"For what offense?"
"Obstruction. Fraudulent identification. We'll sort the rest out later."
Isaiah remained still.
"I haven't resisted you."
Cleary's smile disappeared.
"You've argued from the moment I walked up."
Isaiah took a slow breath.
"Disagreeing with an accusation isn't physical resistance."
The sheriff leaned closer.
"You really don't know when to stop talking."
Isaiah looked directly at him.
Then said quietly, "I want the charges and my request for counsel documented."
Cleary stared.
For a moment, the sheriff seemed irritated by the careful wording.
Then he slammed the door.
Isaiah flinched at the noise.
He wasn't frightened of an argument.
He was frightened of what a man with unchecked authority could do when he considered every request for procedure a personal challenge.
Outside, Cleary walked toward the pickup.
He stood beside the open driver's door and looked inside.
His attention settled on the small box behind the passenger seat.
Then the folder in the center console.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Finally, he reached for his radio.
"Dispatch, send Redline to County Road 44. I've got a vehicle for impound."
Isaiah heard the request through the partly open window.
His stomach tightened.
Redline Recovery.
The same company appearing in the disputed equipment records.
The coincidence felt too significant to ignore.
Ellis Vane was sitting in his office when the towing request arrived.
Redline Recovery operated from a fenced commercial yard outside Coopersville. Heavy trucks stood beside a long metal maintenance building, and several rows of impounded vehicles filled a gravel storage area.
The company handled legitimate recovery work.
Broken-down cars.
Collision removals.
And vehicles lawfully impounded under county procedures.
But Vane had also built relationships that allowed the company to receive unusually favorable treatment in certain county contracts.
He understood which officials could approve work.
Which invoices attracted little attention.
And which people preferred not to ask complicated questions.
When the dispatcher contacted Redline about Isaiah's truck, Vane asked for the location.
County Road 44.
Silver Ford F-150.
Illinois plates.
For a moment, his expression changed.
He knew that truck.
Or at least he knew the description.
A week earlier, someone had provided him with information concerning a retired soldier traveling toward Mobile.
The soldier was expected to discuss equipment records with federal investigators.
Vane had been warned that those records could create serious problems for his company.
He'd contacted Cleary.
The sheriff assured him the situation could be handled.
Now the vehicle was being impounded.
Vane looked toward the yard.
For several seconds, he considered sending an ordinary driver.
Then changed his mind.