And then Julian walked in behind me — Julian, who was, among the legitimate things he had become, exactly the kind of official who could do this properly — accompanied by two actual federal agents, and set a thick folder on the detective’s desk.

“Detective Miller,” Julian said, and his voice was quiet and entirely without theater.

“The Bureau is assuming jurisdiction over this case as of this morning.

These are the federal warrants for Chad Kensington, Brantley Holloway, and Wyatt Holbrook — felony assault, kidnapping, and obstruction of justice.

And I’d encourage you to speak with your union representative and possibly an attorney, because the destruction of evidence and the pressure applied to this investigation are now themselves under federal review, and the record of who did and did not do their job is going to matter a great deal to you personally in the coming weeks.”

The color left the detective’s face as he understood that the thing he had helped bury had not stayed buried — that it had, in fact, grown, overnight, into something with federal seals on it that was now looking directly at him.