“This is getting ridiculous. Deputy, secure the bag and get her identification.”
ETHAN MILLER:
“Sheriff, we already have her identification.”
VICTOR HAYES:
“Then get the rest of her belongings.”
ETHAN MILLER:
“Do we have legal grounds to keep searching?”
Hayes stared at him.
VICTOR HAYES:
“Are you questioning my orders?”
ETHAN MILLER:
“I'm asking what authority we're acting under.”
For a moment, the two officers stood facing each other.
Ethan had worked under Hayes for nearly three years. He had learned when to speak, when to remain silent, and when to look away. The sheriff had a reputation for punishing officers who questioned him.
But what had happened in the diner was different.
There were too many witnesses. Too many people had seen the assault. And the woman standing in front of him was not someone whose identity could be dismissed with a careless remark.
Natalie slowly straightened her blazer.
NATALIE BROOKS:
“I want the name of the officer who authorized this stop, the dispatch record, and the incident report.”
VICTOR HAYES:
“You're not in a position to demand anything.”
NATALIE BROOKS:
“I'm asking you to follow the same procedures you claim to enforce.”
Hayes laughed, but the sound was forced.
VICTOR HAYES:
“You think that badge gives you the right to walk into my county and tell me how to do my job?”
NATALIE BROOKS:
“No. Your own policies should tell you how to do your job.”
She paused, looking at the badge on the table.
NATALIE BROOKS:
“And your badge should remind you of the responsibility that comes with it.”
Nobody spoke.
Outside, a pickup truck slowed near the diner entrance. Its driver looked through the window before continuing down the highway.
Inside, Hayes began pacing beside the booth.
He knew he needed to make a decision. If he released Natalie immediately, the witnesses would still have seen what he had done. If he continued detaining her, he risked making the situation considerably worse.
He reached for his radio.
VICTOR HAYES:
“Dispatch, this is Hayes. I need a supervisor at the Kettle & Comb.”
A burst of static answered him.
DISPATCH:
“Copy, Sheriff. What's the situation?”
VICTOR HAYES:
“We have a situation involving a federal judicial officer.”
Natalie raised her eyebrows slightly.
NATALIE BROOKS:
“Interesting. You seem to recognize my position now.”
Hayes ignored her.
DISPATCH:
“Can you clarify the nature of the incident?”
VICTOR HAYES:
“I'll explain when the supervisor gets here.”
He lowered the radio.
Ethan looked uncomfortable.
ETHAN MILLER:
“Sheriff, maybe we should request medical assistance for her cheek.”
NATALIE BROOKS:
“I don't need you to make this look better than it was.”
ETHAN MILLER:
“I wasn't trying to—”
NATALIE BROOKS:
“I understand. But what I need right now is an accurate record.”
She turned toward the customers.
NATALIE BROOKS:
“If anyone recorded what happened, please preserve the original footage. Don't edit it, don't delete it, and don't send it through multiple people. Keep the original file.”
Walter nodded.
WALTER BENNETT:
“I have a recording from the moment he started shouting.”
Martha looked toward the security monitor.
MARTHA COLLINS:
“We have cameras too. There's one facing the booths and another covering the entrance.”
Hayes immediately turned toward her.
VICTOR HAYES:
“Those cameras belong to the restaurant.”
PATRICIA LEWIS, the owner, stepped out from the kitchen.
PATRICIA LEWIS:
“And I decide what happens to the recordings.”
Hayes looked at her.
VICTOR HAYES:
“You'd better think carefully before getting involved.”
PATRICIA LEWIS:
“I've run this diner for twenty years. I know what my cameras record, and I know what happened in my restaurant.”
She walked behind the counter and checked the recording system.
Patricia's hands were shaking, but she moved carefully through the security menu.
PATRICIA LEWIS:
“The footage is still here.”
NATALIE BROOKS:
“Please make sure it is preserved.”
PATRICIA LEWIS:
“I will.”
Hayes stepped toward the counter.
VICTOR HAYES:
“You're not handing over anything without a proper request.”
PATRICIA LEWIS:
“I haven't handed anything over. I'm protecting my own records.”
The sheriff stopped.
He looked at the customers again. The room had changed. When he first entered, everyone had treated him as the most powerful person in the building. Now, every person seemed to be watching his next move.
His radio crackled again.
DISPATCH:
“Sheriff Hayes, Lieutenant Carter is responding. ETA approximately ten minutes.”
VICTOR HAYES:
“Copy.”
He turned toward Ethan.
VICTOR HAYES: