And the woman he had chosen to humiliate was far more familiar with the machinery of federal oversight than he could imagine.
Amara looked down at her phone again.
Another notification appeared.
This time, it was from an official contact whose name Dalton could not see.
She read the message.
Her expression did not change.
Then she locked the screen and placed the phone on the table.
DALTON VOSS: "Who sent that?"
AMARA: "Someone who needs to know what happened here."
DALTON VOSS: "And who would that be?"
AMARA: "You'll find out soon enough."
Dalton stared at her.
He wanted to demand an answer, but something held him back.
Ryan glanced toward the front entrance.
A vehicle had just pulled into the diner parking lot.
It was a dark government sedan.
The driver remained inside for a moment before opening the door.
Ryan noticed the official-looking vehicle and looked toward the sheriff.
RYAN COLE: "Sheriff, there's someone outside."
Dalton turned toward the window.
He watched as a well-dressed man stepped out of the sedan, adjusted his jacket, and looked toward the diner entrance.
Amara noticed the movement.
For the first time since the confrontation began, she allowed herself a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
DALTON VOSS: "Who is that?"
AMARA: "I believe you're about to have a very important conversation."
The sheriff remained motionless.
The man outside began walking toward the entrance.
Inside the diner, nobody spoke.
Martha looked toward the door.
Ryan slowly stepped away from the table.
Dalton tightened his grip on the wallet.
And Amara Whitlock, still sitting beside the overturned drink and the wet napkins, calmly waited for the next person to enter.
The man approaching the entrance of the Kettle & Comb was dressed in a dark navy suit, a white shirt, and a discreet silver tie.
He carried a thin leather briefcase in one hand.
He did not look like someone who had come to eat.
His expression was serious, and his movements were deliberate.
Through the large front window, Ryan watched him approach.
The deputy recognized the vehicle outside. It was not a local police cruiser, nor did it belong to anyone who regularly visited the diner.
It was a government vehicle.
Ryan looked toward Dalton.
RYAN COLE: "Sheriff, I think we should find out who that is."
DALTON VOSS: "Stay where you are."
The man reached the entrance and opened the door.
A small bell rang above it.
He stepped inside, briefly surveyed the dining area, and immediately spotted Amara.
His expression changed.
He walked directly toward her table.
MAN IN SUIT: "Judge Whitlock."
Amara stood slowly.
AMARA WHITLOCK: "Daniel. Thank you for coming."
The man placed his briefcase beside the booth.
His name was Daniel Mercer, a senior federal investigator assigned to a joint inquiry involving several law enforcement agencies in Georgia.
He had worked with Amara on sensitive judicial matters for some time.
He looked at her wet blazer.
Then he noticed the redness on her cheek.
His expression became noticeably more serious.
DANIEL MERCER: "What happened?"
Amara glanced toward Dalton.
AMARA WHITLOCK: "Sheriff Voss and his deputy approached me while I was having lunch. The sheriff threw my drink into my face, struck me, and attempted to detain me without explaining a lawful basis."
Daniel looked at the sheriff.
DANIEL MERCER: "Is that true?"
Dalton straightened his uniform.
DALTON VOSS: "This is a local law enforcement matter."
DANIEL MERCER: "I didn't ask you what kind of matter it was. I asked whether the statement was true."
DALTON VOSS: "She was being investigated."
DANIEL MERCER: "For what?"
DALTON VOSS: "A possible armed theft."
Daniel looked toward Amara.
Then he looked back at Dalton.
DANIEL MERCER: "Did you verify her identity before detaining her?"
DALTON VOSS: "We were in the process of doing that."
DANIEL MERCER: "Did you identify yourself and explain the reason for the stop?"
Dalton hesitated.
DALTON VOSS: "I don't have to discuss every operational detail with you."
Daniel opened his briefcase.
He removed a small identification wallet and displayed his federal credentials.
DANIEL MERCER: "Daniel Mercer. Federal investigative division. I'm here regarding an ongoing matter involving the Randolph County Sheriff's Department."
The words seemed to change the atmosphere inside the diner.
Ryan looked toward Dalton.
The sheriff's expression hardened.
DALTON VOSS: "What ongoing matter?"