Did anyone verify the control number on that case? We're working on it. That sounds like a no. Has he been formally charged? Puit didn't answer that one.
Toiver had come out of the hallway behind his captain, and Frank Ostrander glanced at a page in his file, then looked at Toiver's name tag a moment longer than necessary. Toiver noticed. I'd like him brought out, Captain. You're asking me to interrupt an active investigation. I'm not asking you to do anything. Not yet.
Naomi looked up at the clock above the booking desk. It was 11:58. The room went quiet in a way it never did. The dispatcher stopped typing.
The property clerk put down his sandwich. Cara stood beside the evidence workstation with her arms crossed tight and Gil Harmon leaned in the doorway of the breakroom with his coffee halfway to his mouth. Every head in the building turned toward the clock.
The minute hand clicked. Midnight. Frank Ostrander drew out a single certified document with the county seal pressed into the top and Naomi turned it around on the counter. Now bring him out. On whose authority? On his.
Puit looked down. Below the county seal in plain type was a name and a title. Lennox Hargrove, Sheriff of Ridley County. Effective 12:00 midnight Monday. Puit read it twice. His face did not move, but the hand resting on the counter slowly closed into a fist and stayed that way.
Toiver read it over his shoulder and the color left his face so fast he looked sick. He never told us, he whispered. Nobody answered him. A deputy went to the interview room.
A minute later, Lennox walked out into the main office with no cuffs on his wrists and his coat still spotted with rain. He didn't smile. He didn't look at Toiver. He looked first at the evidence table, at the fresh bag around the black case, at the damaged equipment tag on the dash camera. He took it all in the way he had been trained to for 26 years. Then he looked at Puit.
Naomi handed him a copy of the appointment. Sheriff Hargrove. Thank you, Naomi. Sheriff, if you'd just told us who you were, none of this would have I know that's the problem.
Lennox turned to the room. His voice was not loud. It didn't need to be. As of this moment, he said, "Nobody deletes, edits, moves, shreds, or reclassifies anything connected to this incident. Not a file, not a bag, not a keystroke."
Sheriff, you're personally involved. You can't run this investigation. I'm not going to. Naomi, call the State Bureau of Investigation. I want an independent team here tonight. I won't lead the fact-finding in a case where I was the one in handcuffs.