Mercer's face tightened. Hollis said he needed backup for surveillance. When I got there, the barn was already burning. He laughed about it, said the owner would have to sell now. Back in the executive suite, cyber teams worked to reconstruct deleted files.
Screens filled with spreadsheets tracking payments to county officials. Each condemned property shows a corresponding wire transfer, a tech reported. Kerns and Pike got percentage cuts based on property value and mineral surveys. Maxwell sat slumped in a chair watching as agents boxed up decades of corrupt dealings. His empire of stolen land and buried minerals crumbled with each sealed evidence container.
Sir, an agent burst in. We found their geological survey maps. Every targeted farm sits on rare earth mineral deposits. They were using the sheriff's department to force sales at fraction of true value. Ruiz nodded grimly.
Document everything. I want a complete paper trail for the prosecutors. News vans gathered outside the building as word spread. Reporters filmed federal agents carrying out box after box of evidence. Local stations interrupted regular programming for breaking updates.
In the federal courthouse across town, judges reviewed the mounting evidence. One by one, they signed arrest warrants for Brent Hollis and Harold Pike. The charges filled multiple pages. Conspiracy, fraud, civil rights violations, obstruction of justice. Alerts lit up phones across the state.
Headlines screamed about corruption exposed and justice in motion. Social media exploded with clips of Hollis being led out in cuffs. His face bruised from the fight. By afternoon, the Magnolia Crest offices stood empty except for federal evidence teams. They worked methodically, documenting every file, every computer, every scrap of paper that might reveal more threads in the web of corruption.
Their investigation was far from over, but the first dominoes had finally fallen. Red and blue lights painted the perfectly trimmed hedges of Sheriff Dalton Kerns' three-story mansion. Federal vehicles lined the curved driveway, their armor gleaming in the first rays of dawn. Special Agent Dana Ruiz stood at the front of the formation. Her dark suit a stark contrast against the white marble steps.
Sheriff Dalton Kerns, her voice carried through the bullhorn. This is the FBI. We have federal warrants for your arrest. Exit the premises immediately. The mansion's heavy oak door flew open.
Kerns stormed out in his bathrobe and slippers, face twisted in rage. What the hell is this? You have no authority here. This is my jurisdiction. Not anymore.
Ruiz lowered the bullhorn and held up a thick stack of documents. Multiple sealed federal indictments for civil rights violations, conspiracy to commit fraud, and covering up arsons targeting minority-owned properties. This is ridiculous. Kerns' face reddened as he backed toward his door. I'm the law in this county.