Inside, the facility smelled of ozone from ancient air conditioning units, floor wax, and decades of neglect.
Boyd Cleary marched Sarah through the double glass doors, holding her by the upper arm with a grip tight enough to leave bruises through her suit jacket.
He paraded her past the front counter with the triumphant air of a big-game hunter returning with a prize trophy.
Behind the desk sat Deputy Toby Miller, a twenty-four-year-old rookie with pale skin, oversized ears, and an uniform that looked two sizes too big for him.
Toby had been working for Boyd for less than eight months, and during those eight months, he had developed a constant, simmering pit of anxiety in his stomach regarding his boss’s methods.
Toby looked up from his paperwork, saw Sarah in handcuffs, and immediately froze.Something about the woman standing before him made Toby’s instincts scream.
She didn’t look like the usual speeders, drunk drivers, or local vagrants Boyd dragged into the station.
She didn’t have the wild, darting eyes of someone who had done something wrong.
She stood perfectly still, her spine straight as a steel rod, her eyes surveying every inch of the room—cataloging the exits, the security cameras, the radio equipment, and the names on the badges—with ruthless, systematic efficiency.
“Got us a real lively one, Toby,” Boyd chuckled boisterously, shoving Sarah toward the steel booking counter.
“Lady thinks because she drives a nice rental car from Washington D.C., she doesn’t have to follow the laws of Oak Haven County.”
“Sheriff…”
Toby stammered softly, looking nervously at Sarah’s immaculate clothes and composed face.
“Did she… did she fight you?”
“She had an attitude,” Boyd said dismissively, tossing her handbag onto the counter.
“Unload her pockets.
Book her for disorderly, resisting, and lane violation.
I’m gonna go pour myself a fresh cup of coffee.”
Sarah stood silently in front of the counter while Toby timidly unlocked her handcuffs to allow her to empty her pockets.“Ma’am,” Toby murmured under his breath, carefully avoiding looking her in the eye.
“Just put everything right here in the plastic tray, please.”
Sarah reached into her suit pockets.
First came a leather cardholder containing her credit cards and civilian identification.
Next was a tube of lip balm.
Then the keys to the rental Malibu.
Finally, Sarah withdrew a fifth item and placed it gently in the center of the plastic evidence tray.It was a sleek, matte-black communications device.
It was slightly larger than a standard smartphone, but noticeably heavier, encased in a thick, textured alloy shell.
It had no commercial brand logos—no Apple, no Samsung, no Google.
It possessed no physical home buttons, no visible SIM card tray, and its screen was completely black, displaying only a small, glowing red LED indicator in the upper corner alongside a biometric fingerprint scanner.
Boyd walked back over holding a styrofoam cup of black coffee.
He looked down into the plastic tray and picked up the black device, turning it over in his rough, grease-stained hands.
“What the hell is this supposed to be?”
Boyd scoffed, pressing his thumb against the blank screen.
Nothing happened.
“Some kind of burner phone?
What are you hiding on here, Sarah?”
Sarah looked at him, her eyes locking onto his with absolute stillness.
“That is a secure, encrypted government communications device issued by the Executive branch of the United States Department of Defense.
It operates on a restricted satellite spectrum.
I strongly advise you to put it back in the tray and do not attempt to tamper with its biometric seal.”
Boyd burst out into a loud, braying laugh, spraying a tiny mist of coffee onto the floor.“Listen to her, Toby!
‘Executive branch!’