"Get him out."
Cole frowned.
"Why?"
"Because you need to stop this."
"What happened?"
Reynolds looked furious.
"You arrested the wrong man."
Cole stared at him.
"So?"
Reynolds stepped closer.
"Do you know who Jonathan Reed is?"
Cole hesitated.
"Some businessman."
Reynolds shook his head.
"That's what you think?"
Cole's expression changed.
"Who is he?"
Before Reynolds could answer, the front doors opened.
A man entered.
He was wearing a dark suit and a rain-soaked overcoat.
He moved quickly.
Two assistants followed behind him.
Everyone in the lobby turned.
The man didn't look around.
He walked directly toward Reynolds.
"Where is he?"
Reynolds swallowed.
"Commissioner—"
"Where is Reed?"
"He is in interrogation."
The man's face tightened.
"Who put him there?"
Nobody answered.
He repeated himself.
"Who put him in that room?"
Reynolds looked toward Cole.
Cole looked at Dalton's empty chair.
Then the commissioner saw Mercer.
He stopped.
For a moment, the entire station went silent.
The commissioner walked toward him.
"Daniel."
Mercer nodded.
"Marcus."
Marcus Hale was the District Attorney of Bellmont County.
And he looked absolutely furious.
"You were here when it happened?"
Mercer nodded.
"Most of it."
Hale closed his eyes.
"How bad?"
Mercer looked at the corridor.
"Bad enough."
Hale turned toward Reynolds.
"Get that door open."
Reynolds moved immediately.
Cole followed.
The group rushed down the hallway.
The interrogation room door opened.
Jonathan Reed was still sitting at the table.
His wrists remained cuffed behind him.
He looked at the doorway.
Hale stopped dead.
His eyes went immediately to the handcuffs.
Then to Dalton.
Then back to Reed.
"What the hell happened here?"
Dalton stood near the wall.
He suddenly looked much less confident.
"Sir, there was a misunderstanding."
Hale walked toward him.
"A misunderstanding?"
"Yes."
"Did you arrest him?"
Dalton hesitated.
"Yes."
"Did you put those cuffs on him?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you who he was?"
Dalton looked at Cole.
Hale noticed.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
"Did he show identification?"
"Yes."
"What identification?"
Dalton said nothing.
Hale's voice became colder.
"What identification did he show you?"
Dalton finally answered.
"Federal judicial identification."
The room became silent.
Hale looked at Reed.
Reed simply raised an eyebrow.
Hale turned back toward Dalton.
"You arrested a federal judge?"
Dalton's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Cole looked sick.
Reynolds stared at the floor.
Mercer stood in the doorway.
And Jonathan Reed finally spoke.
"Not just any federal judge."
Hale looked at him.
Reed continued:
"Judge Jonathan Reed."
Dalton's face drained of color.
The badge on Reed's wallet had not been decorative.
The man he had handcuffed, threatened, and physically intimidated was the federal judge assigned to oversee the corruption investigation that had been shaking Bellmont County for months.
And the District Attorney had personally come to the station because he had been expecting Judge Reed.
Not to arrest him.
To brief him.
Hale looked at the cuffs.
"Take those off."
Reed shook his head.
"No."
Everyone stared.
Hale frowned.
"Judge?"
"Leave them."
"Why?"
Reed looked directly at Dalton.
"Because he should remember how they felt."
Dalton swallowed.
Reed continued.
"And because there are cameras in this room."
Everyone looked toward the corner.
The camera light was still blinking.
Recording.
Reed leaned back.
"Let the footage speak."
Hale nodded slowly.
"Fair enough."
Then he turned toward the captain.
"Captain Reynolds, secure this room."
"Yes, sir."
"Nobody touches the recording."
"Understood."
"Nobody deletes anything."
"Understood."
Hale looked at Dalton.
"And nobody leaves."
Dalton's face had become pale.
"Sir, I can explain."
Hale stared at him.
"I'm sure you can."
He paused.
"But first, you're going to listen."
Then he pointed at the chair.
"Sit down."
Dalton sat.
For the first time that night, he looked afraid.
The station's conference room was packed.
Captain Reynolds.
Sergeant Cole.
Officer Dalton.
Officer Miller.
District Attorney Marcus Hale.
Judge Jonathan Reed.