"I don't know."
"Why does he have a recording of you threatening a detainee?"
Mercer looked up.
The sheriff's expression was almost expressionless.
"I didn't know he was recording."
"That isn't an answer."
"He had his hands cuffed. I checked his pockets."
"Did you check his clothing?"
"Yes."
"Then how did he record you?"
Mercer said nothing.
Hollister walked back to the desk.
"You're telling me an old man walked into this station, got arrested, got questioned, and somehow managed to record everything while you were standing three feet away from him?"
Mercer clenched his jaw.
"I said I didn't know."
Hollister leaned forward.
"Do you understand what you've done?"
"I was trying to get information."
"You assaulted him."
"He was being difficult."
"That is not a defense."
Mercer looked toward the door.
Hollister noticed.
"Don't even think about leaving."
The deputy looked back.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing. You do nothing. You don't speak to anyone, you don't make calls, and you don't touch the recording system."
Mercer swallowed.
"What about the federal people?"
"They can ask whatever questions they want. We give them the minimum required by law."
"They have the recording."
"I know."
"Then what are we supposed to say?"
Hollister stared at him.
"That the recording doesn't show the entire interaction."
"It shows me pushing him."
"Then we establish why."
"He was already in the chair."
"Then we establish that he was resisting."
Mercer looked uncomfortable.
"He wasn't."
Hollister's eyes hardened.
"Do you want to keep your job?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then stop talking."
The sheriff turned toward his computer.
He opened a secure folder and entered a password.
The screen displayed several documents.
One was a spreadsheet containing vehicle numbers, dates, and delivery locations. Another contained a list of names. A third was a scanned invoice from a private security company.
Hollister stared at the screen.
The missing equipment investigation had become a serious problem long before Walter Hayes walked into his station.
It had begun with a contractor named Adrian Pike.
Pike owned North Ridge Security Solutions, a company that provided equipment transportation and site protection for government contractors. He had hired several former military personnel and local law enforcement officers over the years.
His company had once been a respectable operation.
Then the contracts grew larger.
The equipment became more valuable.
And the records became less complete.
Hollister had initially helped Pike with routine matters. He provided information about local road closures, patrol schedules, and temporary security arrangements. In return, Pike had paid for equipment upgrades at the sheriff's office and donated money to local community projects.
The arrangement had seemed harmless.
Until Pike asked him to do something different.
A shipment had gone missing.
A driver had reported an unauthorized vehicle near the storage facility.
The company needed to know whether anyone had seen it.
Hollister had checked the report.
Then he had made a call.
That call had led to a second payment.
And after that, the requests became harder to refuse.
He had helped delay a complaint. He had instructed deputies not to pursue certain vehicles. He had allowed Pike's security personnel to use a county storage building temporarily.
He had told himself the arrangement was protecting the county.
Now he was beginning to understand that it had protected something else.
Hollister closed the folder.
"Mercer."
"Yes?"
"Who else knows about the warehouse?"
"Just the people who were there."
"Names."
Mercer hesitated.
"Deputy Lane. Me. The night supervisor."
"Anyone else?"
"Maybe the dispatcher."
Hollister stared at him.
"Maybe?"
"She logged the vehicle."
The sheriff rubbed his forehead.
"Get me the dispatch records."
"I thought you said not to touch anything."
"I said don't touch the interview recordings. Get the dispatch records."
Mercer stood.
Hollister stopped him.
"And Cole?"
"Yes?"
"If anyone asks, you never saw that truck."
Mercer nodded.
But when he left the office, he did not look convinced.
At 8:17 p.m., a black government sedan entered Pine Ridge County.
Commander Tessa Hayes was sitting in the passenger seat.
She wore her Navy uniform, but her jacket was folded beside her. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and a small notebook rested on her lap.
She had received Walter's message at 7:31.
It had contained only five words.
Hollister. Interview room. Recording active.
Tessa had immediately contacted her commanding officer and the appropriate investigative liaison. She had not ordered anyone to arrest the sheriff. She had not threatened the county department. She had not attempted to use her rank to interfere with a civilian investigation.
Instead, she had followed the procedures established for a potential assault involving a person connected to an ongoing federal inquiry.
The first call went to her command legal office.
The second went to Daniel Cross.
The third went to her father.
He did not answer.
That was what frightened her most.
Walter was not someone who ignored calls without a reason.