The birthday cake was still untouched.
Digger slept nearby.
Roy watched the sunset.
His phone rang.
Dana.
"We have enough."
Roy sat up.
"How much?"
"Enough for federal charges against Brett Hoyt and Sal Mercer."
"And the sheriff?"
"Almost."
Roy nodded.
"What do you need?"
"One witness."
"Who?"
"Mercer's former partner."
Roy frowned.
"Where is he?"
"Out of state."
"Why?"
"He quit six months ago."
"Can you bring him back?"
Dana smiled.
"We already did."
Roy looked at Digger.
"Good."
Dana continued.
"And Roy?"
"Yes?"
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Your motorcycle."
Roy didn't answer.
"We found the auction records."
Roy's eyes hardened.
"Go on."
"Hoyt had already planned to seize it."
Roy said nothing.
"He recognized the value before he even stopped you."
The room became very quiet.
"So it wasn't random."
"No."
Roy closed his eyes.
The motorcycle hadn't been destroyed because Hoyt lost his temper.
It had been destroyed because he wanted to show everyone what happened when someone resisted him.
That made Roy's decision easier.
"Let's finish it."
Dana asked:
"Are you sure you want to be there?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he should know."
"Know what?"
"Who he picked."
The Morning the Government Arrived
On the fourth morning, Roy put on his faded leather vest.
Digger climbed into the passenger seat of his truck.
Roy opened the door.
"Ready?"
The old dog looked at him.
Roy smiled.
"Me too."
The Iron Saints were already waiting outside the sheriff's office.
Twelve motorcycles stood in a line.
No one revved their engines.
No one shouted.
They simply stood.
Tommy looked at Roy.
"You sure?"
Roy nodded.
"Yes."
"Want us inside?"
"No."
Tommy understood.
They would wait outside.
Witnesses.
Nothing more.
Roy drove into the parking lot.
Digger walked beside him.
The sheriff's office was small.
White walls.
Fluorescent lights.
A front desk.
Two deputies stood behind the counter.
One recognized Roy.
His face changed.
Then he whispered:
"That's him."
Brett Hoyt came out.
He saw Roy.
He smiled.
"Well, look who came back."
Roy said nothing.
Hoyt glanced outside.
"Your biker friends?"
Roy remained silent.
Hoyt laughed.
"You came to complain?"
Roy looked at him.
"Something like that."
Hoyt leaned closer.
"You really don't know when to quit, do you?"
Roy smiled faintly.
"No."
Hoyt looked at Digger.
"That the same mutt?"
Roy's eyes hardened for the first time.
"His name is Digger."
Hoyt laughed.
"Whatever."
Then the front doors opened.
Three black SUVs pulled into the parking lot.
Hoyt's smile disappeared.
Eight federal agents stepped out.
Dana Whitfield came last.
She wore a dark suit.
Her badge was visible.
She walked directly toward the building.
Hoyt looked at Roy.
Then at Dana.
Then back at Roy.
"What the hell?"
Roy said nothing.
Dana entered.
"Deputy Brett Hoyt?"
Hoyt swallowed.
"Yes."
Dana opened a folder.
"I'm Special Agent in Charge Dana Whitfield, Federal Bureau of Investigation."
Hoyt looked toward the sheriff's office.
His uncle stepped into the hallway.
Sheriff Dale Hoyt.
Six feet tall.
Heavyset.
Gray hair.
A career lawman.
He looked at Dana.
"What is this?"
Dana turned toward him.
"Are you Sheriff Dale Hoyt?"
"Yes."
"I have warrants."
"For whom?"
"Brett Hoyt."
Mercer walked out of another office.
Dana continued.
"Salvador Mercer."
Mercer's face went white.
"And you."
The sheriff stared.
"What?"
Dana handed him a document.
"Warrant for arrest."
The sheriff laughed.
"This is absurd."
Dana didn't react.
"Obstruction."
The sheriff's smile disappeared.
"Conspiracy."
Silence.
"Deprivation of civil rights under color of law."
The room became still.
"Financial corruption."
The sheriff looked at Roy.
"This is because of him?"
Roy said nothing.
Dana continued.
"We have two years of evidence."
She placed another folder on the counter.
"Buried complaints."
Another folder.
"Impound records."
Another.
"Auction records."
Another.
"Financial transfers."
Then she placed a laptop on the counter.
"Video evidence."
The sheriff stared at it.
"What video?"
Dana pressed play.
The sound of a sledgehammer filled the room.
CLANG.
The sheriff's face changed.
Roy watched him.
The video continued.
Hoyt's voice.
Mercer's laughter.
The destruction of the motorcycle.
Then Hoyt's voice:
"File your complaint, Grandpa. See how far it gets you."
The recording ended.
No one spoke.
The sheriff looked at Roy.
"Who are you?"
Roy reached into his vest.
He removed a laminated credential.
He placed it on the counter.
The sheriff picked it up.
His eyes moved across the card.
His face lost its color.
"No."
Roy said nothing.
The sheriff looked again.
"Roy Callaway?"
Roy nodded.
The sheriff's voice became a whisper.
"You're..."
Roy waited.
"You're the former director."
Roy nodded.
"Eleven years," Roy said.
The sheriff stared.
"You ran the Bureau."
"Yes."
"And you came here?"
Roy looked at Brett Hoyt.
"I came here because you forgot something."
"What?"
"That the badge isn't yours."
The sheriff's hands trembled.
Roy continued.
"You're supposed to serve the people who wear no badge."
He looked at Brett.
"You're supposed to protect them."
He looked at Mercer.
"You're supposed to help them."
Then at the sheriff.
"And you're supposed to stop people like them."
The sheriff tried to speak.
Roy raised one hand.
"No."
He looked at Dana.
"Do your job."
Dana nodded.
The agents moved.
Brett Hoyt was handcuffed first.
He didn't resist.
Mercer began crying.
"I didn't plan any of this."
Dana looked at him.
"Tell that to the jury."
Mercer shook his head.
"I was just following orders."
Roy looked at him.
"That's what everyone says after."
Mercer looked down.
Then came the sheriff.
He was handcuffed in front of his own deputies.
Some looked away.
Others stared.
No one helped him.
Outside, the Iron Saints watched silently.
The three men were led through the doors.
Tommy looked at Roy.
"Preacher."
Roy turned.
"Yeah?"
Tommy shook his head.
"You've been hiding this for forty years?"
Roy smiled.
"I didn't hide it."
"What did you do?"
Roy looked at the motorcycles.
"I left it at work."
Tommy laughed.
"You're telling me the whole time we've been riding together, you were..."
"Just Preacher."
Tommy shook his head.
"You're unbelievable."
Roy smiled.
"You never asked."
The Cost of a Badge
The investigation didn't end with the arrests.