"The truth."
"Which part?"
"That nobody should have to be a decorated soldier to survive a traffic stop with their rights intact."
Renee looked back at her.
"That's exactly what I've been thinking."
Denise smiled sadly.
"I figured."
Investigator Foster's next interview was with Cole Barrett.
He arrived with an attorney.
Barrett was twenty-nine years old and had worked for the sheriff's department for just over four years.
His personnel file contained several commendations and two minor disciplinary notices.
Neither involved excessive force.
Foster began with routine questions.
Where had he been assigned?
Who had instructed him to patrol County Road Forty-Seven?
Why had he followed Renee's vehicle?
Barrett gave short answers.
He said Mercer had identified suspicious driving.
He said Renee had refused commands.
He said he believed the stop was lawful.
Then Foster placed a photograph on the table.
It showed the abandoned service station.
"Why were you parked here?"
Barrett looked at it.
"Taking a break."
"For eighteen minutes?"
"Yes."
"With Officer Mercer?"
"Yes."
"Did you receive a dispatch assignment?"
"No."
"Did you observe Colonel Lawson commit a traffic violation?"
Barrett shifted.
"Mercer did."
"What violation?"
"He said she was driving erratically."
Foster opened another folder.
"Her vehicle camera shows steady driving below the speed limit. The patrol GPS records show no abrupt maneuvers until your vehicles surrounded her."
Barrett said nothing.
Foster continued.
"Did you see her driving erratically?"
"No."
"Then why did you assist with the stop?"
"Mercer was senior."
"That doesn't answer the question."
Barrett looked at his attorney.
The attorney leaned forward.
"My client would like a break."
Foster nodded.
They paused for fifteen minutes.
When the interview resumed, Barrett appeared more nervous.
Foster placed another document in front of him.
"Your body camera was manually deactivated eleven minutes before the stop."
Barrett stared at the page.
"That's what the system says."
"Did you deactivate it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Battery issue."
"The maintenance records show the battery was charged."
Barrett swallowed.
Foster waited.
Finally, he said, "Mercer told me to turn it off."
"Why?"
"He said we were doing a vehicle check."
"What kind of vehicle check?"
Barrett looked toward his attorney again.
This time, the attorney said nothing.
Foster leaned forward.
"Deputy Barrett, I want you to understand something. We are not asking whether you liked Mercer or whether you respected his experience. We're asking whether you participated in an unlawful stop and an assault."
Barrett stared at his hands.
Then he whispered, "I didn't know it would go that far."
Foster kept her voice steady.
"What did you think would happen?"
Barrett closed his eyes.
"I thought we'd scare her."
"Why?"
He did not answer.
Foster waited.
Finally, Barrett spoke.
"Because she drove past the station."
Foster frowned.
"What station?"
"The old one."
"The abandoned service station?"
He nodded.
"Why would that matter?"
Barrett's face tightened.
"Because Mercer said nobody was supposed to be watching that place."
The room became very quiet.
Foster glanced at Grant, who had joined the interview.
Grant leaned forward.
"Deputy Barrett, what was happening at that service station?"
Barrett stared at the table.
Then he said something that changed the direction of the investigation.
"Ask Captain Harlan."
The old Pine Ridge service station stood six miles from the county line.
Its windows were boarded, its pumps had been removed, and weeds grew through cracks in the asphalt.
To passing drivers, it looked abandoned.
But investigators discovered that electricity was still connected.
A security camera had been installed above the rear entrance.
And according to utility records, the building consumed far more power than an empty property should.
State investigators obtained a search warrant based on evidence developed through interviews, financial records, and surveillance.
When they entered the building, they found an office behind the former storage area.
Inside were filing cabinets, a computer workstation, and several locked boxes.
The contents were not dramatic in the way television crime shows often portray evidence.
There were no walls covered with photographs.
No elaborate maps.
No secret tunnels.
There were spreadsheets.
Receipt books.
Vehicle records.
Copies of towing invoices.
And dozens of envelopes containing cash.
Investigators also found a ledger listing vehicle stops, dates, amounts collected, and initials corresponding to several sheriff's department employees.
Some entries were marked with the letters T.M.
Others with C.B.
A third set contained the initials R.H.
Foster stood beside a desk while technicians photographed the room.
Grant examined a folder.
"Look at this."
He showed her a series of invoices from a private towing company.
The company had billed drivers for storage fees on vehicles that had never been formally impounded.
Several payments had been made in cash.
Foster flipped through the documents.
"Who owns the towing company?"
Grant checked the business registration.
"Richard Harlan's brother-in-law."
Foster looked toward the rear door.
For months, perhaps years, drivers had been stopped on County Road Forty-Seven.
Some had paid money to avoid invented penalties.
Others had been pressured into using a towing service connected to the captain's family.
And the abandoned service station appeared to have served as an unofficial collection and recordkeeping site.
The scheme was not yet fully proven.
But the evidence was substantial enough to justify a much broader investigation.
Foster called her supervisor.
"We need financial crimes investigators," she said. "And we need to preserve every department record connected to these officers."
Her supervisor asked whether she believed Captain Harlan was involved.