WALTER: "It's the only version I have."
DEPUTY COLE: "The sheriff says you were causing trouble."
WALTER: "Did he say why?"
Cole looked away.
Walter lowered his head for a moment. His breathing had become steadier, but the wound near his temple continued to bleed slowly. A small drop reached the edge of his cheek and disappeared beneath his collar.
The deputy noticed it.
DEPUTY COLE: "You need medical attention?"
WALTER: "I asked for it."
DEPUTY COLE: "When?"
WALTER: "Before you put your hands around my throat."
Cole's expression changed.
He looked toward the corridor, then back at Walter. For the first time, he seemed uncomfortable with the conversation.
DEPUTY COLE: "I was following orders."
WALTER: "That doesn't make your hands disappear."
The deputy said nothing.
Walter leaned back as far as the handcuffs allowed. He closed his eyes briefly, not because he was giving up, but because he was measuring his breathing and controlling the pain.
There were people in the world who mistook silence for weakness. Vance Hollister was one of them.
Walter had spent decades around men who could shout orders, threaten subordinates, and use their positions to frighten anyone who stood in their way. He had also served beside people who carried enormous responsibility without needing to announce it.
He knew the difference.
After a minute, Cole placed the phone back on the desk.
DEPUTY COLE: "The sheriff said no calls."
WALTER: "I heard him."
DEPUTY COLE: "So don't ask again."
Walter opened his eyes.
WALTER: "I'm not asking you."
Cole frowned.
Before he could respond, Walter slowly shifted his body and looked toward the desk. The phone was close enough to reach if the deputy moved away. His hands were still restrained, but the device was small enough to operate with his fingertips if he could bring it around.
Cole watched him carefully.
DEPUTY COLE: "Don't even think about it."
Walter turned his gaze back toward the deputy.
WALTER: "You should check with the sheriff before you decide what happens next."
DEPUTY COLE: "I don't need to check with anybody."
WALTER: "Then you're making the same mistake."
Cole stepped closer, but the sound of footsteps in the corridor interrupted him. He turned toward the door.
A second later, Vance reappeared.
The sheriff had removed his hat and placed it on the counter outside. He walked into the room carrying a folder, his expression now controlled and almost cheerful. It was the expression of a man who believed the difficult part was over.
He set the folder on the desk.
VANCE: "I've decided we're going to make this simple."
Walter looked at the folder.
VANCE: "You sign the statement saying you caused a disturbance, you agree to leave the diner, and we can all get on with our day."
WALTER: "I won't sign something that isn't true."
VANCE: "You don't have to like it. You just have to understand your situation."
WALTER: "I understand it."
VANCE: "Good. Then sign."
Walter looked at the first page. The statement described him as the aggressor. It claimed that he had refused repeated instructions, physically resisted the officers, and caused a disturbance that required police intervention.
There was no mention of the sheriff dragging him from the booth.
There was no mention of the broken saucers.
There was no mention of the blood on the floor.
There was no mention of the deputy's hands around his throat.
Walter slowly looked up.
WALTER: "You want me to say I did this to myself?"
VANCE: "I want you to stop wasting my time."
WALTER: "You wrote this before you heard my statement."
VANCE: "I heard enough."
WALTER: "No, you didn't."
The sheriff pushed the folder closer.
VANCE: "Sign it."
Walter remained still.
Vance's face hardened again.
VANCE: "You really don't understand how things work here."
WALTER: "I understand exactly how things work here."
VANCE: "Then you know you don't have a choice."
Walter looked down at the paper once more. Then he raised his eyes toward the sheriff.
WALTER: "Everybody has a choice."
Vance slammed his palm against the desk.
VANCE: "NOT IN MY STATION."
The impact made the coffee cup jump. Cole stepped backward.
Walter did not move.
The sheriff leaned over him, speaking slowly, each word heavy with contempt.
VANCE: "I can keep you here until tonight. I can put you in a cell. I can write whatever I need to write. And by the time anybody asks questions, you'll be the old man who came into my county looking for trouble."
Walter studied the sheriff's face.
He had heard enough.
He no longer needed to know whether Vance understood what he had done. The sheriff understood perfectly. He simply believed that nobody would challenge him.
Walter looked toward the battered phone on the desk.
WALTER: "I need to make one call."
Vance laughed.
VANCE: "You need to sign that statement."
WALTER: "I need to make one call."
VANCE: "I told you no calls."
Walter's voice remained quiet.
WALTER: "Then you'll have to explain why you stopped me."
The sheriff stared at him.
VANCE: "Who exactly do you think you're going to call?"