"Don't Forget Who I Am," He Choked the Black Waitress — Then the Man in the Corner Booth Stood Up
Chapter 3
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Sloan's grip on Tasha's throat came apart involuntarily. His body pitched forward, and Arthur used that momentum to redirect him: one hand on the collar, the other on his belt, depositing him face-first onto the Formica tabletop of Booth 7 with the kind of controlled, impersonal authority of a man shelving a heavy book. The sound echoed off the tile.Tasha dropped to her knees behind the counter, coughing, both hands pressed to her neck.Curtis Webb had his hand on his holster. "Get your hands where I can see them now! You just assaulted a law enforcement deputy!"Arthur had one palm pressed flat against the back of Sloan's neck, keeping him pinned without visible effort. He did not look at Curtis; his voice was completely level:"If you clear that holster, I will ensure that you spend the better part of the next decade explaining to a federal grand jury why you drew a weapon on a federal officer in a restaurant in front of 11 witnesses and a security camera. Take your hand off your hip."The deputy's fingers went still. There was something in the quality of that silence that was different from the silence Sloan had created: Sloan's silence came from fear; this one came from something else entirely."Who are you?" Curtis Webb asked."Someone who has been doing his homework." Arthur glanced up at the manager, a heavyset man named Gerald who had materialized in the kitchen doorway, looking like a man who deeply wished he had called in sick. "Sir, please call 911. Tell them to send a supervisor and paramedics. The young woman needs to be evaluated."Gerald already had his phone out.Beneath Arthur's hand, Sloan was still fighting, spitting profanity into the table surface. "You're a dead man, I promise you that! You're in Fulton County! I own this county! Curtis, shoot this son of a—""You're intoxicated, Sergeant Sloan," Arthur said, not unkindly. "You are off-duty, out of jurisdiction, and you just committed felony aggravated assault and attempted strangulation on a civilian under Georgia Code 16-5-23, which, as I believe you know, carries a mandatory minimum. The state will upgrade it given your position. The federal component is a separate matter."Sloan went very still."The federal component?" Curtis Webb repeated.Arthur didn't answer.Tasha was sitting against the cabinets beneath the counter, her knees pulled to her chest, her hand pressed against her throat where the bruises were already beginning to surface. She looked at the man in the blazer. He glanced down at her for one moment, and something in his expression shifted: not softness, exactly, but recognition—the particular gravity of someone who understood what this moment cost her."You're going to be all right," he said. "Stay down until the EMTs arrive."The sirens were already audible, cutting through the October rain outside.Three Fulton County deputies came through the door first. The lead officer was a sharp-featured woman, Sergeant Diana Moss, who read the room in about four seconds and did not immediately reach for her belt: she saw Sloan, a face she knew, pinned to a table by a man in a blazer; she saw Tasha on the floor with bruises forming on her neck; she saw 11 people in various stages of frozen horror."Let me see everyone's hands," Moss said."You know Sloan?" Arthur asked, not releasing his grip."I work with him.""Then you'll want to make a careful decision about what you do in the next 30 seconds."Curtis Webb jumped in, his voice high and tight: "Sergeant Moss, this man attacked a law enforcement officer! He came out of nowhere! He—"