"You boys remember what happens if you threaten an officer."
Jack laughed once.
Not loudly.
"I haven't threatened you."
Richard looked at Chloe.
"Get in the SUV."
Chloe did not move.
"Now."
She stayed behind Jack.
Richard's face reddened.
"I said now!"
"No."
The single word surprised Chloe as much as Richard.
He stared.
"What?"
Chloe stepped fully into the light.
"No."
Richard's jaw tightened.
"You get in that vehicle or I swear to God."
"You'll what?"
Richard reached for his gun.
Ninety-seven men shifted.
Not forward.
Not backward.
Just enough.
Richard saw it.
His hand stopped.
Jack spoke softly.
"Careful."
Richard looked around.
For the first time, genuine panic replaced anger.
"I didn't kill anybody."
Nobody had accused him directly yet.
Jack smiled without humor.
"Interesting choice of words."
Richard realized his mistake.
He turned.
Started toward the SUV.
The Sergeant at Arms shouted.
"Stop."
Richard did.
Jack walked toward the motorcycle.
He pointed at the bullet.
"Tell me who shot Preacher."
Richard shook his head.
"Nobody."
"Then we call federal investigators."
Richard looked sharply toward him.
"Why federal?"
"Because hiding evidence tied to organized criminal activity gets complicated."
Richard's face changed.
Jack saw it.
"So there was criminal activity."
"No."
"Cartel?"
Richard said nothing.
"Smuggling?"
Nothing.
"Kickbacks?"
Richard looked away.
Jack stepped closer.
"What did Preacher find?"
Richard's shoulders sagged.
Chloe watched.
A strange thought came to her.
Richard looked old.
Not powerful.
Not terrifying.
Just old.
A frightened man inside a uniform.
"The sheriff knew."
The words were barely audible.
Jack stopped.
"What?"
Richard swallowed.
"The sheriff knew."
The Sergeant at Arms cursed.
Richard began speaking faster.
"He found out."
"Preacher?"
Richard nodded.
"About what?"
"Loads."
"What loads?"
"Drugs. Cash. Sometimes guns."
Jack's face hardened.
"Through Barstow?"
Richard nodded.
"County roads. Deputies looked away. We got paid."
Chloe felt sick.
"Preacher saw something?"
"He saw a handoff."
Richard pressed both hands against his head.
"He followed one of the trucks."
Jack's voice became quiet.
"And?"
"The sheriff said we couldn't let him leave."
Silence.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
Richard's eyes moved toward the exposed bullet.
"They made me do it."
Jack's hands curled into fists.
"Who?"
"The sheriff."
"Name."
Richard hesitated.
Jack shouted.
"NAME."
"Calvin Dorsey!"
Several riders reacted.
Richard continued desperately.
"He said Preacher would bring everybody down."
Jack looked toward the Shovelhead.
"How?"
Richard's face crumpled.
"We followed him."
"How many?"
"Three."
"Who pulled the trigger?"
Richard closed his eyes.