“I decide whether this place is peaceful.”
“I decide whether patrol cars sit outside.”
“I decide how often you get inspected.”
“I decide whether customers feel safe coming here.”
Celeste said:
“You decide quite a lot.”
“That’s right.”
“Does the chief know?”
Voss smiled.
“Don’t worry about the chief.”
“Internal affairs?”
He laughed.
“All roads come back to the same building.”
Then he spread his arms.
“In this town, I am the law.”
The sentence hung in the store.
Celeste studied him.
She had heard men say versions of it before.
Different countries.
Different uniforms.
Same mistake.
She said:
“You just said something very dangerous.”
Voss hesitated.
Only for a second.
Then he laughed.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Have the money.”
He turned.
Mercer remained by the door.
For one moment he looked at Celeste.
His expression seemed almost apologetic.
Then he followed the others out.
The bell rang.
The store went quiet.
Marcus emerged from the aisle.
His hand shook around the phone.
“I got it.”
Celeste looked at him.
“All of it?”
“I think.”
“You need to make a copy and keep the original untouched.”
Marcus stared.
“You knew I was recording?”
“I saw your reflection in the freezer door.”
He blinked.
“Of course you did.”
That recording changed the case.
Not by itself.
But it gave investigators Voss’s own words.
Ruiz obtained the necessary legal approvals for the next steps.
Financial subpoenas began going out.
Public records were pulled.
Personnel files preserved.
Prior complaints collected before anyone inside the Marston Police Department was notified.
Investigators found something almost immediately.
Several business owners had withdrawn cash within twenty-four hours of documented police “courtesy visits.”
Repeatedly.
A company called Blue Sentinel Consulting appeared in the finances of two officers’ relatives.
It provided “security assessment services.”
No website.
No visible employees.
Registered agent: Voss’s brother-in-law.
Another company owned by Dane’s cousin received deposits that lined up suspiciously with dates victims described making payments.
That still did not prove the money was the same money.
But the pattern strengthened.
Then investigators examined Internal Affairs Sergeant Mark Ellison.
His files were remarkably thin.
Eleven complaints involving Voss over five years.
Nine closed as unsubstantiated.
Two classified as policy misunderstandings.
Average investigation length:
Eight days.
No meaningful witness interviews in several cases.
No body-camera reviews documented.
No financial analysis.
No follow-up with complainants.
One complaint disappeared from the electronic index but remained referenced in an email backup.
Reeves looked at Ruiz.
“That’s not incompetence.”
Ruiz answered:
“Not yet.”
“What do you call it?”
“A reason for another subpoena.”
The next contact with Voss occurred under controlled circumstances.
Celeste agreed to make the payment he had demanded.
The investigators handled the operation.
She did not need to know every technical detail.
She was told where to stand.
What she could safely say.
What not to do.
She was reminded repeatedly that if anything changed, she should disengage.
Celeste found that almost amusing.
For twenty-two years she had delivered those instructions to other people.
Now Agent Ruiz was giving them to her.
“You’re smiling,” Ruiz said.
“Am I?”
“You are.”