Vanessa could not hear their conversation.
She did not try.
Her attention returned to the highway.
Pine trees crowded both shoulders.
A narrow gravel access road disappeared into the woods several hundred yards ahead.
That road had appeared repeatedly in the federal investigation.
It connected to a former agricultural storage property.
The property had been closed for years.
Yet vehicles continued using its entrance after dark.
Several drivers had reported being stopped nearby.
Some described aggressive questioning.
Others reported searches without clear explanations.
Two claimed cash had disappeared during encounters with deputies.
The allegations had not yet been proven.
Vanessa's assignment was to examine the pattern without revealing the investigation.
The Bugatti was part of that plan.
Its extraordinary value made it conspicuous.
Its registration and ownership were legitimate.
The vehicle was being used with authorization as part of the operation.
Vanessa had expected attention.
She had not expected a shattered window.
She looked at the broken glass scattered across the driver's seat.
The recording device inside the vehicle remained active.
Its small blinking light was reassuring.
But she knew recordings could show only what their equipment captured.
They did not automatically explain motive.
They did not identify everyone involved.
They did not prove a conspiracy simply because an encounter looked suspicious.
That work would require evidence.
And evidence required patience.
Reed returned with Briggs.
“Agent Morgan, I've asked Deputy Mercer to remain on site.”
“Thank you.”
“I also requested an outside supervisor to respond.”
“From your department?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“Are you aware of any federal investigation involving this highway?”
Reed's expression remained controlled.
“No, ma'am.”
“Have there been complaints about traffic stops in this area?”
He paused.
“I've heard concerns.”
“What kind?”
“I'd rather not speculate.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Reed looked toward the access road.
“People have complained about aggressive enforcement.”
“Have those complaints been investigated?”
“Some were reviewed.”
“And the findings?”
“I don't have those records with me.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Then we'll request them formally.”
Reed did not object.
But she noticed that his attention kept returning to the gravel road.
“Sergeant, is something happening down there?”
He looked at her.
“Not that I'm aware of.”
“Do your deputies regularly patrol that property?”
“It's private land.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Reed closed his notebook.
“I can provide you with the patrol assignments.”
Vanessa accepted the answer.
For now.
A white county ambulance arrived ten minutes later.
Two paramedics examined the scratches on Vanessa's hand and checked for glass near her face.
The injuries were minor.
She declined transportation.
One paramedic gently cleaned the cut and applied a small adhesive dressing.
“You're fortunate,” he said.
Vanessa looked at the broken window.
“Someone else might not have been.”
The paramedic glanced toward Mercer.
He did not respond.
When the examination ended, Vanessa returned to the roadside.
Her phone vibrated.
Foster had sent a message.
Federal personnel were approaching.
She replied with a brief acknowledgment.
Then she looked toward Briggs.
He was standing alone beside the second patrol car.
His shoulders were rigid.
His gaze remained fixed on the gravel access road.
Vanessa approached.
“Deputy Briggs.”
He turned quickly.
“Yes, ma'am?”
“You seem worried.”
“It's been a difficult afternoon.”
“I imagine it has.”
He looked at her bandaged hand.
“I'm sorry about what happened.”
“Were you responsible for breaking the window?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you are sorry for.”
Briggs swallowed.
“For not stopping him sooner.”
Vanessa studied him.
That was the first thing he had said that sounded entirely spontaneous.
“Why didn't you?”
Briggs glanced toward Mercer.
“He's the senior deputy.”
“Does that make his decisions correct?”
“No.”
“Then why did you wait?”
Briggs lowered his voice.
“Because people who challenge him don't last long here.”
Vanessa felt the conversation change.
“Is that something you've experienced?”
Briggs looked toward Reed.
Then back at Vanessa.
“I shouldn't have said that.”
“You can choose whether to explain.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I have a family.”
Vanessa nodded.
“So do many people who get stopped on this road.”
The words affected him.
His expression tightened.
He looked toward the gravel entrance again.
Vanessa followed his gaze.
A dark pickup truck had appeared near the trees.
It paused at the entrance.
Then it reversed and disappeared.
Briggs watched until it was gone.
Vanessa turned back.
“Did you recognize that vehicle?”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
She did not accuse him.
Instead, she asked another question.
“Did you see its license plate?”
“Not clearly.”
“Was it part of your department?”
“I don't know.”
Vanessa allowed the silence to remain.
Briggs shifted.
“Agent Morgan, you need to be careful.”
“About what?”
He looked over his shoulder.
“About assuming this is only about Kyle.”
Before Vanessa could respond, Reed called him back.
Briggs walked away.
Vanessa remained beside the Bugatti.
The warning was vague.
It might have been genuine.
It might have been an attempt to make himself seem useful.
She would not treat it as proof.
But she would remember it.
A black federal SUV appeared from the south.
It stopped behind Reed's vehicle.
Two agents stepped out.
One was a woman in her forties with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail.
The other was a tall man carrying a compact evidence case.
Vanessa recognized both.
Special Agent Claire Bennett approached first.
“Vanessa.”
“Claire.”
Bennett looked at the broken window.
“Foster said there was property damage.”
“He was being diplomatic.”
The second agent, Michael Torres, examined the glass scattered along the roadside.
“That's quite a lot of diplomacy.”
Vanessa almost smiled.
Bennett noticed the bandage.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Did they know who you were?”
“Not until after the window was broken.”
Bennett looked toward Mercer.
He stood beside his cruiser, watching them.
“Which one?”
“The one trying not to look at us.”
Torres opened his evidence case.
“We'll document the vehicle and coordinate collection.”
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“The onboard system captured the stop.”
“Good.”
“There's more.”
Bennett waited.
“Briggs seemed frightened before we identified the investigation. He also warned me this might involve more than Mercer.”
“Did he explain?”
“No.”
“Do you trust him?”