The three black SUVs reached the sheriff's office as the late sun lowered behind the courthouse roof. They pulled into the public parking area without sirens or flashing lights, and their occupants stepped out carrying credentials, folders, and ordinary working bags. From the station window Crowe could see a woman in a dark blazer leading the group. He thought briefly of refusing to speak with them, then realized too many officials had already heard his version of events to make avoidance useful.
Laya stood beside him at the window. "Sheriff," she said, "they're here."
"I can see that," he snapped.
"I just wanted you to know the county attorney called again. He said not to make any more changes to the reports."
Crowe turned toward her so sharply that she stepped back. "Did he say why?"
"He said the originals have to be preserved. All versions."
At the holding-area window, Serena watched the visitors arrive and recognized Brier Solless from earlier briefings. She also recognized the professional habit of checking with local officials rather than pretending jurisdiction disappeared whenever federal vehicles entered a parking lot. Brier's eyes met Serena's through the glass, and she gave a small nod. Serena returned it, relieved that the people who had come understood this was a legal problem and an operational disruption, not an opportunity for theater.
Nolan noticed the exchange. "You know them?"
"I know what kind of work they do," Serena replied. "That's enough for now."
Brier entered the station, presented her credentials, and asked to speak with the supervising official. Crowe stepped forward before anyone could answer. His uniform shirt was still neatly pressed, but the controlled smile he wore at county events was absent. He placed both hands on the counter and announced that any questions about a detainee should come through him.
"Special Agent Brier Solless," she said. "I'm here with investigators working on a federal matter. We need to confirm the present status of Serena Hail, preserve the evidence related to her detention, and speak with everyone involved."
"This is my county," Crowe replied. "Federal business doesn't let you march in and take over my office."
"That's correct," Brier answered. "I'm not here to take over your office. I'm here to investigate what happened in it, and I have coordinated with the appropriate state and federal authorities. Those are different things."
The distinction unsettled him because it left no exaggerated claim for him to knock down. He had expected threats and demands, the kind of language he could portray as arrogant interference. Instead, Brier asked for the incident number, the location of the arrested woman, the identity of the arresting officer, and the status of the property. Each question was narrow, reasonable, and difficult to dismiss without making him look worse.