"Renata, the people behind this operation are making mistakes because they're afraid."
I studied him.
"How do you know?"
He opened his folder.
"Because somebody tried to alter a transportation record after the relevant documents had already been preserved."
My heartbeat quickened.
"Who?"
Thomas looked directly at me.
"The attempted change came from an account associated with Ward's office."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I looked toward the window.
The summer sky was bright.
The street outside was quiet.
And somewhere beyond those peaceful houses, people with respectable jobs and expensive vehicles were trying to hide what they had done with government property.
I turned back.
"Then keep following the records."
Thomas nodded.
"We are."
He stood.
Then paused beside the doorway.
"One more thing."
I looked up.
"What?"
"The FBI has asked to speak with Ruth Okapor."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Her video is important, and someone may have tried to contact her after the stop."
I stood immediately.
"Contact her how?"
Thomas held up one hand.
"Renata, don't jump ahead. The investigators are verifying it."
I stared.
He continued.
"But we believe someone connected to Garrett wanted to know whether she still had the original recording."
I looked toward the chair where Ruth had sat beside me.
The woman who had offered water.
The woman who had refused to lower her phone.
The woman who had called me baby while my wrists were still shaking.
I felt anger rising again.
"Thomas."
He nodded.
"I know."
I took a breath.
"She shouldn't have to be afraid because she told the truth."
His expression hardened.
"Agreed."
And that was when I realized the investigation wasn't only about what happened to me.
It was about everyone the men behind this operation believed they could frighten.
The drivers.
The accountants.
The witnesses.
The younger deputies.
The people who paid towing fees because they couldn't afford lawyers.
The people who signed forms they didn't understand because a uniformed officer told them they had no choice.
And the people who never filed complaints because they knew nobody would believe them.
The more records investigators examined, the more of those people they found.
The next discovery came from a woman named Maria Santos.
She was fifty-one, a single mother who worked two jobs and lived in a small town east of the county line. Her son had been stopped by Garrett nearly a year earlier while driving a used pickup home from work.
The deputy claimed the truck's identification information was suspicious.
The vehicle was towed.
No criminal charges followed.
But Westbrook demanded several thousand dollars in storage and administrative fees.
Maria borrowed money from relatives to recover the truck.
By the time she paid the debt, she had fallen behind on her rent.