaching it with even more caution than usual. I don’t want you to go out there and embarrass yourself, and I don’t want us to be in a situation where we’re butting heads. But so far, and this I can say, it doesn’t look good for your mother-in-law. Not at all.”
Joe said, “I’ve had a fantasy about this over the years, I have to admit.”
Schalk smiled. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“And I shouldn’t have said it.” He felt ashamed. Then: “Did she admit anything?”
“You’ll have to take that up with her lawyer.”
“She’s already lawyered up?”
“Yes. She’s retained Marcus Hand, and he advised her not to say a word until he gets here.”
Joe was rocked. “Marcus Hand? You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were,” Schalk said.
Marcus Hand was a Wyoming legend, and was known nationally through his years of cable television legal punditry. Tall, whitemaned, brilliant, and given to Stetsons and fringed buckskin clothing, Hand had won millions for clients (and himself) in tort cases against pharmaceutical companies and doctors, as well as securing innocent verdicts for scores of notorious, but wealthy, clients in criminal proceedings. Joe had not met Marcus Hand personally, but he’d been in the courtroom for a case in Jackson Hole where Hand had persuaded the jury that the developer Joe was certain had killed his wife was not guilty.
“I’m looking forward to going up against him,” Schalk said.
“You are?”
“Like I said, we’ve got a strong case. And he needs to get knocked down a peg.”
Joe thought, You poor tough, but naïve, girl.
He could see