The first responding cruiser arrived fast enough to throw a curtain of grit across the church sign. Officer Caleb Walsh stepped out before his car had completely stopped, one hand on his holster. He was thirty-one, pale beneath the brim of his cap, with the hard, eager expression of a man who had spent years trying to become the older officer he admired.
Deputy Omar Ellis came from the passenger side. He was twenty-four and still wore his rookie nerves openly. He had attended the academy less than a year earlier. Several of the instructors had taught that good policing was usually quiet, procedural, and boring. Nothing about the scene in front of him looked boring.
"What happened?" Walsh called.
"Armed traffickers," Maddox said. "Tried to pull something on me. Cuff them."
Ellis looked at the two people standing motionless beside the SUV. Dominic's hands were visible. Nyla's were raised. Neither was fighting. The extra gun was in Maddox's hand, not theirs.
"Sir," Ellis said cautiously, "should we secure the recovered weapon first?"
Maddox glared at him. "Do what you're told."
Walsh moved behind Dominic. "Hands back."
"I am complying," Dominic said. "My wallet is on the hood. It contains authentic FBI credentials. I am telling you my name and agency so there can be no misunderstanding. Please verify before taking any further action."
Walsh hesitated. "FBI?"
"He's lying," Maddox snapped. "They all say something when the cuffs come out."
"Do they all say they're assistant special agents in charge?" Dominic asked.
Walsh said nothing. He took Dominic's right wrist and brought it behind his back. Dominic offered no resistance, though fitting handcuffs around his wrists required Walsh to reposition his grip twice. A metal click sounded. Then another.
Omar turned to Nyla. His hands trembled slightly as he secured her wrists. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he whispered.
"Do not apologize for a decision you can still correct," Nyla answered quietly. "Tell your supervisor what you witnessed."
Ellis looked toward Maddox, who was returning the recovered pistol to its case. He said nothing else.
Walsh stepped back and studied the wallet lying in sunlight. "Rhett, maybe we should check."
"Fine," Maddox said, as though he were granting a favor. "I'll show you."