“Investigative detention.”
Brooks ignored him.
She looked at Adrian.
“Were you under arrest?”
“I was handcuffed.”
“I was being moved toward the patrol vehicle.”
“No formal charge was stated.”
County Captain Michael Greene arrived.
He looked at Wells.
“What happened?”
Wells spoke quickly.
“Suspicious person, possible stolen military identity, refused lawful search—”
Adrian said nothing.
Greene looked at the two stars.
Then at Brooks.
Then at Pike.
Pike looked like he wanted to disappear.
Brooks said:
“Where is Judge Ross’s vehicle?”
Adrian pointed.
“Right there.”
“Was it searched?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Wells interrupted.
“He refused.”
Brooks looked at him.
“That is not a problem.”
Wells’s face hardened.
Adrian almost smiled.
Brooks approached the Lincoln with Adrian.
“Sir, may I retrieve your federal credential from wherever you indicate?”
“Yes.”
“Center console.”
She opened only after Adrian unlocked the vehicle.
He handed her key himself.
Inside, directly visible:
Federal judicial credential.
Military retirement documents.
A sealed U.S. court security packet.
Behind the driver seat, the garment bag had shifted.
A corner of black judicial robe showed through.
Brooks pulled nothing else.
She verified credential.
Then looked at Wells.
“Identity confirmed.”
Greene’s face went pale.
Wells said:
“We know.”
Brooks looked at Adrian.
“What would you like to do?”
That question irritated him.
He understood why she asked.
But it was dangerous.
“I would like the same process that would occur if I were not a judge.”
Brooks nodded.
“Medical documentation.”
“Statements.”
“Evidence preservation.”
“Yes.”
“Independent review.”
“Yes.”
“And I will not direct personnel action.”
Greene looked relieved.
Too relieved.
Adrian noticed.
He turned to him.
“Captain Greene.”
“Yes, Judge.”
“Do not mistake my refusal to direct punishment for lack of concern.”
Greene’s relief disappeared.
“I understand.”
“No.”
Adrian looked at Wells.
Then Pike.
“None of us knows yet exactly what the complete record shows.”
“Preserve it.”
“Then determine.”
Brooks gave a tiny nod.
Wells stared at Adrian with an expression difficult to name.
Maybe confusion.
He had expected rage.
Threat.
Do you know who I am?
Adrian gave him none.
That would frighten Wells more later.
Not because Adrian was merciful.
Because he was procedural.