He told her about a man named Leonard Price.
Leonard was a sixty-eight-year-old Black American veteran who lived in a small trailer near the lake.
He had served in the Army during the final years of the Vietnam era and later worked as a mechanic.
After retirement, he spent his mornings repairing bicycles for children in the neighborhood.
He had little money.
But he was generous with his time.
Isaiah had known him for more than twenty years.
Six months earlier, Leonard had been stopped by a state trooper while driving to a medical appointment.
His permanent driver's license had recently been replaced after damage to the original card.
He had a valid temporary license issued by the motor vehicle agency.
The trooper refused to accept it.
Leonard's car was impounded.
He was issued multiple citations.
The towing and storage charges eventually exceeded what he could afford.
By the time the charges were dismissed, the vehicle had been sold under a disputed lien process.
Leonard filed complaints.
He requested records.
He appealed the fees.
But he received little meaningful assistance.
The experience devastated him.
Without the car, he struggled to attend medical appointments.
His health declined.
Three months later, he died following complications from a chronic cardiac condition.
Isaiah never claimed that the traffic stop alone had caused Leonard's death.
He understood that would require medical evidence.
But he believed the ordeal had caused needless suffering during the man's final months.
And something else troubled him.
Leonard had kept notes.
Dates.
Names.
Copies of documents.
Photographs.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Trooper Derek Malloy.
Naomi had listened carefully.
"Did Leonard have an attorney?"
"Not until near the end."
"Did the court dismiss the traffic charges?"
"Yes."
"What happened with the tow?"
"That's what I can't get a straight answer about."
"Have you asked for the records?"
"Three times."
"What did they say?"
Isaiah had paused.
Then he answered.
"Depends which office I ask. Every office says another office has the answer."
Naomi knew that pattern.
She had encountered it in military administrative cases.
A citizen challenged a decision.
One department referred the question to another.
The second department claimed it lacked authority.
The third said the paperwork was incomplete.
Eventually the person stopped asking.
Sometimes because the matter was resolved.
Sometimes because the process was more exhausting than the original problem.
Naomi told her father she would review what he had collected.
But she also gave him a warning.
"Dad, I can't use my military position to direct state police or force them to reopen a civilian case."
"I know that."