He had already decided that she was being disrespectful.
He reached toward her plate.
Before Elena could react, Mercer grabbed the entire dish and threw the food directly into her face.
The meal scattered across her hair, cheeks, and cream blouse. Pieces of food landed on the table and the red leather seat. Her fork fell to the floor with a metallic clatter.
The diner went silent.
Elena sat motionless for a moment, stunned by what had just happened.
Sarah covered her mouth behind the counter.
An elderly customer turned around in disbelief.
Mercer looked down at Elena as though he had just demonstrated who was in control.
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "Maybe now you'll learn some respect."
Elena slowly raised a hand and wiped food from her cheek.
She looked directly at him.
ELENA HAYES: "What exactly is wrong with you?"
The sheriff's expression tightened.
He stepped closer and delivered a sharp open-handed slap across her face.
Elena's head turned to the side.
The sound echoed through the diner.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Elena slowly turned back toward him. Her cheek was beginning to redden, and strands of her dark-blonde hair had fallen across her face.
She did not scream.
She did not attempt to strike him.
Instead, she looked at him with a level of disbelief that made his behavior seem even more disturbing.
ELENA HAYES: "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Mercer gave a dismissive laugh.
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "I know exactly who I'm dealing with."
ELENA HAYES: "No. You don't."
He pointed toward her.
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "Stand up."
Elena remained seated.
ELENA HAYES: "Am I being detained?"
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "You're going to answer my questions."
ELENA HAYES: "Then ask them."
Mercer glanced toward the entrance.
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "Blake! Get over here!"
A few seconds later, Deputy Owen Blake entered the diner.
Owen was twenty-nine years old, with short dark-brown hair, a clean-shaven face, and a neatly pressed navy-black uniform. His silver deputy badge was attached to his chest, and his expression was serious as he approached the sheriff.
He had worked under Mercer for several years.
He knew that his superior disliked being questioned, especially in front of other people.
But the scene in front of him was difficult to ignore.
Elena was sitting in a booth with food scattered across her clothes. The sheriff stood beside her, pointing aggressively. A plate lay near the edge of the table.
Owen looked at Elena, then at Mercer.
DEPUTY OWEN BLAKE: "What's going on, Sheriff?"
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "We've got a woman who needs to be checked."
DEPUTY OWEN BLAKE: "For what?"
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "Just check her belongings."
Elena looked at the deputy.
ELENA HAYES: "I would like to know why I'm being searched."
Owen hesitated.
DEPUTY OWEN BLAKE: "Ma'am, we're trying to establish your identity."
ELENA HAYES: "My identity is not a mystery. You could have asked me for identification without allowing him to assault me."
Owen glanced at the sheriff.
Mercer ignored the accusation.
SHERIFF GRANT MERCER: "Her bag is right there. Check it."
Owen approached the booth.
Elena's black leather handbag was resting beside her. He carefully picked it up and placed it on the table.
DEPUTY OWEN BLAKE: "Do you have any identification, ma'am?"
ELENA HAYES: "Yes. There's a wallet inside."
Owen opened the handbag.
He saw a small cosmetics pouch, a set of keys, a notebook, sunglasses, and a black leather wallet.
He removed the wallet and opened it.
At first, he saw ordinary personal items and payment cards. Then he noticed a professional identification card tucked into a transparent section.
He pulled it out slightly.
His eyes moved across the photograph.
The woman in the photograph had the same dark-blonde hair, the same blue-green eyes, and the same facial features as the woman sitting in front of him.
There was no doubt that it was Elena.
But the title printed beneath her name made him stop.
ELENA HAYES.
UNITED STATES DISTRICT JUDGE.
Owen looked at the card again.
He noticed the official federal judicial insignia and the accompanying gold badge.
His expression changed.
He had expected to find a driver's license or an ordinary identification card.
He had not expected this.
He looked up at Elena.
She was watching him quietly.