Chapter 29
Sawyer
I’m finishing up paperwork when Chief Martinez calls me into his office for the second time this month. The tone in his voice tells me this isn’t good news. This is becoming a pattern I don't like.
“Close the door,” he says, not looking up from his desk.
I sit down and wait. The office smells like burnt coffee and old paperwork—familiar, but today it feels suffocating. There’s a new file on his desk, thicker than the last one.
“Got another complaint,” Chief says, sliding the folder across to me. “This one’s different.”
I open it and see official letterhead from a law firm in Creeksprings. The complaint is detailed, professionally written, and signed by Margaret Carlston on behalf of her son, Lance.
“They’re claiming harassment, abuse of power, and falsification of evidence,” Chief continues. “They want a full investigation.”
I read through the document, my jaw tightening with each accusation. My hands grip the folder's edges hard enough that they crease. According to this, I coerced Alice into filing false charges, used excessive force during the arrest, and have been intimidating witnesses.
“This is complete bullshit,” I say, setting the paper down.
“Doesn’t matter. They’ve got expensive lawyers making noise in all the right places. The county prosecutor is paying attention, and they’ve contacted state police about an independent review.”
My stomach drops. The room suddenly feels smaller. State police.
“They want to make sure everything was handled properly. Which means they’ll be interviewing you, and anyone else involved in the arrest.”
I think about Alice, how she looked yesterday when she decided not to sign her mother’s statement. How determined she was to see this through. Now she’s going to have to relive everything with state investigators.
“When?”
“Next week, probably. They’re requesting all evidence—the tracker, your body cam footage, witness statements, everything.”
“Good. Let them review it. Everything I did was by the book.”
“Was it?” Chief’s question catches me off guard.
I lean forward in my chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean you were personally involved with the victim. You discovered evidence during an off-duty encounter. And now you’re dating her.”
“I was on patrol when I found the tracker during a routine assist. Alice had a flat tire, I stopped to help, and discovered the device. Standard procedure.”
“Can you prove that?”
I stare at him. “You think I need to prove when I started dating someone?”
The fluorescent light buzzes overhead, too loud in the sudden silence.
“I think you need to be prepared for them to question every aspect of your relationship with Alice. When it started, how it developed, whether it influenced your judgment.” Chief opens another folder.
“They’re also alleging that you and Alice conspired to frame Lance.
That she planted the tracker herself and you discovered it to give her case more credibility. ”
“That’s insane.”
“Insane or not, they’re asking for forensic analysis of the device, chain of custody documentation, phone records showing your communication with Alice.”
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s from Alice.
Alice: How was your day?
Even this simple text might be scrutinized by investigators looking for evidence of conspiracy.
I set my phone face-down on my thigh. “Chief, what are you telling me?”
“I'm telling you this has escalated beyond a simple complaint. Lance's family has money and connections, and they're using both.”
“And the promotion?”
Chief’s expression says everything. “The review board meets next month. You can still take the exam, but they’re not going to promote someone under investigation by state police.”
Everything I've worked for, gone because I did my job. Years of overtime, studying, proving myself—all for nothing. Part of me wants to rage, to throw something. But mostly I just feel... tired.
“There’s something else,” Chief says. “Tracy Campbell has been calling local business owners, people on the town council. She’s telling anyone who’ll listen that you’re corrupt.”
“She’s what?”
My reputation. My life in this town. Everything I've built—Tracy's trying to burn it all down.
“Running a smear campaign. It’s working too. I’ve had three council members ask me about your ‘conduct’ this week.”
I think about Alice’s mother, her cold eyes and calculated approach. She’s not just trying to protect Lance anymore. She’s trying to destroy me completely.
“What do you recommend?”
“Keep your head down. Don't give them ammunition. And maybe consider whether your relationship with Alice is worth all this.”
There it is again. The suggestion to walk away.
For a moment, I think about my life before Alice. Quiet. Safe. Lonely. Empty. Then I think about the way she looked at me when she said she wouldn't sign that statement—like she finally believed she deserved to be fought for.
“It is,” I say.
Chief studies me for a long moment. “Then you better be sure, because this is just the beginning.”
As I leave his office, tension coiling in my shoulders, my phone buzzes again.
Alice: Want to grab dinner tonight? I’ll buy.
I look at the message, thinking about state investigators and expensive lawyers and Tracy Campbell’s campaign to ruin me.
She has no idea what's coming, and I have to tell her.
I think about Alice's smile when she decided not to sign that statement.
Her determination to see justice done, even when it was hard.
Me: I’d love to. But we need to talk about some things.
Alice: Everything okay?
Me: I’ll explain when I see you.
As I drive toward Alice's house, I make a decision. Chief's wrong.
This isn't the beginning of Tracy Campbell's war. This is her last desperate move. And she just made a critical mistake.
She underestimated how far I'm willing to go to protect someone.
Let them bring their lawyers and their investigators. Let Tracy call everyone in town. I did my job, and I did it right.
And I'm not backing down.