Rebecca nodded.
“I'll coordinate with the external investigators.”
Daniel swallowed.
Then added quietly.
“And make certain Vale receives the ordinary procedural protections that apply to anyone under investigation.”
Rebecca studied him.
For a moment, she seemed surprised.
Then nodded.
“Yes, Sheriff.”
Daniel turned toward the ambulance.
Marcus was sitting on a stretcher, holding his injured wrist against his chest. A paramedic had examined his breathing and was asking about pain in his shoulder and neck.
His cheek was swollen.
A small abrasion marked the side of his face.
And he kept looking toward the lawnmower.
Daniel approached.
“Son.”
Marcus raised his eyes.
“Dad, is my mower still there?”
The question nearly broke him.
Daniel looked toward the red machine.
It stood exactly where Marcus left it, beside a patch of freshly cut grass.
“Yes.”
Marcus nodded.
For a moment, his expression softened.
Then he whispered.
“I spent all week fixing that thing.”
Daniel placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I know.”
Marcus looked toward the deputy's SUV.
The blue lights were still flashing.
His breathing changed.
Daniel noticed immediately.
“Marcus?”
His son swallowed.
“I don't want him near me.”
Daniel looked toward Rebecca.
Then back at Marcus.
“He's been separated from you.”
Marcus nodded.
But his hands continued trembling.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he looked toward his father.
“Did he really not know who I was?”
Daniel considered the question.
“I don't know what he knew.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“He looked at me like I was stealing the mower.”
His father remained quiet.
Marcus continued.
“He didn't ask about the house. He didn't knock. He didn't even give me time to explain.”
His voice broke.
“He just decided.”
Daniel felt anger rising.
But he knew his son needed something more useful than a promise of retaliation.
He leaned closer.
“You're going to tell the investigators exactly what happened. You don't have to make it sound better or worse.”
Marcus nodded slowly.
“And I'm going to make sure you have support through this, as your father.”
For a moment, Marcus stared.
Then whispered.
“What about as sheriff?”
Daniel looked toward the deputy's vehicle.
His expression became painful.
“As sheriff, I have to make sure the department doesn't investigate itself through my anger.”
Marcus studied him.
Then asked.
“Does that mean you can't protect me?”
Daniel felt the question like a weight pressing against his chest.
He took a breath.
“It means I have to protect your chance to be believed without anyone being able to say I controlled the evidence.”
For a long moment, his son remained quiet.