He paused.
"The problem is that you believed you didn't need a lawful reason until you discovered I had one."
Thornton stared at him.
And for the first time in his career, the police chief began to understand that the familiar explanations he had relied upon might no longer be enough.
By lunchtime, news of the coffee shop confrontation had begun spreading through Ridgemont.
A customer had recorded part of the arrest on her phone.
The video showed Thornton gripping Aaron's vest.
It showed the spilled coffee.
It captured the chief shoving him against the counter and fastening handcuffs around his wrists.
The video ended shortly before state investigators entered.
That incomplete recording attracted enormous attention.
People argued about what it meant.
Some insisted Thornton must have had a reason to act.
Others recognized the behavior described in years of complaints.
Within hours, the café owner issued a statement confirming that Aaron had been a paying customer and that she had not asked police to remove him.
The State Bureau of Professional Standards confirmed that an investigation was underway.
It did not disclose every aspect of the broader case.
The investigation required careful handling.
Evidence needed to be preserved.
Witnesses needed to be protected.
And accusations against other officers could not be treated as proven merely because the chief had behaved improperly inside the café.
Aaron supported that caution.
He had spent years telling investigators to avoid building cases backward from the conclusion they wanted.
Now he had become a direct victim of the conduct under review.
That created a problem.
He could no longer serve as the principal decision-maker for matters involving his own detention.
The bureau's legal counsel recommended that he step aside from supervision of the related case.
Aaron resisted at first.
"I know these files better than anyone."
Elaine Porter listened patiently.
"That's exactly why you'll be an important witness."
"I've spent three years on this."
"I know."
"And you're telling me to walk away?"
"I'm telling you that you cannot be the victim, primary witness, and person directing investigative decisions concerning your own arrest."
Aaron looked toward the window.
Elaine continued.
"If we want this case to withstand scrutiny, we have to follow the standards we're asking everyone else to follow."
He knew she was right.
That did not make it easy.
For three years, Aaron had organized the investigation.
He had studied the complaints.
He had interviewed witnesses.
He had spent hundreds of hours inside Common Grounds.
Now someone else would carry the case forward.
He exhaled.