“It always worked.”
Ava looked toward her.
Hannah swallowed.
“You told her it didn't.”
Mercer said nothing.
Hannah's voice shook.
“But it does.”
Silence.
Ava looked up at the black dome.
Then back at Mercer.
One piece.
Another.
Another.
The record was building itself.
Sirens never came.
Federal teams rarely announced themselves that way unless urgency required it.
Instead, twelve minutes later, three dark SUVs turned into the sheriff's station parking lot.
Mercer saw them through the narrow exterior window.
He whispered something Ava could not hear.
Briggs stood beside the booking counter.
Hannah had stopped typing entirely.
Ava's phone remained on speaker.
Hale said:
“They're there.”
Ava nodded.
“Yes.”
The front door opened.
Four people entered first.
Plainclothes.
Badges displayed.
Two more followed.
The lead was Special Agent Mara Ellis, a forty-eight-year-old Black woman with a gray streak in her hair and the calm expression of someone who had already read too many reports about the building she was entering.
She saw Ava.
Then Mercer.
Then the cuffs on the counter.
Ellis's eyes narrowed.
“Ava.”
“I'm fine.”
Ellis glanced toward Mercer.
“That remains to be determined.”
Mercer stepped forward.
“Agent, there has been a misunderstanding.”
Ellis held up one hand.
“No.”
The sheriff stopped.
“I need to explain—”
“No.”
Her voice never rose.
“You will have an opportunity to give a recorded statement with counsel present if appropriate.”
“This is my station.”
Ellis looked around.
“Then you should be particularly interested in preserving what happened here.”
Mercer's mouth closed.
Two agents moved toward the booking camera system.
Another photographed the counter.
Another collected names.
Briggs looked as though he might be sick.
Hannah sat slowly.
Ellis approached Ava.
“Wrists?”
“Fine.”
“Vehicle?”
“Impounded.”
“Search?”
“Yes.”
“Anything planted?”
Ava looked toward Mercer.
“No.”
Not that she knew.
Ellis nodded.
“Good.”
Mercer snapped:
“Planted?”
Everyone looked at him.
Ava said nothing.
He continued:
“You people came here assuming we're criminals.”
Ellis turned.
“No.”
She spoke carefully.
“We came because residents, motorists, former employees, defense attorneys, business owners, and two neighboring law-enforcement agencies submitted complaints.”
Mercer scoffed.
“Complaints.”
“Yes.”
“Everybody complains about cops.”
Ellis looked at him.
“That sentence is why independent review exists.”
Mercer's face hardened.
Ava watched.
There were men who became cautious when consequences arrived.
Mercer became louder.
“Do you know what this county is like?”
Ellis said nothing.
“I keep drugs off those roads.”
“I keep thieves out.”
“I stop people who don't belong near our farms.”
Ava's expression changed.
There it was.
Ellis heard it too.
“People who don't belong?”
Mercer realized too late.
“That's not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“Criminals.”
Ellis nodded.
“Then say criminals.”
Mercer looked toward Ava.
“This woman refused a search.”
Ellis replied: