Hollister was broad-shouldered, with short gray hair and a face that rarely revealed what he was thinking. He had been sheriff of Pine Ridge County for seventeen years. In that time, he had built a reputation as a man who could make problems disappear.
The sheriff looked at Walter.
Then he looked at the blood on his face.
"What's going on here?"
The suited man did not answer immediately.
He pulled out a chair and sat opposite Walter.
"Mr. Hayes?"
Walter nodded.
"My name is Daniel Cross. I'm with the federal investigative team assigned to the equipment investigation we discussed."
Hollister's eyes narrowed.
"What investigation?"
Cross placed a document on the table.
"That's not something I intend to discuss with you until I establish the circumstances of Mr. Hayes's detention."
Hollister gave a short laugh.
"This is a county facility. You don't walk into my station and start issuing demands."
"I'm not issuing demands."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Preserving evidence."
The sheriff looked at Walter again.
"Evidence of what?"
Cross opened his folder.
"That's what we're here to determine."
Hollister stepped closer to the table.
"Mr. Hayes was arrested for interfering with an investigation. He was brought here for questioning. That's all."
Cross glanced at Walter's wrists.
"Why is he still handcuffed behind his back?"
"Because he's a suspect."
"Is he under arrest?"
"Yes."
"Has he been formally booked?"
Hollister did not answer immediately.
Cross looked at the document in front of him.
"Has he been informed of the charges?"
"That's none of your business."
"It becomes my business when a federal witness is being detained in connection with an active investigation."
The sheriff's expression hardened.
"Federal witness?"
Walter finally spoke.
"That's what I was trying to explain to Deputy Mercer."
Hollister turned toward him.
"Keep your mouth shut."
Cross did not move, but his voice became colder.
"Don't speak to him that way."
The sheriff stared at him.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
For a moment, the room seemed smaller.
Hollister had spent years dealing with people who lowered their eyes when he entered a room. He was not accustomed to being challenged by strangers, especially in his own station.
He pointed toward the door.
"Deputy!"
The young deputy who had checked on Walter appeared.
"Yes, Sheriff?"
"Get this man out of here."
Cross reached into his jacket and removed an identification card.
"Before you do that, I suggest you read this."
He placed it on the table.
Hollister glanced down.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for someone unfamiliar with him to notice.
But Walter noticed.
The sheriff's eyes moved from the identification card to the document, then to Cross.
"You're federal?"
"Yes."
"Which agency?"
Cross answered.
Hollister looked at the badge again.
Then he stepped back.
"Why wasn't I informed?"
"Because the investigation does not require your department to be informed of every interview."
"You're conducting an investigation in my county."
"Correct."
"Then I should know about it."
Cross closed the folder.
"You should have been informed if your department was not part of the matter under investigation."
The sheriff's jaw tightened.
"Are you accusing my department of something?"
"I'm not making accusations in this room."
Cross turned to Walter.
"Mr. Hayes, can you tell me whether you have been physically harmed since your detention?"
Walter looked at the sheriff.
Then at Cross.
"Yes."
"By whom?"
"Deputy Mercer."
Hollister immediately interrupted.
"That's a lie."
Cross raised one hand.
"Let him finish."
Walter continued.
"He grabbed my jacket, pushed me into the table, struck my head against the wall, and threatened to leave me on the floor if I didn't answer questions."
Hollister shook his head.
"He's exaggerating."
Cross looked toward the observation window.
"Is the interview room recording system operational?"
"Of course it is."
"Then preserve the footage."
"Already preserved."
"Good. Preserve the access logs, the original recordings, and every backup copy. Do not allow anyone to overwrite, edit, or delete anything."
Hollister's eyes narrowed.
"You're acting like something happened here."
Cross looked directly at him.
"Something did happen here."
He reached into his folder and placed a small black device on the table.
It was a recording transmitter.
Walter recognized it immediately.
Cross pressed a button.
A small indicator light blinked.
Then he turned the device toward the sheriff.
"Would you like to hear what we have?"
Hollister did not answer.
Cross pressed play.
The room filled with the sound of Mercer shouting.
"You're going to tell me what you know, and you're going to tell me now."
Then came the scrape of the chair.
A heavy impact.
Walter's gasp.
Mercer's voice again.
"You're going to regret saying that."
The recording continued.
Every word.
Every threat.
Every movement.
Hollister's face became rigid.
Cross stopped the recording.
"That is one recording."
He placed another device beside the first.
"This is another."
Hollister stared at it.
"What is this?"
"A secondary recording source."
"Where did you get it?"
"From Mr. Hayes."
The sheriff slowly turned toward Walter.