“For what?”
“She had been drinking.”
Brooke said:
“No, I had not.”
Grant turned.
Sheriff Whitaker said:
“Who is that?”
Brooke stepped closer to the phone.
“Brooke Hayes.”
“Ms. Hayes, this is Sheriff Whitaker.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you drinking?”
“No.”
“Did anyone test you?”
“No.”
“Were you attempting to drive?”
“I was walking toward my parked car.”
“Did Officer Mercer tell you why he stopped you?”
“No.”
Grant said:
“She was leaving a bar.”
The sheriff’s voice changed.
“So?”
Grant stared.
Cole looked at him.
That one word dismantled most of Grant’s justification.
Sheriff Whitaker continued:
“Leaving a bar is not an offense.”
“I had reasonable concern.”
“What concern?”
Grant looked around.
Same problem.
No answer.
The sheriff asked:
“Eli there?”
Eli stepped forward.
“Yes, Sheriff.”
“You witnessing?”
Eli swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Body cam?”
“Yes.”
“Is Ms. Hayes detained right now?”
Eli looked toward Grant.
Grant looked back.
The silence answered too much.
Eli chose.
“No, sir.”
Grant snapped:
“I didn’t say she could leave.”
Eli looked toward him.
Then the phone.
Sheriff Whitaker’s voice became hard.
“Grant, unless you can articulate a lawful detention immediately, she is free to leave.”
Grant stared at the pavement.
No answer.
Whitaker continued:
“Step away from her.”
Grant did not move.
Cole watched.
“Grant.”
The sheriff’s voice came through the phone again.
“Step away.”
Grant took two steps backward.
Brooke exhaled for what felt like the first time in several minutes.
The sheriff said:
“Chief.”
Cole answered.
“Yeah?”
“Bar cameras preserve automatically?”
“Thirty days.”
“Lock this segment now.”
“Already texted the owner.”
“Good.”
Then:
“Ms. Hayes.”
Brooke looked toward the phone.
“Yes?”
“I am sending a supervisor and Internal Affairs investigator to your location.”
Grant’s face drained.
“Sheriff—”
Whitaker ignored him.
“You are not required to remain unless you want to make a report now.”
Brooke considered.
She looked at Grant.
Then Eli.
Then Cole.
“I’ll stay.”
“Understood.”
Grant finally found his voice.
“Internal Affairs?”
Sheriff Whitaker answered:
“Yes.”
“For a misunderstanding?”
Brooke’s expression hardened.
Cole’s jaw tightened.
Whitaker said:
“That determination is not yours to make.”
Then the call ended.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The road noise returned.
A truck passed on the highway.
A motorcycle engine started near the bar.
Grant looked at Cole.
“Chief?”
Cole put his phone away.
“Retired.”
Grant stared.
Eli knew now.