“Ben made it free because of the bikers?”
“He made it free because he’s afraid of the bikers.”
They laughed.
Outside, Grant sat in Captain Kent’s SUV answering preliminary questions with a union representative on speakerphone.
His story remained simple.
He had observed Brooke leaving a drinking establishment.
Her gait seemed unsteady.
He approached to determine whether she intended to drive.
She became argumentative.
He placed one hand near her hip to redirect her away from the roadway.
She struck him.
A biker interfered.
The biker grabbed him.
He considered arresting both.
Then Sheriff Whitaker intervened.
Investigator Santos listened.
“Was she unsteady?”
“Yes.”
“Bodycam will show?”
“Yes.”
Grant answered too quickly.
Miguel wrote.
“Did you ask whether she intended to drive?”
“I asked which vehicle was hers.”
“Why?”
“Because of suspected impairment.”
“Did you request field sobriety testing?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Interaction escalated.”
“Did you smell alcohol?”
Grant paused.
“No.”
“Slurred speech?”
“No.”
“Bloodshot eyes?”
“No.”
“Admission of drinking?”
“She said she had been inside the bar.”
“That was not my question.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Open container?”
“No.”
Miguel wrote.
“Why did you touch her?”
“To move her from traffic.”
“Which traffic?”
Grant looked through the windshield toward the area where it happened.
The porch walkway.
No active lane.
“It was near the vehicle path.”
“Was a vehicle approaching?”
“No.”
Miguel continued.
“Did she ask you to step back before you touched her?”
Grant stared.
Bodycam would answer.
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you not to touch her?”
“After.”
“Did you tell her the way she was dressed invited attention?”
Grant’s face tightened.
Union representative interrupted through the phone.
“My client may need a break.”
Miguel nodded.
“Take ten minutes.”
Grant stepped out.
Eli stood across the parking lot after finishing his own statement.
Their eyes met.
Grant walked toward him.
Eli immediately lifted one hand.
“Don't.”
Grant stopped.
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
“You know.”
Grant’s expression hardened.
“You're throwing me under the bus.”
Eli stared.
“You put your hand on her.”
“I moved her.”
“No.”
Eli’s voice remained low.
“I saw it.”
Grant stepped closer.
“You better be very careful about accusing your partner.”
Eli’s face changed.
Fear.
Then something stronger.
“My body cam saw it too.”
Grant stopped.
Eli continued:
“So did three cameras.”
“Don't make me responsible for what you did.”
Grant looked as though Eli had struck him.
Then walked away.
Cole watched from a distance.
He did not intervene.
Some moments belong to the person finally finding his voice.
By noon, almost three hundred motorcycles filled the Red Mesa property.
Riders registered.
Donations collected.
Children from Trinity Regional had painted small cards for participants.
One read:
THANK YOU FOR RIDING FOR US.
Cole stood on a temporary stage before departure.