“Yes.”
“For?”
“Obstruction.”
“Of what?”
Ford slammed one palm on the desk.
“This attitude.”
Arthur looked at him.
Riggs looked too.
The dispatcher stopped typing.
Ford realized what he had said.
Too late.
Arthur's voice remained quiet.
“Attitude is not a criminal offense.”
Ford pointed toward the cell.
“Put him in.”
Riggs opened it.
Arthur entered.
The door closed.
Ford returned to the portfolio.
He had brought it in from the tow truck.
That surprised Arthur.
Not because Ford lacked restraint.
Because every additional decision created more evidence.
Ford placed the documents across the desk.
Riggs stood nearby.
The dispatcher watched from behind glass.
Arthur remained behind bars.
Ford picked up the certified discharge record.
“Let's see.”
He read loudly.
“Arthur James Pendleton.”
Arthur's eyes hardened.
Ford continued.
“United States Army.”
“Staff sergeant.”
Then:
“Special operations support.”
Ford whistled.
“Big hero.”
Arthur said:
“You have already exceeded any reasonable scope of the traffic stop.”
Ford looked up.
“This ain't a traffic stop anymore.”
“No.”
Arthur nodded.
“You turned it into something else.”
Ford picked up another document.
Transit authorization.
Some portions redacted.
Federal seal.
“What's this?”
Arthur said nothing.
Ford brought it closer to his face.
“Classified?”
“Do not open sealed federal materials.”
Ford smiled.
“You don't get to tell me what to do in my station.”
Arthur leaned against the cell wall.
“I am telling you what will happen if you damage them.”
Ford reached into a desk drawer.
Chrome lighter.
Riggs's head snapped toward him.
“Sheriff.”
Ford flicked it open.
Arthur's posture changed instantly.
“Put that down.”
Ford smiled.
First genuine satisfaction all afternoon.
Finally.
A reaction.
“So you do care.”
Arthur stepped toward the bars.
“Those documents are logged federal property.”
Ford held the discharge record above the lighter.
“Looks like paper.”
“Sheriff.”
Ford flicked the flame.
Arthur's voice deepened.
“Do not do that.”
Riggs moved closer.
“Clayton.”
Ford turned.
“What?”
“This is stupid.”
The room changed.
Nobody called Ford Clayton inside the station.
Arthur noticed.
So did everyone.
Ford's face went hard.
“Go outside.”
Riggs stared.
“I'm not leaving.”
Ford stepped toward him.
“You questioning me in my own station?”
Riggs looked at the lighter.
Then Arthur.
“Yes.”
Ford's expression became dangerous.
Arthur spoke:
“Deputy Riggs.”
Riggs looked at him.
“Do not escalate this physically.”
Ford laughed.
“You giving him orders now?”
Arthur ignored him.
“Document what you see.”
Riggs understood.
He stepped back.