By midday, the investigation had expanded beyond the original traffic stop.
The independent team had identified multiple inconsistencies in arrest reports, missing communications, and unexplained changes to departmental records.
Danielle knew that Richard Cole was an important part of the problem.
But she also understood that an officer could not repeatedly operate without supervision unless someone allowed it.
She needed to understand Sheriff Granger's role.
At 1:15 p.m., she requested a private meeting with him.
They entered the same conference room where the previous day's discussion had taken place.
This time, Granger looked considerably older.
He removed his hat and placed it on the table.
Danielle sat across from him.
"Thank you for meeting with me."
Granger nodded.
"What do you want to know?"
"How long have you known about the complaints against Deputy Cole?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"I've known about some of them."
"How many?"
"I can't remember exactly."
"Then let's review the records."
Danielle opened her folder.
"Eleven complaints were submitted over fourteen months. Seven directly identified Cole. Three described similar conduct involving other deputies. One specifically alleged that you discouraged the complainant from pursuing the matter."
Granger looked away.
"That woman was upset."
"Did you tell her that pursuing the complaint would make things harder for her?"
He remained silent.
Danielle waited.
Finally, he answered.
"I might have said something similar."
"Why?"
"Because I was trying to keep things under control."
"By discouraging someone from reporting misconduct?"
Granger exhaled.
"You don't understand what it's like to run a small department."
Danielle leaned back.
"Explain it."
He looked at her.
"We don't have enough officers. We don't have enough funding. People expect us to respond immediately to every problem. Sometimes we have to make decisions that aren't perfect."
"That's not an explanation for altering reports."
"No."
"Or deleting communications."
"No."
"Or threatening residents who submit complaints."
Granger looked down.
"No."
Danielle closed her folder.
"Then why did you allow it?"
For a long time, the sheriff said nothing.
Then he began speaking.
"When I became sheriff, this county was struggling. We had a high crime rate, very few resources, and a department that nobody trusted."
He paused.
"I wanted to change that."
"Did you?"
"For a while."
He described how he had recruited officers, improved response times, and organized community meetings.
He had wanted the department to become respected.
But over time, the pressure had increased.
Cole had become one of his most productive deputies.
He made numerous arrests, volunteered for difficult shifts, and developed relationships with several influential residents.
Granger had begun overlooking his methods.
At first, the complaints seemed minor.
A rude comment.
An unnecessary search.
An argument during a traffic stop.
Granger told himself that every officer occasionally made mistakes.
Then the complaints became more serious.
But by that point, Cole had become difficult to control.
He knew things about several departmental employees.
He knew which officers had made mistakes.
He knew which supervisors had ignored procedures.
And he understood that Granger was concerned about political consequences.
One evening, Cole had approached the sheriff with a proposal.
He suggested that they quietly resolve certain complaints before they became public.
Granger agreed.
He told himself it was temporary.
It was not.
"What happened to the original complaints?" Danielle asked.
"Some were marked as resolved."
"Without proper investigations?"
"Yes."
"Did you authorize that?"
Granger looked directly at her.
"Yes."
The room became silent.
Danielle wrote something in her notebook.
"Did you ever instruct Cole to stop a specific person because they had submitted a complaint?"
"No."
"Did you know about the list?"
"No."
"Did you know that he was deleting communications?"
"No."
"Did you know that reports were being modified?"
Granger hesitated.
"I knew some reports were being corrected."
"Corrected how?"
"Changing descriptions. Clarifying details."
"Did you review the original versions?"
"Not every time."
Danielle put down her pen.
"That distinction matters, Sheriff."
Granger nodded.
"I know."
She looked at him.
"Why didn't you report the problems when you first realized they were becoming serious?"
He stared at the table.
"Because I thought I could handle it."
"And now?"
He raised his eyes.
"Now I think I made everything worse."
Danielle remained quiet.
She was not interested in humiliating him.
She wanted an accurate account.
"Are you willing to provide a complete written statement?"
Granger nodded.
"Yes."
"Will you identify everyone who participated in closing complaints without proper review?"
"Yes."
"Will you provide all records, including those that could reflect badly on your own administration?"
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then he answered.
"Yes."
Danielle closed her folder.
"Then we can proceed."
As she stood, Granger spoke again.
"Ms. Brooks."
She turned.
"I want to ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"Why did you come to Pouie County personally? You could have sent someone else."
Danielle paused.
Then she looked at him.
"Because the last person who tried to report these incidents was found dead two weeks after submitting a formal complaint."
Granger's face lost its color.
"What?"
"A retired county records clerk named Samuel Hayes."
Granger stared at her.
"He died in an accident."
"That's what the initial report says."
Danielle picked up her folder.
"But his family believes he was preparing to disclose something about this department."
Granger stood slowly.
"Are you saying his death is connected to us?"
"I'm saying the circumstances require examination."
She walked toward the door.
Behind her, Granger remained motionless.
He had thought the investigation was about an abusive deputy.
Now he understood that it might involve something far more serious.