"The physical intake manifest," I gasped, leaning heavily against the hood. "From the county lot. It proves the cars never left the chain of custody. They never came to my shop."
Miller stared down at the massive book. He looked at me, dripping river water and bleeding onto his boots, and then looked back toward the flashing lights on the bridge.
"You went into the fire for this?" Miller asked quietly, resting his hand flat on the damp leather cover.
"Hollister is burning the rest of the lot right now," I said, struggling to catch a full breath. "I had to get the master copy."
Before Miller could open the ledger, the violent roar of a massive V8 engine shattered the quiet of the highway.
From the county side of the bridge, a single, heavily armored sheriff’s cruiser broke away from the barricade. It accelerated aggressively across the span, its light bar flashing violently. It didn't slow down as it approached the state vehicles. It slammed its brakes at the absolute last second, its thick steel push-bumper stopping exactly two feet away from the white state jurisdiction marker painted on the asphalt.
Sheriff Hollister threw open his door and stepped out into the floodlights.
He looked massive in his tactical uniform, his face flushed with a terrifying mix of adrenaline and rage. Riker climbed out of the passenger side, his hand resting casually on his heavy duty belt.
"Miller!" Hollister bellowed, his voice carrying easily over the idling engines. "Step away from that man. You are harboring a violent, armed county fugitive."
Miller didn't flinch. He handed the wet ledger to the trooper standing behind him and took two slow, deliberate steps forward, stopping squarely on the painted boundary line.
"Evening, Sheriff," Miller said, his tone dangerously calm and professional. "I was wondering when you'd show up to personally enforce your illegal injunction."
Hollister marched right up to the painted line, his polished boots stopping inches from Miller's stance. He pointed a thick, accusatory finger directly at my face. I was still leaning against the SUV, shivering uncontrollably, my hands gripping the warm grille to stay upright.
"That man is wanted for grand larceny, embezzlement of county funds, and the attempted murder of a sworn deputy," Hollister declared loudly, making sure every state trooper heard his official narrative. "He attacked Deputy Evans, stole evidence from his own shop, broke into the county impound lot, and threw a lethal weapon at Chief Deputy Riker. I want him in cuffs, and I want him in the back of my cruiser. Now."
Hollister was building his legal defense in real-time. He was layering so many violent, dramatic felonies onto my name that he thought the state would have no choice but to hand me over to avoid a massive jurisdictional shootout.
"Attempted murder?" Miller asked, tilting his head slightly.
"He threw a pair of heavy steel bolt cutters through my passenger window," Riker chimed in, stepping up beside Hollister. "Shattered the safety glass. Missed my head by an inch. We had to discharge a service weapon just to stop his violent advance."
"Is that right, Walter?" Miller called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off the towering sheriff.
"I cut the lock on the intake box," I replied, my voice steadying despite the freezing cold. "Riker drew his gun first. I threw the cutters at his empty window to buy myself two seconds to run."
"He's a desperate felon lying to save his own miserable skin!" Hollister snapped, his patience fraying into genuine panic. "You have no authority here, Miller. A county judge signed the emergency injunction stopping your state audit, and he signed the arrest warrant for Walter. You are standing in the way of a local criminal investigation. Hand him over immediately, or I will arrest you for felony obstruction."
Hollister took a half-step forward, his heavy boot hovering aggressively over the white painted line.
The four state troopers standing behind Miller instantly unholstered their weapons, holding them firmly at the low ready. The sharp metal clicks of the safeties disengaging echoed loudly in the cold night air.
Hollister froze. He looked at the drawn guns, then looked back at the investigator's unflinching face.