Voss’s face went gray.
“You can’t take my records.”
“We can, and we are,” Delgado said.
Miller stepped forward clutching a small blue spiral notebook, its corner bent. It was the kind sold at Dollar General for $1.25.
“There’s something else you need to know,” he said to Agent Greer. His voice was shaking. “I’ve seen Sheriff Voss order arrests with no legal reason before. More than once. I wrote down the dates.”
Voss spun toward him, his face burning red.
“Caleb, you shut your mouth. You understand me? You shut your mouth right now.”
The FBI agents moved between them so fast that I barely saw them do it. Agent Calloway put a hand on Voss’s chest.
“Sheriff, step back,” she said. “That’s a witness speaking to a federal agent. You don’t get to tell him to be quiet.”
Voss looked at her hand on his chest like nobody had ever touched him without permission before. Maybe nobody had.
