Debra Webb - Physical Evidence

Mitch leaned back in his chair, cocked his head and stared right back at Ashton. “I guess I forgot to mention the new evidence we discovered last night.”

Alex’s expression fell; Ashton’s grew wary.

“What evidence?” he demanded with a little less conviction.

“A high-powered rifle, complete with sound suppressor, was found in the hotel room Alex used. It was hidden beneath the mattress.”

She shook her head. “That can’t be.”

“It’s a setup.” Zach shook a finger in Mitch’s direction. “And you know it.”

Mitch stood. He pressed his palms against his desktop and leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Ashton’s. “Maybe it is a setup. Alex certainly appears to have no motivation for whatever the hell is going on here. But that’s beside the point. I have every intention of getting to the bottom of this one way or another.” He turned his attention to Alex then. “I will have your full cooperation.”

“Absolutely.” Her gaze never wavered. “It’s in my best interest as well as my client’s.”

Mitch shifted his focus back to Ashton. “And we’ll do things my way.”

Before Ashton could respond, the door to Mitch’s office swung inward. Dixon stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Sheriff, Peg stepped out a minute. And you’ve got an urgent call on line two. It’s Detective Wells from Davidson County.”

Mitch snatched up the receiver as Dixon pulled the door closed behind him. “Hayden.” Dammit. He didn’t need any interruptions right now.

“Hey, Mitch. Wells here. You have an Alex Preston in protective custody in regards to the Miller case?”

“That’s right.” Mitch ignored the rapt attention focused on him from across the desk. What the hell was this about? Alex hadn’t been out of his sight all night.

“We’ve got what looks like a suicide up here. We found a business card for Preston in the woman’s room,” Wells added. “I think maybe you’d better come have a look.” He rattled off the location.

“What’s the victim’s name?” Mitch stiffened when he heard it. “I’ll be there in half an hour.” He dropped the receiver back into its cradle and settled his gaze on Alex’s expectant one. “Your client no longer has an interest in this case, Ms. Preston.”

“What are you saying?” Uncertainty flickered in her amber eyes.

“Jasna Bukovak is dead.”

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