A man spoke without introducing himself.
"You planning to drive through Holloway County?"
Isaiah frowned.
"Who is this?"
The man ignored the question.
"That equipment business isn't your concern anymore."
For several seconds, Isaiah remained quiet.
Then he asked who was calling.
The man laughed softly.
"You're retired now, Sergeant. Enjoy it."
The call ended.
Isaiah stared at the screen.
He'd been trained not to treat every threatening message as proof of a larger conspiracy.
But the timing disturbed him.
Only a small number of people knew he was traveling to Alabama or cooperating with investigators concerning the equipment records.
He contacted Helena.
She asked him to document the call accurately.
Then explained that investigators would examine the information through appropriate channels.
Isaiah also informed his former commander, Colonel Daniel Price.
Price had supervised him during part of his final assignment and knew about the equipment-accountability concerns.
The colonel was concerned but measured.
He advised Isaiah to avoid unnecessary confrontation, preserve relevant information, and follow the investigators' guidance.
Then they agreed on a simple check-in arrangement during the trip.
Isaiah would contact Helena's team at a designated time before arriving in Mobile.
It wasn't an elaborate protection operation.
Just a practical way to confirm his travel progress after an unexplained warning.
Isaiah agreed.
He didn't expect the arrangement to matter.
Then the sheriff's patrol lights appeared in his rearview mirror on County Road 44.
And twenty minutes later, Isaiah missed the scheduled call.
The radio call arrived at 2:49 in the afternoon.
Isaiah had been on the shoulder for more than thirty minutes by then, though the encounter felt much longer. His phone was inside the truck, the keys were in Cleary's possession, and the sheriff had already searched his wallet for identification.
Cleary stood beside the open rear door of the patrol SUV with one hand resting on Isaiah's upper arm.
The dispatcher repeated her message.
"Sheriff, the caller says it's a matter involving a federal witness and requests your immediate contact."
Cleary frowned.
"What federal witness?"
The dispatcher hesitated.
"The man you have stopped on County Road 44. Isaiah Brooks."
For a moment, Cleary stopped moving.
Isaiah noticed.
The sheriff's fingers tightened around his arm, then loosened slightly.
Cleary looked toward the silver pickup.
Then toward the broken identification card visible on the driver's seat.
His expression changed so briefly that Isaiah might have missed it if he hadn't been watching carefully.
But the change was real.
Recognition.
Not surprise at learning Isaiah had military connections.
Recognition of the name.
"Tell them I'm handling a traffic investigation," Cleary said.