The drive back to Pouie County Sheriff's Department was unusually quiet.
Danielle Brooks followed the patrol vehicles in her silver sedan. Her hands rested comfortably on the steering wheel, and her eyes remained focused on the road ahead.
Behind her, Richard Cole sat in the passenger seat of the first patrol cruiser.
He had barely spoken since leaving Highway Forty-Five.
The confidence that had defined his behavior earlier that afternoon had been replaced by something unfamiliar.
Uncertainty.
He kept replaying the moment he had seen the words on Danielle's phone.
STATE POLICE β INTERNAL AFFAIRS.
At first, he had assumed she was simply contacting someone who worked in the department. Now he knew that assumption had been dangerously wrong.
Sheriff Thomas Granger drove ahead of him.
Every few minutes, Granger checked his rearview mirror.
He had received three messages from State Police command since leaving the highway. Each contained instructions about preserving evidence, restricting access to records, and cooperating with an independent investigative team.
The language was formal.
The implications were serious.
Granger knew Danielle Brooks was not an ordinary visitor. Her credentials indicated that she held a senior investigative position within the State Police Office of Professional Standards.
But he still did not know why she had been traveling through his county.
And that question frightened him more than the arrest itself.
When they reached the station, Danielle parked beside the main entrance.
She stepped out, retrieved her black folder, and walked toward the building.
Granger waited near the entrance.
"Ms. Brooks."
She stopped.
"Yes, Sheriff?"
"I've arranged a conference room."
"Thank you."
"I also instructed the records department to preserve the relevant material."
"Which material?"
"Traffic-stop recordings, arrest records, dispatch logs, and communications."
Danielle looked at him.
"Good. I would also like the department's complaint database preserved."
Granger hesitated.
"That includes several years of records."
"Correct."
"Some of those complaints have already been closed."
"Closed complaints are still records."
He nodded reluctantly.
Inside the station, several employees looked up as Danielle entered.
A young receptionist smiled politely.
"Good afternoon. Can I help you?"
Danielle approached the counter.
"I'm here for a meeting with Sheriff Granger."
The receptionist looked toward the sheriff.
"Yes, ma'am. Right this way."
As they walked through the corridor, Danielle noticed several framed photographs on the walls.
Sheriff Granger at community events.
Deputies receiving awards.
Group photographs from departmental ceremonies.
The images portrayed a professional organization.
But the complaints she had reviewed suggested that the reality was considerably different.
The conference room was small, with a rectangular table and several chairs.
Granger entered first.
Cole followed.
Price came in last.
Danielle placed her folder on the table.
"Before we begin, I want to establish something clearly."
Granger sat down.
"Go ahead."
"This is not an informal discussion about an unpleasant traffic stop. The incident is now part of an official review."
Cole leaned back.
"Here we go again."
Danielle ignored him.
"I expect complete cooperation. Nobody should delete, modify, relocate, or destroy any records related to this department's operations."
Granger nodded.
"Understood."
She opened her folder.
"Now, I want to discuss the eleven complaints submitted during the previous fourteen months."
Granger's expression changed.
Cole sat forward.
"What complaints?"
Danielle looked at him.
"Several involve alleged unlawful searches, questionable traffic stops, intimidation, and arrest reports that appear inconsistent with available recordings."
Cole shook his head.
"People complain about everything."
"Perhaps. That's why investigators examine evidence."
She removed several documents.
The first contained a complaint from a delivery driver who claimed he had been stopped three times in six weeks.
The second involved a woman who alleged that an officer had threatened to arrest her after she asked for a badge number.
The third involved a young college student whose vehicle had been searched after he refused to answer unrelated questions.
Danielle placed the documents in front of Granger.
"Do these incidents look familiar?"
Granger examined them.
His expression became increasingly uncomfortable.
"Some of these were handled internally."
"By whom?"
He paused.
"Department supervisors."
"Which supervisors?"
Granger looked at Cole.
The deputy shifted in his chair.
Danielle waited.
Finally, Granger answered.
"Several were reviewed by me."
She nodded.
"Then your decisions will also be examined."
The sheriff looked up sharply.
"Are you suggesting I participated in misconduct?"
"I'm suggesting that supervisory decisions are part of the investigative record."
Cole laughed bitterly.
"This is a witch hunt."
Danielle turned toward him.
"No, Deputy. A witch hunt begins with a conclusion and searches for evidence to support it. An investigation begins with evidence and determines what happened."
Cole looked away.
Price remained silent.
Danielle opened another document.
"This complaint was submitted by a retired teacher. She reported that she was stopped on Highway Forty-Five and told that her vehicle would be impounded unless she paid an outstanding roadside penalty."
Granger frowned.
"That doesn't sound like an official procedure."
"It wasn't."
Cole shifted.
Danielle noticed.
She placed the document in front of him.
"Do you recognize the incident?"
Cole stared at the paper.
"No."
"Then perhaps the recording will help."
She closed the folder.
"Tomorrow morning, an independent team will begin reviewing the department's records."
Granger leaned forward.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"How large is the team?"
"Large enough."
The answer was deliberately brief.
Danielle stood.
"Until then, I suggest everyone gets some rest."
She turned toward the door.
But before leaving, she looked back at Granger.
"One more thing, Sheriff."
"Yes?"
"Do not confuse the fact that you have held this position for eleven years with immunity from accountability."
Then she walked out.
Granger remained seated.
Cole stared at the documents.
Price looked at the empty doorway.
For the first time, the department's employees understood that the woman they had handcuffed on Highway Forty-Five had not come to ask them for an apology.
She had come to find out what they had been hiding.