"I accepted it because I believe most people enter public service wanting to do meaningful work, and good institutions should help them meet that responsibility."
Voss stared at the table.
For a moment, he felt a flicker of relief.
Perhaps she wasn't going to mention him.
Perhaps the afternoon encounter would be treated as a personal disagreement.
Then Camille continued.
"But loyalty to this office can never require ignoring misconduct."
The room became quiet.
She looked toward the assembled supervisors.
"Professional judgment means recognizing when evidence doesn't support your original assumption."
Solis lowered her eyes.
Camille continued.
"Authority doesn't become stronger when someone refuses to admit a mistake. It becomes more dangerous."
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Voss felt heat rising beneath his collar.
He could almost hear the Bentley's windows shattering again.
The first crack.
The second.
The sound of glass falling across the pavement.
Then Camille looked toward Captain Rowan.
"Before we discuss tomorrow's assignments, I need everyone to understand one administrative directive."
The captain nodded.
She continued.
"All records associated with the department's vehicle towing and temporary-hold practices are to be preserved pending an independent review."
Voss's stomach dropped.
The words were no longer about a damaged car.
They were about Ridgeway Recovery.
And he knew exactly how much trouble that could create.
The meeting lasted another twenty minutes.
Camille outlined the priorities of her first ninety days.
She wanted accurate records.
Clear supervisory accountability.
A review of disputed towing practices.
And a process allowing residents to report concerns without fearing retaliation.
She didn't announce mass dismissals.
Didn't accuse the entire department of corruption.
And didn't promise that every investigation would confirm public allegations.
She emphasized that individual responsibility had to be established through evidence.
Several officers appeared reassured.
Others were skeptical.
But the room listened.
Even Voss.
He barely moved.
When Camille concluded, Rowan announced that supervisors would receive written guidance concerning immediate preservation requirements and reporting responsibilities.
The formal meeting ended.
Officers began standing.
Voss rose quickly.
He wanted to leave.
Wanted to reach his patrol SUV.
Wanted to put distance between himself and the woman who had just become his sheriff.
Then Rowan spoke.
"Sergeant Voss."
The words stopped him.
He turned slowly.
"Sir?"
The captain looked toward him.
"Please remain."
Solis glanced toward the sergeant.
Then looked away.
The other officers continued leaving.
Soon, only Camille, Rowan, Lieutenant Cross, and Voss remained in the room.
The silence became almost unbearable.
Camille gathered her sunglasses and placed them inside her yellow handbag.
Then she looked directly at the man who destroyed her Bentley.
"Sergeant," she said quietly, "we need to discuss this afternoon."
Voss swallowed.
For the first time in his career, he couldn't think of a single confident answer.
He tried anyway.
"Sheriff, I didn't know who you were."