“How many?”
“Thirty-two.”
Hayes took a step backward.
James looked at him.
“Trooper Hayes, I think we need to have a much longer conversation.”
Hayes tried another nervous smile.
“Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”
James looked down the empty road.
Then he said quietly:
“That's exactly what I came here for.”
CHAPTER 2 — THE STOP THAT WAS NEVER RANDOM
Twenty minutes earlier, James Carter had been driving toward a small roadside diner when he noticed a patrol vehicle following him.
At first, he thought nothing of it.
He had been driving below the speed limit.
His registration was current.
His insurance was valid.
But the patrol car continued following him for nearly twelve miles.
Then its lights came on.
James pulled onto the shoulder.
He placed both hands on the steering wheel and waited.
Trooper Hayes approached from the driver's side.
“License and registration.”
James handed them over.
Hayes examined the documents.
“Where are you headed?”
“North.”
“That's not an answer.”
“To a meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?”
“A private one.”
Hayes stared at him.
“Private?”
“Yes.”
“What's your occupation?”
James looked at him.
“Federal law enforcement.”
Hayes laughed.
“Really?”
James nodded.
“Would you like to see my credentials?”
“I'll decide what I want to see.”
The encounter had begun there.
But James had not stopped simply because of the officer's attitude.
He had stopped because he recognized the patrol vehicle.
Its unit number appeared in an internal federal report connected to a series of questionable roadside arrests.
For six months, James had been reviewing complaints involving the Virginia Highway Patrol's District Seven.
Several drivers had reported being detained without clear cause.
Some claimed officers had taken their money.
Others said their vehicles had been searched without proper documentation.
Most complaints had been dismissed.
But one detail connected them.
The same patrol unit number appeared repeatedly.
Unit 714.
And Trooper Richard Hayes was assigned to it.
James had been investigating the pattern quietly.
He wasn't supposed to reveal his identity.
He wanted to observe how the officer behaved during an ordinary encounter.
Instead, Hayes had immediately escalated the situation.
And now the investigation had become personal.
James looked at the officer.
“Trooper, why did you stop me?”
Hayes adjusted his belt.
“Suspicious vehicle.”
“What made it suspicious?”
“Your behavior.”
“I was driving.”
“You were slowing down near the intersection.”
“Because the speed limit changed.”
Hayes looked annoyed.
“Don't argue.”
James nodded.
“Then document the reason for the stop.”
Hayes stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Put it in your report.”
“You don't tell me how to write my reports.”
James said nothing.
But he remembered every word.
When the backup supervisor arrived, Hayes was standing beside his patrol vehicle.
James waited near his pickup.
Officer Brooks stood several feet away, holding the identification booklet.
A gray SUV pulled onto the shoulder.
A woman in her forties stepped out.
Her name was Captain Laura Mitchell, the patrol district's field supervisor.
She approached quickly.
“What's happening?”
Hayes immediately stood straighter.
“Captain, we had an identification issue.”
Mitchell looked at James.
Then at the booklet in Brooks's hand.
“Is that his credential?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
She examined it.
Her expression changed.