“You really shouldn't touch that.”
Mercer looked back.
Then laughed.
“There she is again.”
He took the phone from Briggs.
Turned it in his hand.
“What's so special about this?”
Ava remained silent.
Mercer looked at the black case.
“No brand.”
“No carrier sticker.”
“Fancy.”
“Corporate phone?”
Silence.
“Boyfriend pays for it?”
Ava's expression did not change.
Mercer's grin returned.
“There we go.”
He placed the phone on the counter.
Then looked at Hannah.
“Log it.”
Hannah hesitated.
“Sheriff…”
“What?”
“The arrest basis.”
Mercer turned slowly.
“What about it?”
“I need an offense.”
“Obstruction.”
Hannah's eyes flicked toward Ava.
Then Mercer.
“Obstruction of what?”
The room went still.
Briggs looked uncomfortable.
Mercer's face darkened.
“Are you questioning me?”
Hannah immediately looked back at her monitor.
“No.”
“Good.”
Mercer turned toward Ava again.
She almost smiled.
Not because the situation was amusing.
Because the sheriff was losing control in exactly the direction she needed.
He saw the almost-smile.
That irritated him most.
“Something funny?”
Ava finally answered.
“Your clerk asked the question you should have answered before putting me in cuffs.”
Mercer grabbed her upper arm more firmly.
“Watch it.”
“Or what?”
His eyes narrowed.
“You like pushing, don't you?”
Ava leaned a fraction closer instead of pulling away.
“You arrested me because I said you couldn't search my car without consent.”
“I arrested you because you interfered with an investigation.”
“You were investigating your own imagination.”
Mercer moved so close that Hannah looked up again.
The sheriff lowered his voice.
“That mouth of yours is going to get you in real trouble someday.”
Ava's reply came immediately.
“Today seems available.”
Briggs turned away, hiding something that might have been a smile.
Mercer saw him.
“Outside.”
Briggs froze.
“Sheriff?”
“Go check the impound vehicle.”
“There isn't—”
“Outside.”
Briggs left.
The door closed.
Mercer returned his attention to Ava.
“Now.”
His voice softened in a way that made the room feel less safe rather than more.
“You want to make this easier on yourself?”
Ava stared.
“I'm listening.”
“Tell me why you were really driving through my county.”
“I already did.”
“Business.”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Private.”
“Who were you meeting?”
“None of your concern.”
“You see?”
He smiled.
“That's the problem.”
“You keep telling me what isn't my concern.”
“And I keep finding ways to make it mine.”
Ava felt the anger underneath her calm.
Not fear.
Not yet.
Anger.
Because she had heard versions of this before.
Not always aimed at her.
In interviews.
Complaints.
Depositions.
Statements from motorists.
A waitress driving home after midnight.
A delivery contractor stopped with sixteen hundred dollars in legitimate cash.
A college student ordered out of his car because Mercer allegedly “didn't like the way he was looking around.”
A divorced mother whose trunk was searched after she refused to answer questions about where she had been.
None of those incidents alone had created the investigation.
Patterns had.
Ava was standing inside the pattern now.
She had not expected that.