Glove compartment.
Under seats.
Door pockets.
Then the leather portfolio.
Arthur's voice changed.
“Sheriff.”
Ford stopped.
“That portfolio contains federal documents.”
Ford smiled.
“Even better.”
“Do not open it.”
“You giving me orders?”
“I am advising you that some contents are restricted transit materials.”
Ford laughed.
“Restricted.”
Arthur watched him.
“Put it down.”
Ford opened the clasp.
Inside were documents arranged precisely.
Passport.
Retirement identification.
Certified discharge papers.
Contractor credential.
A sealed transfer envelope.
Movement authorization.
Facility access documentation.
Some ordinary.
Some not.
Ford lifted the discharge papers first.
Read.
His mouth moved slightly.
Then he looked at Arthur.
“Special operations.”
Arthur said nothing.
Ford continued reading.
“Silver Star.”
Arthur's expression remained flat.
“You expect me to believe this?”
Arthur looked at Riggs.
The deputy had moved closer.
Ford held up the card.
“Major commendations.”
Arthur said:
“Call the verification number.”
Ford smiled.
“No.”
“Use the federal portal.”
“No.”
“Then stop pretending verification is the problem.”
Ford's smile disappeared.
Arthur continued:
“You don't want to know whether they're real.”
“You want them to be fake.”
Riggs looked between them.
Ford stepped toward Arthur.
“Careful.”
Arthur's voice stayed level.
“You stopped a vehicle.”
“You found valid identification.”
“You invented a drug odor your own deputy did not confirm.”
“Now you're searching documents unrelated to any traffic offense.”
Ford leaned closer.
“Down here, boy, I decide what's related.”
Arthur's face changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
The word hung between them.
Riggs looked toward Ford.
Even he knew.
Arthur breathed slowly.
“Sheriff, close the portfolio.”
Ford smiled again.
“Or what?”
Arthur looked toward the sealed federal envelope in Ford's hand.
“That one is logged.”
Ford's smile weakened slightly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means its custody status is being monitored.”
“You trying to scare me?”
“No.”
Arthur spoke carefully.
“It means damaging it creates a record you cannot erase by writing your own report.”
Ford stared.
Then laughed.
He threw the documents back into the truck.
“Cuff him.”
Riggs looked at him.
“What?”
Ford pointed.
“Cuff him.”
“Charge?”
“Obstruction.”
Arthur looked toward Riggs.
The younger deputy froze.
Ford's voice sharpened.
“Deputy.”
Riggs moved.
Slowly.
Arthur placed his hands behind his back without being touched.
Riggs secured the cuffs.
Not overly tight.
Arthur noticed that too.
Small choices.
Ford looked pleased.
“See?”
Arthur said nothing.
Ford leaned near his ear.
“You people always get real quiet once the steel goes on.”