He had done the arithmetic that men in his position eventually do, when a local kingdom meets a federal government.

He had decided, that afternoon, to cooperate.

And the moment I saw him step off that elevator without his badge, I knew the sheriff’s twenty-two-year reign was already over — because the first deputy had broken, and once the first one breaks, the rest is only paperwork.

Chapter 13 — Seven Eighteen

Sheriff Roy Prescott’s supreme confidence lasted until exactly eighteen minutes past seven the next morning.

That was when a fleet of federal vehicles surrounded both the county administration building and the sheriff’s headquarters.