“That sounds like a reason to call.”
The sheriff stood.
“Go home if you’re nervous.”
The lieutenant did not move.
Then the desk sergeant appeared at the office door.
“Sheriff.”
“What?”
“There’s an issue with her property.”
The sheriff sighed.
“What now?”
The desk sergeant held up a small black credential wallet.
Not opened fully.
Just enough that an embossed seal could be seen.
The sheriff stared.
“Where’d that come from?”
“Inside the handbag.”
“You searched it?”
“Inventory.”
“Good.”
The sergeant looked uncomfortable.
“It says State Civil Rights Enforcement Division.”
The office went completely quiet.
The sheriff’s expression did not immediately change.
Then he laughed.
“Fake.”
The lieutenant looked at him.
“Why fake?”
“Because people buy fake credentials.”
The desk sergeant shook his head.
“This isn’t novelty-shop quality.”
The sheriff extended his hand.
“Give it.”
The sergeant hesitated.
“Maybe we should verify first.”
The sheriff’s eyes sharpened.
“Give me the credential.”
The sergeant handed it over.
The sheriff opened it.
Read.
Photograph.
Seal.
Title.
State Attorney General’s Office.
Chief Civil Rights Enforcement Counsel.
His smile disappeared.
Then returned.
Different this time.
Forced.
“Anybody can print this.”
The lieutenant stared.
“You really want to bet the office on that?”
The sheriff snapped the wallet closed.
“I want dispatch to verify.”
The desk sergeant nodded.
“I already asked.”
The sheriff looked at him.
“What did they say?”
“They’re waiting on state confirmation.”
The sheriff exhaled.
“Good.”
He tossed the credential onto his desk.
“Until then, she’s a detainee.”
The lieutenant leaned closer.
“If that’s real—”
“It isn’t.”
“You don’t know.”
The sheriff looked at him.
“I know people.”
The lieutenant stared.
That sentence would later be quoted in an interview.
At the time, it simply sounded like confidence.
Then the phone rang.
Not the sheriff’s desk phone.
Not dispatch.
Not a mobile.
A sound came from the wall outside the office.
A sharp mechanical bell.
Once.
Everyone froze.
Then again.
The red phone.
It sat in a recessed wall cabinet beside the old emergency operations board.
Bright red handset.
No keypad except four preprogrammed buttons.
Installed after a courthouse hostage incident years earlier.
The line connected directly to the state emergency coordination center and several restricted government offices.