He stopped himself.Just because he was eager to go see Jessie didn’t mean he could shirk his duties as sheriff.
He grabbed the phone from the far side of the desk, anticipating a brief call. “Sheriff Winters.”
“Sheriff Winters, this is FBI Detective Donald Harris with Washington State Internal Affairs.”
Internal affairs?Robert’s stomach dropped.
The last time he’d worked with the FBI was over two-and-a-half years ago when Ben’s daughter Cassey was kidnapped.
“What can I do for you, detective?”
“I’m holding a Federal 1983 complaint...” he rattled off more official numbers and letters Robert didn’t recognize, but it didn’t matter. He knew what a Federal 1983 complaint was.
The blood drained from his face as he circled his desk and dropped into his chair.
“...Alleging police brutality by Sheriff Robert Winters against Patrick Pendleton.” The voice on the other end of the phone droned on, citing date, time, and place, but Robert tuned it out. He knew exactly where and when the incident had taken place, and he knew he hadn’t taken things too far, as much as he would have liked to.
Robert’s grip on the phone tightened. He couldn’t believe Pendleton had stooped to this.
“I’m aware of the details, detective. What are the allegations?”
“Excessive force.”
Robert bit back a swear word along with the urge to yell,‘He came at me with an ax! What was I supposed to do? Lie down and let him kill me?’
He leaned back in his chair, laid his head back, and closed his eyes. He let out a sigh. “What do you need from me?”
Robert listened carefully as the detective requested the full report of Pendleton’s arrest, testimony from assisting officers, and any other information Robert felt would be helpful in making the investigation go smoothly and quickly.
By the time the call ended, Robert was ready to punch something. It was a good thing the county jail wasn’t attached to the Sheriff’s Office or Pendleton would definitely have grounds for a suit.
Robert went in search of Dale. Hopefully, the deputy was still here.
Thankfully, Dale was alone in the office shared by the deputies. He plucked at his keyboard, no doubt filing his daily report before ending his shift for the day.
“Dale, will you come to my office when you get a minute?”
“Sure thing, boss. Be right there.”
Dale stepped into Robert’s office less than a minute later.
“Close the door, please.” Robert didn’t mean to sound so gruff, but the implications of the charges he faced and how that might affect his chances for re-election settled on him full force.
Dale closed the door and settled into a chair, a frown on his face. “What’s up?”
Robert told Dale about his phone call from IA and the allegations of police brutality.
“That’s a bunch of bull.” Dale pitched forward in his seat. “You sported more bruises from your skirmish with Pendleton than he did.”
Robert rubbed the temple that sported a greenish bruise. He still suffered a headache each day because of it. “I agree, but IA needs to conduct their investigation before any of this can go away.”
He explained what Detective Harris had requested and asked Dale to make sure his testimony was detailed and concise. “And thank you, for insisting on taking a picture of my injury that night.”
Robert had been so exhausted by the time he’d dropped Jessie off at the ranch, all he wanted to do was go home, take some ibuprofen, and ice his throbbing head. But he had to stop by the office to file his report on the incident, and Dale had been adamant about getting pictures of Robert’s head. He’d also insisted Robert go to the ER, but Robert had ignored those orders.
Robert scratched his jaw. “Do you think they’ll want to question the other deputies, too? You know, to get a feel for my character?”
Dale shrugged. “Maybe, but you’ve got nothing to worry about. I doubt anyone here has one negative thing to say about you.”
