Warren was promising that the truth would vindicate his department.
I wondered whether he genuinely believed that.
Or whether he had spent so many years confusing power with innocence that he could no longer imagine the difference.
The next break came from an unexpected place.
A county dispatcher agreed to speak with investigators.
She had worked in emergency communications for nine years and had repeatedly noticed irregular requests involving Westbrook Recovery. Certain deputies made towing arrangements privately, then asked dispatchers to enter incomplete or delayed information into the official system.
Sometimes the paperwork arrived hours later.
Other times, the details never fully matched the initial call.
She had questioned the practice.
A supervisor told her it was none of her concern.
Then, on the afternoon of my stop, she received a request to create a delayed entry for a suspicious vehicle.
The request came from a senior sheriff's office administrator.
It described a black Rolls-Royce Phantom.
The time was listed before Garrett activated his emergency lights.
There was no associated theft report.
No complaint from a registered owner.
No documented traffic violation.
And no ordinary police intelligence bulletin supporting the stop.
The dispatcher had refused to enter information she believed was misleading.
She kept the original communication.
When investigators obtained it, the document provided a direct connection between the sheriff's senior staff and the planned interception of my vehicle.
The administrator initially claimed he was merely relaying a legitimate concern.
But investigators recovered additional communications showing that the description came from someone associated with the hotel security contractor.
The vehicle's location had been reported shortly after my meeting with Elise.
The message was forwarded through a private contact.
Then it reached Warren Pike's office.
From there, an instruction went to Garrett.
The wording was short.
Hold the vehicle for recovery. Secure the case. No unnecessary attention.
I stared at that sentence when Thomas eventually summarized the finding for me.
"No unnecessary attention," I repeated.
He nodded.
I looked toward him.
"Garrett smashed my windshield in front of a witness."
Thomas's expression was grim.
"Yes."
I gave a humorless laugh.
"The man couldn't even follow a corrupt instruction competently."
Thomas looked down.
"His actions certainly exposed more than the conspirators intended."
I leaned back.
For several seconds, I thought about the contradiction.
The people behind the plan had wanted a quiet interception.
They apparently believed a deputy could stop my vehicle, create a pretext for detention, and have it moved to a friendly towing facility before anyone important began asking questions.
They were counting on the ordinary habits of an unchecked system.
A suspicious-vehicle report.
A compliant deputy.
A tow truck.
A storage yard.
A little paperwork.
And a driver who would struggle to challenge the process after the vehicle disappeared behind a fence.