The sheriff strolled over to the table and settled into a chair. Dave put his briefcase on the desk and joined him. “How can I help you?”

“I’m following up on an anonymous tip that came into our office. Are you acquainted with Mavis Templeton and Fred Wilson?”

Any hope that this visit was unrelated to BK’s scheme evaporated.

Despite the surge in his pulse, he somehow managed to hang on to a neutral expression as he folded his hands on the table and debated how to respond.

It was possible the sheriff didn’t know for certain he had a connection to either Mavis or Fred, but if Cox had linked them lying would be a mistake.

He’d have to tell the truth.

The bigger question was who had called in the tip. Since his access to the offshore account had been cut off, it could be BK. His tormentor’s threat to create problems in his life hadn’t been idle. And if Lee was BK, she had an ax to grind on more than one front.

Yet siccing law enforcement on him carried risk. Why would BK do that?

But if BK wasn’t behind this visit, who was?

“Mr. Mullins?”

At the sheriff’s prompt, he refocused. “Sorry. I don’t usually answer questions like that. Financial matters are confidential and sensitive, and a certain amount of discretion is expected by my clients. Is this a crime-related query that would supersede privacy considerations?”

Cox leaned back in his chair, posture relaxed, manner friendly—but his gaze was probing and razor sharp. “I don’t think either Mavis or Fred would object to my inquiry. They’re both dead.”

The sheriff hadn’t answered his question. And now he was waiting for a reaction to his comment about their deaths.

Stick with the truth as much as possible, Dave. There’s no point in feigning ignorance about their fates.

“That’s true.” He maintained a mild tone. “As a matter of fact, I did business with both of them. In a rural area like this, the choices are limited for people in need of insurance or investment advice. I’ve carved out a niche in the market, thanks to my solid reputation. Most of my clients are referrals.” It couldn’t hurt to remind the sheriff he was a well-respected businessman.

“The anonymous caller suggested I talk to you about their deaths.”

“Why?”

“I was hoping you could answer that question.”

He tried to keep breathing. “Is this an insurance matter? If so, I could check my files.”

“It could be. Or it may be more than that. The caller wasn’t specific in terms of the information you might have.” The sheriff crossed an ankle over a knee. “Both of the deaths have suspicious elements.”

The word Kimberly hated ricocheted through his mind as the club sandwich he’d scarfed down at the Spotted Hen an hour ago churned in his stomach.

Hold it together. Stay calm. This has to be a fishing expedition. If Cox had any definite evidence, he’d be asking more pointed questions.