Then the New Mexico registration decals.
“You lost?”
“Heading toward Dallas.”
“You’re not on the best route.”
“Dispatch had me avoid construction.”
Boone spat tobacco near the pump.
“Dispatch tells you everything?”
Marcus smiled tiredly.
“Enough to keep me working.”
Pierce moved around the truck.
His flashlight struck the trailer.
Once.
Twice.
Metal rang.
Marcus watched through peripheral vision.
Boone asked:
“What are you hauling?”
“Nothing.”
Boone smiled.
“Nobody hauls nothing.”
“Deadhead back.”
“Open trailer?”
“Sealed because company policy.”
“Empty trailer sealed?”
Marcus shrugged.
“Not my policy.”
That answer irritated Boone.
Marcus could see it.
Boone liked simple fear.
Questions complicated the rhythm.
Pierce called from behind.
“Got equipment damage.”
Marcus did not turn.
“What damage?”
Pierce returned.
“Tail light housing cracked.”
Marcus knew the light was intact.
Boone nodded as if receiving confirmation of something expected.
“Commercial vehicle defect.”
“I checked it at my last stop.”
“Calling my deputy a liar?”
“No.”
Boone stepped closer.
“Sounded like it.”
Marcus lowered his eyes slightly.
“Just saying I checked it.”
Boone held out his hand.
“License.”
“Registration.”
“Log.”
“Shipping documents.”
Marcus retrieved the prepared paperwork slowly.
Boone barely looked.
He held Marcus’s commercial license up beside his face.
“Marcus Ellington.”
“Yes.”
“Where you from?”
“Albuquerque.”
“Family there?”
Marcus allowed a confused pause.
“Why does that matter?”
Boone smiled.
“Conversation.”
He handed the documents to Pierce.
“Run him.”
Pierce walked toward the cruiser.
Boone remained.
“You nervous?”
“Tired.”
“Hands shaking.”
They were not.
Marcus looked at them anyway.
“Too much coffee.”
Boone moved closer.
“We get drugs through here.”
“I don’t have drugs.”
“Everybody says that.”
“I believe you.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Boone’s smile hardened.
Marcus watched him make the decision.
It was visible.
Not because Boone discovered anything.
Because Boone had already chosen the outcome before he arrived.
“You mind if we look inside?”
“Yes.”
Boone blinked.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I mind.”
“I don’t consent.”
There it was.
The critical moment.
Boone could stop.
He could issue the equipment citation.
He could develop lawful grounds if any existed.
He could request a canine under legally appropriate circumstances.
He could simply leave.
Instead he laughed.
“Colton!”
Pierce returned quickly.
“No warrants.”
“License clean.”
Boone looked disappointed.
Then recovered.