The sheriff's radio crackled.
Cole turned toward it instinctively, grateful for an interruption that might allow him to regain control of the room.
“Unit Twelve, status check.”
The voice belonged to a dispatcher at the county communications center.
Cole lifted the radio.
“Unit Twelve. I'm handling a situation.”
“Copy. Do you require assistance?”
“No.”
He released the transmit button.
Daniel looked at him.
“Now would be an appropriate time to contact federal authorities.”
Cole ignored the suggestion.
Instead, he removed a small notepad from his pocket and began writing Daniel's name. His handwriting was heavier than usual, the pen pressing hard enough to leave marks on the paper beneath it.
“What is your purpose in this county?” he asked.
Daniel answered carefully.
“I am here to review a federal matter.”
“What matter?”
“I am not discussing the details of an official investigation with you in a diner.”
Cole smiled without warmth.
“So you admit you're hiding something.”
“No. I am explaining the limits of what I can disclose in this setting.”
“You think you're above questioning?”
“I'm willing to answer lawful questions. I'm not required to satisfy every demand simply because you make it.”
Ethan watched the sheriff's expression change again.
The young deputy knew that Cole was looking for a sentence he could use to justify the detention. Something that could be interpreted as suspicious behavior, refusal to cooperate, or an admission that Daniel was concealing a crime.
But Daniel was giving him nothing of the sort.
Every answer was measured.
Every statement was precise.
Cole eventually shoved the notepad into his pocket.
“Fine. We'll do this the hard way.”
He pulled his phone from his belt and stepped toward the front windows. For several seconds, he stared at the screen without dialing.
Ethan approached cautiously.
“Sheriff, I can contact the communications center and request verification through the official channel.”
Cole looked at him.
“Why are you so determined to get involved?”
“Because the situation requires verification.”
“You've said that already.”
“And I still believe it.”
Cole stepped closer.
“You're making a serious mistake by choosing his side.”
Ethan's voice remained quiet.
“I'm not choosing his side. I'm choosing to document what happened.”
The sheriff's jaw tightened.
He turned away and finally made a call to the county office. He demanded to speak with someone who could confirm whether a federal director was conducting business in the area.
The person who answered asked for the identification details.
Cole provided Daniel's name, title, and the number printed on the card.
Then he waited.
At first, he looked irritated. After thirty seconds, he began pacing. After another minute, he returned to the booth and stared at Daniel as if the director had personally arranged the delay.
“Why is this taking so long?” he muttered.
Daniel did not answer.
The phone finally rang.
Cole snatched it up.
“Yes?”
The voice on the other end asked him to repeat the information. Cole did so, his impatience increasing with every question.
Then the person requested that he remain on the line while the credentials were checked through the appropriate federal contact.
Cole's face grew tense.
“I'm a county sheriff,” he snapped. “I don't have all morning.”
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What do you mean, you can't confirm it through this office?”
Another pause.
Then the call ended.
Cole stared at the phone.
He had expected immediate confirmation, or perhaps a clear reason to dismiss the identification as false. Instead, he had been instructed to use a designated federal verification process.
The delay offered him no relief.
Ethan spoke carefully.
“That sounds like the proper channel, sir.”
Cole turned.
“Do you ever stop talking?”
“No, sir.”
The answer surprised both of them.
Ethan took a breath.
“I mean, I can stop talking. But I can't pretend the procedure doesn't matter.”
Daniel watched the exchange without intervening.
He understood the deputy's position. A young officer could be punished for challenging a superior even when the challenge was justified. The director had seen that dynamic in departments across the country, and he knew that the consequences of speaking up could extend far beyond a single shift.
That was one reason he had insisted on keeping the interaction calm.
He wanted the truth recorded without giving anyone a legitimate reason to claim that he had provoked violence.
Cole returned to the booth.
“I've contacted the county office. They're checking your story.”
“Thank you.”
The sheriff seemed offended by the polite response.
“Don't thank me yet.”
“I wasn't thanking you for detaining me. I was acknowledging that verification is finally underway.”
Cole looked toward the handcuffs.
“You're still under my authority until I decide otherwise.”
Daniel's expression became serious.
“Sheriff, I have been cooperative throughout this encounter. I have provided identification, answered your questions, and requested that you follow the appropriate procedure. You now have an official document bearing my name and title.”
He paused.
“You also have a witness and a deputy who can describe what happened.”
Cole said nothing.
“Continuing to hold me without establishing a lawful basis is not making your position stronger.”
For several seconds, the sheriff appeared to consider releasing him.
Then the radio crackled again.
Cole seized it, grateful for another distraction.
But the next message would make the situation considerably worse.