Pharmacy.
Diner.
Municipal building.
Sheriff’s office attached to a one-story county jail.
American flags hung from lampposts.
A banner announced an upcoming peach festival.
Sarah looked out the window.
People went about their day.
Nobody knew the woman passing in the back of a patrol cruiser had spent the morning reviewing continuity plans affecting thousands of government personnel.
Nobody needed to.
That was what bothered her most.
Authority should not depend on discovering someone’s résumé.
Boyd parked beside the sheriff’s office.
He opened Sarah’s door.
“Out.”
She shifted carefully.
The cuffs made balance awkward.
He grabbed her elbow.
She stood.
Toby came around the vehicle.
“Sheriff, I can process the car inventory.”
Boyd looked at him.
“I know you can.”
Toby waited.
“That means do it.”
Sarah met Toby’s eyes.
He looked away.
Inside, the booking area smelled of old coffee and disinfectant.
A ceiling fan rotated slowly.
Two holding cells sat behind reinforced glass.
A dispatcher worked behind a partition.
A middle-aged deputy looked up from paperwork.
Boyd walked Sarah toward the counter.
“Got one for disorderly, resisting, failure to comply.”
The deputy stared at Sarah.
Then at Boyd.
“What happened?”
“Traffic stop.”
The deputy’s eyebrows rose.
Sarah remained silent.
Boyd removed the cuffs.
Sarah brought her hands forward.
Red marks circled both wrists.
Toby saw them.
His expression changed.
Boyd pointed to the counter.
“Empty your pockets.”
Sarah complied.
Lip balm.
Rental keys.
Wallet.
A small folded note.
Then the matte-black communications device.
Toby recognized immediately that it was unusual.
The booking deputy did too.
Boyd picked it up.
No visible company logo.
No ordinary touchscreen.
Only a narrow biometric strip and a recessed security interface.
“What’s this?”
“A secure government communications device.”
Boyd chuckled.
“Of course it is.”
“It should not be handled unnecessarily.”
He turned it over in his hand.
“Burner phone?”
“You CIA?”
Boyd smiled.
“Secret agent?”
“Then relax.”
He tossed the device into a clear evidence tray.
It landed with a hard plastic crack.
Sarah’s eyes followed it.
“Sheriff Cleary.”
“Do not tamper with that device.”
He leaned across the counter.
“Lady, you are in my jail.”
“So stop giving orders.”
Toby said quietly:
“She said it’s government property.”
“And?”
“Might be better to bag it separately.”
Boyd picked it up again.
Sarah’s voice sharpened.
“Put it down.”
Everyone in the room stopped.
It was the first time her command tone had surfaced.
Not loud.
Not emotional.
But something in the delivery carried years of institutional authority.
Boyd stared.
Then smiled slowly.
“There she is.”
Sarah remained motionless.
He held the device in one hand.
“You want this?”
“Sure looks like it.”
“I want you to preserve government property exactly as recovered.”
Boyd stepped around the counter.
“Maybe you forgot where you are.”
Sarah turned toward him.
“I know exactly where I am.”