He placed the report on Brody's desk.
"This cannot be treated as a misunderstanding."
His voice dropped.
"And this is not about Leo being the governor's son."
Robert looked at everyone in the room.
"If he were someone else's son, he might still be sitting in that cell."
No one answered.
"He might wake up tomorrow facing charges he did not deserve. He might feel pressured to accept a plea simply to escape the system. A false arrest could follow him into school, employment, housing, and the rest of his life."
Robert's eyes returned to Miller.
"That is why this matters."
He turned toward Brody.
"Chief, I expect both officers to be removed from active duty immediately pending investigation."
Brody nodded.
"Yes, Governor."
"I want their badges and duty equipment secured according to department policy."
Another nod.
"I want a complete internal investigation, and because this involves my family, I do not want the appearance that I am controlling the outcome."
Robert continued.
"The Attorney General's office should oversee an independent review."
"Understood."
Robert looked back toward Miller.
"If that investigation finds that you knowingly falsified an official report, the consequences should be exactly what they would be for any other officer."
He paused.
"No favors."
Miller lowered his eyes.
Robert placed an arm around Leo's shoulders.
"Come on, son. Let's go home."
As they walked out of the office, Leo glanced back.
Chief Brody was collecting the officers' badges.
Two men who had seemed untouchable only hours earlier now looked diminished.
Leo felt something close to pity for a fraction of a second.
Then relief overwhelmed it.
His father's intervention had freed him.
But what happened next would determine whether anything actually changed.
The day after Leo's release, the Northwood Police Department became a fortress under scrutiny.
Not from outsiders alone.
From within.
Governor Nash kept his word.
By nine in the morning, two senior investigators from the Attorney General's office arrived.
They were led by Detective Anne Holloway, a sharp, direct investigator known for refusing to soften uncomfortable facts.
Her team took over Chief Brody's conference room.
Boxes appeared.
Laptops opened.
Evidence logs began.
Their mandate was simple.
Find the truth wherever it led.
Holloway began with the most objective evidence available.
The dash-camera recording from Miller and Carter's patrol vehicle.
The video was clear.
As the cruiser came up behind Leo's sedan, both taillights were visibly illuminated.
Steady red.
Fully functioning.
Then came the audio.
Miller's voice, recorded before the emergency lights activated.
"Look at this guy. Doesn't belong here. Let's see what he's up to."
Holloway replayed it twice.
That single sentence changed everything.
The stop had not begun with a broken taillight.
The taillight explanation came afterward.
The original motivation had been suspicion without a documented traffic violation.
Holloway interviewed Miller and Carter separately.
Miller arrived with a police union representative.
The representative immediately tried to frame the matter as a difficult split-second policing decision.
Holloway remained unmoved.
She placed a transcript of the dash-camera audio on the table.
"Officer Miller, your report states that the reason for the stop was a nonfunctioning taillight."
She tapped the transcript.
"This audio, recorded before you activated your emergency lights, suggests you had already decided the driver did not belong in the neighborhood."
Miller stared at the page.
His union representative began speaking about context and officer safety.
Holloway interrupted calmly.
"This is not simply about a discretionary judgment. We are investigating whether an official report contains statements the evidence shows were false."
She leaned back.
"You should understand the seriousness of that."
Miller tried to defend himself.
He said Leo had seemed evasive.
Then aggressive.
Then suspicious.
But each new version created contradictions.
The recording showed Leo's hands visible.
His movements deliberate.
His answers respectful.
The palette knife was visible among art supplies.
There was no evidence connecting him to any burglary.
By the end of the interview, Miller looked exhausted.
Carter's interview was different.
He came alone.
He looked as though he had not slept.
Holloway placed the same evidence in front of him.
Carter did not fight it.
He broke.
"He does this," Carter said.
His voice shook.
"Cade. He calls it proactive policing. He sees somebody he thinks is out of place, and then he looks for something. A traffic issue. A rolling stop. Anything."
Holloway listened without interrupting.
"He trusts his gut," Carter continued. "Then he makes everything fit."
For the next two hours, Carter described more than Leo's arrest.
He talked about other stops.
Other people Miller had treated as suspicious because they were in neighborhoods Miller thought did not match them.
He described minor situations that had escalated unnecessarily.
He admitted that as a junior officer, he had been afraid to challenge his training officer.
Then Holloway asked him about the palette knife.
Carter stared at the table.
"I knew what it was."
"Did you believe it was being carried as a weapon?"
"No."
"Did you say that at the scene?"
"No."
"Why?"
Carter closed his eyes.
"Because I was afraid of him."
Holloway said nothing.
Carter continued.
"I knew it was wrong. When Leo looked at me, I knew. But I didn't do anything."
He swallowed.
"I'm just as responsible for staying quiet."
While the interviews continued, the story leaked.
By noon, local news outlets were reporting it.
GOVERNOR'S SON WRONGFULLY ARRESTED, OFFICERS SUSPENDED.
News vans gathered outside the precinct.
Satellite equipment rose above the parking lot.
Reporters called city hall.
The governor's office.
The Attorney General.
The police union.
The scandal grew faster than Northwood could contain it.
Chief Brody held a press conference.
He looked exhausted.
He announced the independent investigation.
Promised full cooperation.