Sheriff Cleary slowly lowered his sunglasses.
He looked at Isaiah.
Then toward the broken card on the driver’s seat.
“You’re telling me you know this man personally?”
Evelyn answered immediately.
“Yes.”
Cleary frowned.
“How long?”
“Since his Army service. My brother served with him.”
Isaiah recognized her voice.
“Evelyn?”
A brief silence followed.
Then the dispatcher answered.
“Isaiah?”
He smiled faintly.
“Hello, Evelyn.”
Her voice softened.
“Oh, thank goodness.”
Cleary looked between the radio and Isaiah.
The conversation was unmistakable.
These two people knew each other.
Evelyn continued.
“Isaiah, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
A pause.
“Though the sheriff has destroyed my retirement ID.”
Evelyn became silent.
Then she asked:
“Arthur, did you damage his identification?”
Cleary hesitated.
“I believed it was fraudulent.”
“Did you verify that?”
The sheriff looked away.
“I was investigating.”
Evelyn took a breath.
“The veterans center has his arrival information. And I know him personally. Please preserve the encounter and request proper verification rather than making assumptions.”
Cleary’s jaw tightened.
He was accustomed to giving orders.
Not receiving questions from his own dispatcher.
But the situation had changed.
He looked toward Isaiah.
Then toward the card fragments.
For the first time, he appeared uncertain.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew people here?”
Isaiah looked at him.
“You never asked.”
Cleary remained silent.
Isaiah continued.
“And even if I didn’t know anybody here, that wouldn’t justify destroying my identification.”
The sheriff lowered his eyes.
