Chapter 31
Sawyer
The conference room at the county courthouse feels smaller than it should with three state investigators sitting across from me.
Gray walls, fluorescent lights, a table scarred with years of use.
The air conditioning hums too loud. My uniform feels tight.
Detective Morrison, a woman in her fifties with steel-gray hair, leads the questioning while the other two take notes.
A recorder sits between us, its red light steady.
“Officer Edwards, let’s start with your first interaction with Miss Alice Campbell,” Morrison says, consulting her file. “Walk me through that day at the bank.”
I keep my voice steady, professional. “I was getting coffee when a customer became verbally abusive toward Ms. Campbell. He called her stupid and was being disruptive. My partner and I intervened to de-escalate the situation.”
“Was this intervention requested?”
“No ma’am. But the customer was causing a disturbance in a place of business.”
Detective Morrison makes a note. “And this was your first time meeting Ms. Campbell?”
“Yes.”
“But not your last.”
“No. I became a regular customer at the bank.”
“For coffee?”
“Yes.”
She looks up from her notes. “Officer Edwards, how many banks are there in Pine Hollows?”
“Just one.”
“And how many coffee shops?”
I can see where this is going. “One. My mother owns it.”
“Yet you chose to get your coffee at the bank. Where Ms. Campbell works.”
“The bank has free coffee. It’s convenient.”
“Is that the only reason?”
I meet her eyes. “At first, yes. Then I started going more frequently for other reasons.”
“Alice?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Detective Morrison exchanges a glance with her colleagues. “Let’s talk about the GPS tracker. You discovered this device during what you’ve described as an off-duty encounter?”
“I was on my lunch break. Alice had a flat tire and texted me for help.”
“She has your personal number?”
“We’d exchanged numbers prior.”
“For what purpose?”
“I’d told her about a library event. She asked for details.”
The detective makes another note. “So you’d moved from professional interactions to personal ones.”
“Yes.”
“And during this tire change, you conveniently discovered evidence that supported Ms. Campbell’s claims about being stalked.”
The skepticism in her voice makes my jaw tighten. I keep my hands flat on the table. “I discovered a GPS tracking device that was illegally attached to her vehicle. She didn’t know it was there until I found it.”
Morrison's expression doesn't change, but I see the shift—she's not just skeptical.
She's trying to rattle me.
“How did you know what it was?”
“I recognized it. They’re sold online, easy to obtain. Most people wouldn’t know what it is unless they’re actively looking for it.”
“Have you seen them before?”
“In training materials and online.”
“But you immediately knew it was a tracking device?”
“Yes.”
Detective Morrison leans forward. “Officer Edwards, don’t you find it convenient that you, Ms. Campbell’s romantic interest, happened to be the one to discover the key piece of evidence in her case?”
“No ma’am. I find it alarming that someone was tracking her movements without her knowledge or consent for an unknown period of time.”
“According to the complaint filed by Lance Carlston’s family, Ms. Campbell planted that device herself to frame their son.”
My fingers curl into fists under the table. “That’s absurd.”
“Is it? You’ve admitted you’re attracted to Ms. Campbell. You made repeated visits to her workplace. You exchanged personal contact information. Isn’t it possible that your feelings for her influenced your judgment?”
I keep my voice level. “My feelings for Ms. Campbell had nothing to do with the evidence I found or the arrest I made. I was doing my job.”
“Let’s talk about that arrest. You’ve stated that you arrived at Ms. Campbell’s home on your lunch break.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to check on her after finding the tracker that morning.”
“And you found Mr. Carlston assaulting her?”
“Yes. He had her by the wrist and shoved her hard enough to knock her into a bookshelf.”
“Did you call for backup?”
“No. The situation required immediate intervention.”
“So you made the decision to arrest Mr. Carlston without witnesses.”
“I witnessed the assault myself.”
Detective Morrison flips through several pages. The rustle of paper is too loud in the quiet room. “Mr. Carlston's family claims you used excessive force during the arrest.”
“I used appropriate force to subdue a suspect who was resisting arrest.”
“Ms. Campbell witnessed the entire arrest.”
“Who you were romantically involved with.”
“She was the victim of the assault I witnessed myself.”
And who will have to sit through this same interrogation. Who'll have to relive it all again.
They keep circling back to my feelings for Alice like that somehow invalidates what I saw with my own eyes. Like it changes how Lance treated Alice that day. Like it changes the fact that Lance assaulted her. And who knows if it was even the first time.
It takes everything I have not to slam my hand on the table. To tell them they're more interested in my dating life than actual justice.
The detective sets down her pen and looks at me directly.
The room goes quiet except for the buzz of the fluorescent lights.
“Officer Edwards, I’m going to ask you a direct question, and I want a direct answer.
Did your personal feelings for Alice Campbell influence any aspect of your professional conduct regarding Lance Carlston? ”
I meet her stare without flinching. “No.”
“You’re certain?”
“Absolutely. My feelings for Alice made me care about her safety. But Lance Carlston's actions—the stalking, the break-in, the assault—those were real. I would have made the same arrest if she'd been a complete stranger.”
“Even though those feelings led to a romantic relationship?”
“My relationship with Alice began after Lance’s arrest. And it has no bearing on the validity of the evidence or the legitimacy of the charges.”
Detective Morrison makes a final note and closes her file. “We’ll be reviewing your body camera footage, the physical evidence, and conducting our own interviews. Is there anything else you’d like to add to your statement?”
“Lance Carlston stalked Alice Campbell for months. He placed an illegal tracking device on her vehicle. He broke into her home and physically assaulted her. I arrested him because he committed multiple crimes in my presence. The evidence will confirm everything I’ve stated here today.”
Morrison's expression doesn't change, but one of the other investigators shifts in his seat.
“Thank you, Officer Edwards. We’ll be in touch.”
As I leave the courthouse, I realize my hands are steadier than I expected. The afternoon sun hits me like a wall of heat.
Let them investigate. Let them review every piece of evidence, every statement, every second of body cam footage.
I don't have anything to hide. But something about Morrison's questions—the way she kept circling back to Alice, the skepticism in every word—tells me this isn't over.
Not by a long shot.