Federal agents arrested Travis Cain shortly after seven that morning at the gym he visited every weekday. His predictable routine made him easy to find and the arrest quiet.

He didn’t resist. He stood in workout clothes while an agent read him his rights, and people who saw him said his face had never looked so empty.

Wade Cain proved more difficult. He kept several attorneys on retainer, and for three frantic hours they tried to negotiate a private, delayed surrender so he wouldn’t be removed from his office in front of his employees.

Federal prosecutors had no interest in preserving his dignity. By ten o’clock, Wade Cain — the man who had developed half the town while quietly destroying the other half — was escorted from his real-estate office in restraints.

A small crowd had gathered outside. For two decades, many of them had watched his black Escalade pass through town while he looked straight through them.

That morning, he had nowhere else to look.