Stone settled behind his desk and studied her with the patient attention of a predator assessing prey.
“You know,” Stone began, leaning back in his leather chair, “we don’t get many visitors in Desert Springs.”
Beverly said nothing.
“Especially visitors who pay for groceries with credit cards connected to federal accounts.”
Beverly felt her heart rate rise.
Her cover identity used legitimate accounts.
Tracing them to federal sources required a level of access that no small-town sheriff should have possessed.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Sheriff.”
Stone smiled.
The expression never reached his eyes.
“Special Agent Beverly Shaw.”
Beverly remained still.
“Federal Bureau of Investigation. Criminal Investigative Division.”
He continued.
“Badge number 2847. Phoenix Field Office.”
Beverly felt the floor disappear beneath her.
Her cover wasn’t merely blown.
It had been systematically dismantled.
She made a calculated decision.
When a cover was compromised, controlled offense could be safer than continued denial.
“If you know who I am, Sheriff, then you know you’re making a serious mistake.”
Stone watched her.
“I’m a federal agent conducting an authorized investigation. This arrest is going to create problems for everyone involved.”
Stone laughed.
This time, it sounded genuinely amused.
“Agent Shaw, you seem to be under the impression that your federal credentials carry some magical power inside my jurisdiction.”
Beverly straightened.
“Federal law supersedes local authority. You know that.”
“Does it?”
Stone stood and walked toward the window.
He looked across the desert.
“That’s where you federal people always get confused.”
Beverly watched him carefully.
“You think jurisdiction is a line in a law book.”
Stone turned slightly.
“Out here, jurisdiction is relationships.”
“Trust.”
“Knowing who can be counted on when things become complicated.”
As Stone spoke, Beverly carefully activated the emergency recording function on her phone.
It was a Bureau-issued device designed to preserve evidence remotely if necessary.
“We’ve known about your investigation for three days, Agent Shaw.”
Beverly kept her expression neutral.
“We know about your room at the Desert Inn.”
Stone continued.
“We know about your rental car.”
“We know about your meetings with a confidential source in Phoenix.”
He turned back toward her.
“What you don’t seem to understand is that your operation was compromised from the beginning.”
Stone’s face became serious.
“Here’s what happens next.”
He returned to his desk.
“You get processed on the possession charge.”
“You plead guilty before this becomes a public trial.”
“You serve whatever sentence is necessary.”
His gaze hardened.
“And when you get out, you forget you ever heard the words Desert Springs, Arizona.”
Beverly forced herself to remain calm.
“And if I refuse?”
Stone smiled again.
Cold.
Predatory.
“Agent Shaw, people disappear in the desert every day.”
He let that statement sit between them.
“Federal credentials don’t make the desert less empty.”
Stone opened a manila folder.
He spread photographs across his desk.
Beverly recognized aerial images of remote desert sites.
Vehicles she had been tracking.
People she had identified as possible suspects.
“Recognize these?”
Stone tapped one photograph.
“Patterson Ranch.”