New subdivisions had spread along former farmland, connecting older working-class neighborhoods to expensive developments. Businesses were expanding, traffic was increasing, and the sheriff's office had grown faster than its internal oversight procedures.
On paper, the department appeared well organized.
Its website described a commitment to community trust, professional service, and transparency. Training records were current, promotional materials emphasized neighborhood partnerships, and senior officials praised the office's low rate of sustained misconduct complaints.
But county administrators had begun receiving concerns.
A civil rights organization reported that several residents described unusually aggressive traffic stops along the eastern commuter corridor.
A public defender noticed recurring differences between written search reports and what defendants claimed had happened.
And a county commissioner began asking why so many misconduct complaints ended with the same administrative classification.
Insufficient information to proceed.
Those concerns didn't automatically prove wrongdoing.
But they justified a closer look.
The county board authorized an independent review of the sheriff's office complaint system. I was hired as one of the investigators assigned to the project.
For eight months, I examined procedures, interviewed personnel, and reviewed available records.
The work revealed problems.
Complaints sometimes entered the wrong tracking categories.
Evidence retention requests were inconsistently documented.
Several incidents involving force had been reviewed only by supervisors from the same patrol division.
And a number of complainants said they never received a clear explanation of what happened to their reports.
Not every problem was deliberate.
Some resulted from outdated software and inadequate staffing.
But the overall system relied too heavily on the discretion of people whose work was supposed to be independently examined.
The county's new sheriff, Elaine Whitaker, had inherited the department after a difficult election. She understood that public confidence was deteriorating and that simply promising to improve training would not be enough.
After reviewing my work, she offered me the director's position.
I hesitated.
The job would place me inside the same agency I'd been examining from the outside.
I knew officers might see me as an outsider imposed by political pressure.
I also knew some senior supervisors would resent a young Black woman being placed in authority over investigations that could affect their careers.
But Sheriff Whitaker made one commitment that changed my decision.
"The office will have direct access to preserved evidence and independent review authority under the revised procedures," she told me. "You won't have to ask the patrol division for permission to investigate the patrol division."
I studied the written appointment terms.
Then asked whether she was prepared to enforce them when the first difficult case arrived.
She looked directly at me.
"That's what I hired you for."