It had also made her exceptionally good at recognizing when people were lying.
At Asheford headquarters, she could feel a lie forming before anyone had spoken it aloud.
Someone had anticipated her arrival.
Someone had positioned an unusually aggressive officer at the checkpoint.
And someone inside the building had reacted to her evidence case with the kind of fear that came from knowing what might be inside.
She intended to find out who.
But she would do it through records, witnesses, and lawful investigative steps.
Not intimidation.
That distinction mattered more to her now than ever.
The first independent federal investigator arrived fourteen minutes after the phone call.
He was a middle-aged man in an ordinary gray suit.
Behind him came a woman carrying a camera and documentation equipment.
Two additional authorized personnel waited near the lobby entrance.
They did not burst through the doors shouting commands.
They did not order everyone to the floor.
They identified themselves, confirmed the relevant orders and arrangements, and began coordinating with the police chief.
Their presence changed the atmosphere immediately.
The blonde officer stood beside a wall with her arms crossed.
The male patrol officer who had witnessed the confrontation avoided her eyes.
The chief looked as though he had aged five years in fifteen minutes.
The agent remained beside the black evidence case.
The arriving investigator approached.
"Are you injured?"
"My shoulder is sore. I was pushed twice."
"Do you need medical attention?"