Mercer closed the trunk and picked up the dash camera from the patrol car hood. Maya watched him take possession of it. Be careful what you decide never happened. Mercer did not answer. Mercer walked back toward his patrol car with the dash camera in one hand.

He opened the driver's door, placed the device on the center console, then looked toward Noah, finished the tow request. Noah remained beside the Bentley. You're taking her in now. Restricted county files in the trunk. She won't explain where they came from.

Yes, I'm taking her in. You still haven't verified the control number. We'll verify it at the station. Noah looked toward Maya, who stood beside the second patrol vehicle with her hands cuffed behind her back. What about the Bentley?

Impound it. On what basis? Mercer gave him a hard look. Evidence. Noah did not argue further.

He stepped away and called for a tow truck. Mercer got into his patrol car and shut the door for several seconds. He sat without moving. The dash camera rested beside him. He picked it up and turned it over until he found the memory card slot.

After removing the card, he inserted it into the reader connected to his patrol computer. A list of video files appeared. Mercer selected the most recent one. The recording began before the argument beside the Bentley. It showed Maya stepping out, locking the doors, and placing the key in her pocket.

His own voice came through clearly. Open the car. Hand over the key. Maya's answer followed. You don't have a search warrant.

I refuse. Mercer watched himself step closer. Then Noah's voice appeared in the recording. The registration is clean. Mercer paused the video.

He looked through the windshield toward Noah, who was still speaking with dispatch. Then he resumed playback. The footage showed the first broken window, the second the remaining windows. Maya standing away from the car with her hands visible. No aggressive movement, no attempt to interfere, no threat.

The camera had recorded Mercer leaning through the broken window and searching the passenger compartment after the vehicle registration had already been confirmed. He skipped forward. The trunk opening appeared next, then the black case. Maya warning him not to break the seal. Noah telling him to verify the control number first.

Mercer stopped the video again. His breathing had slowed, but his face was tense. If the recording remained intact, his report would have to explain every decision visible on the screen. He opened the file menu and selected delete. A confirmation message appeared.

He accepted it. Then he deleted the remaining files from the card. After that, he formatted the storage. The computer asked for confirmation. He selected yes.

When the process finished, the directory showed no files. Mercer removed the card, waited several seconds, then inserted it again. Still empty, he formatted it a second time. No files remained. Mercer leaned back in the seat and looked out at the Bentley.

From where he sat, he could see broken glass on the seats and pavement. The older woman was still nearby with her phone. Noah was now speaking with the tow driver who had just arrived. Mercer placed the memory card back into the camera and turned the unit off. He opened the patrol car door and stepped outside.

Noah looked toward him. What were you doing? Checking the camera. Anything on it. Mercer walked past him.

Corrupted. Noah watched him for a moment. It was recording when you took it. Recording doesn't mean the files saved. Noah glanced at the device in Mercer's hand.

You already checked the storage? Mercer stopped. You have a problem with that? I'm asking and I answered. Mercer placed the camera inside a clear evidence bag but did not seal it.

Let's go. Maya was placed in the rear of Noah's patrol vehicle for transport. Mercer took custody of the black case and secured it in his own unit. Before Noah closed the rear door, Maya looked at him. Who has the camera?

Mercer? Was it logged? Noah hesitated. Not yet. Maya nodded once.

Remember that? Noah closed the door. The drive to the Carver County Sheriff's Office took less than half an hour. By the time they arrived, daylight had begun to fade. The sheriff's headquarters was a low brick county building near the courthouse square.

Sunday evening, staffing was light. Only a few patrol deputies, dispatchers, and administrative employees were inside. A local weather report played on a television mounted near the booking area. Someone had left a paper cup of coffee beside a stack of forms. A deputy at a desk was finishing a reheated chicken sandwich while typing an incident report.

When Maya entered in handcuffs, several people looked up. No one recognized her. The booking officer was a woman in her late 50s with short gray hair and reading glasses hanging from a cord around her neck. Name: Maya Williams. Date of birth.

Maya answered, "Aress?" She provided it. The officer typed the information into the system. Occupation. Maya paused briefly. County administration.

The booking officer looked up. What kind of county administration? Transition work. Mercer stood behind Maya. She was found with restricted internal review material.

The booking officer glanced at him, then back at Maya. Any weapons? No. Medication we need to know about? No.

The woman nodded and continued the intake. Noah carried the dash camera into evidence processing. A property deputy looked at the bag. What's wrong with it? Mercer answered before Noah could.

Media corrupted in the field. The property deputy typed the description. Any recoverable files? None. Noah looked at Mercer.

The answer came too quickly. He had seen the green recording indicator on the road. He had heard Mercer ask how long it had been running. Now, the camera had supposedly arrived with nothing usable. Noah said the unit was active when it was seized.