Walter did not answer immediately. He looked down at his hands, then at the old phone. The elastic band around its cracked battery casing had been replaced several times. The device had survived years of travel, long stretches without service, and countless mornings in the pocket of his old jacket.
It was not an expensive phone.
It was not impressive.
But it carried a number Walter had memorized many years earlier.
Vance followed his gaze and shook his head.
VANCE: "Go ahead. Tell me who is going to save you."
Walter slowly lifted his eyes.
WALTER: "Someone who will want to know what happened."
The sheriff laughed again.
VANCE: "Nobody in this county is going to risk their job for you."
WALTER: "I wasn't talking about this county."
The room fell quiet.
Vance stared at him for a moment, then glanced at Cole.
VANCE: "Give him the phone. Let's see how far this little performance goes."
Cole hesitated.
VANCE: "NOW."
The deputy picked up the battered flip-phone and placed it on the desk in front of Walter.
Walter leaned forward as far as the handcuffs allowed. His movements were slow and deliberate. He opened the phone and studied the small screen.
His fingers moved across the keypad.
Three digits.
A pause.
Then an eleven-digit direct extension.
He entered the sequence from memory.
The sheriff folded his arms.
VANCE: "Who is it? The governor?"
Walter pressed the call button and raised the phone toward his uninjured ear.
The line began to ring.
Once.
Twice.
Vance rolled his eyes and turned toward the door, already convinced that the call would lead nowhere.
Then the ringing stopped.
A voice answered.
It was a woman's voice, crisp and controlled, with no trace of confusion or hesitation.
TESSA: "Talk."
Walter closed his eyes for half a second.
He had not heard that voice in person for several weeks, but he recognized it instantly. It was the voice of his daughter, Commander Tessa Vance, a senior United States Navy officer who had spent years learning how to remain composed when every second mattered.
Walter spoke quietly.
WALTER: "It's me."
There was a brief silence.
TESSA: "Dad?"
WALTER: "Yes."
TESSA: "Where are you?"
Walter glanced at the sheriff.
WALTER: "Clearwater County Sheriff's Station."
Tessa's tone changed.
TESSA: "Why are you there?"
Walter looked at the blood on his sleeve.
WALTER: "Vance Hollister had me brought in."
The sheriff stopped moving.
TESSA: "What happened?"
Walter took a slow breath.
WALTER: "He took my booth, Tessa. He put his hands on me. I hit the floor. There's blood on my head."
The room seemed to become smaller.
Tessa did not interrupt. Walter could hear a faint mechanical hum in the background, followed by the soft sound of someone moving across a hard floor.
TESSA: "Are you injured anywhere else?"
WALTER: "My shoulder. My wrists. They put the cuffs on me."
TESSA: "Who put their hands on you?"
Walter looked directly at Vance.
WALTER: "The sheriff. One of his deputies too."
The sheriff's face changed.
VANCE: "Who are you talking to?"
Walter did not respond.
TESSA: "Is Sheriff Vance Hollister still there?"
WALTER: "He's standing right in front of me."
Tessa paused.
When she spoke again, her voice was lower.
TESSA: "Do not leave that room, Dad."
WALTER: "I wasn't planning to."
TESSA: "Do not sign anything. Do not argue with them. Do not let anyone move you somewhere I cannot locate you."
Walter looked toward the interview-room door.
WALTER: "Understood."
TESSA: "Keep the line open if you can."
The sheriff stepped forward.
VANCE: "WHO IS THAT?"
Walter turned slightly away from him.
WALTER: "Someone who needs to hear what happens next."
Tessa's voice came through the small speaker once more.
TESSA: "Dad, listen carefully. I need ten minutes."
Walter's expression did not change.
WALTER: "You have them."
TESSA: "Stay where you are."
The call ended.
Walter folded the phone and placed it carefully on the desk.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Vance stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
Then the sheriff gave a short laugh.
VANCE: "That was it? That's the big call?"
Walter remained silent.
VANCE: "You called your daughter?"
Walter looked at him.
WALTER: "Yes."
VANCE: "And what is she going to do? Drive down here and complain?"
Walter did not answer.
Vance shook his head and picked up the unsigned statement.
VANCE: "I thought you were going to tell me something important."
He turned toward Deputy Cole.
VANCE: "Put him in holding."
Cole hesitated.
DEPUTY COLE: "Sheriff, should we get medical to look at his head first?"
Vance turned sharply.
VANCE: "Did I ask for your opinion?"
DEPUTY COLE: "No, sir."
VANCE: "Then do what I told you."
Cole stepped toward Walter.
Walter slowly stood.
The handcuffs rattled behind his back as he straightened his jacket. He did not resist when the deputy took hold of his arm.
But before they reached the door, Walter looked once more at the sheriff.
WALTER: "You should keep the paperwork exactly as it is."
Vance frowned.
VANCE: "What?"
WALTER: "The statement. The report. Everything you wrote."