Mercer looked at her.
"You also told dispatch there was no further enforcement action," Maya continued. "Which one are you documenting?"
Mercer stepped closer. "You need to stop talking."
Maya did.
The tow driver finished tightening the straps and walked back toward the cab. "County storage?" he asked again.
Mercer shook his head. "Not the main lot."
The driver paused. "Where then?"
Mercer gave him an address. The driver's expression changed slightly, but he did not question it.
Noah heard the location. "That is not a county impound facility."
Mercer looked at him. "It is an authorized holding location."
"No. It is a private tow yard."
Mercer opened the rear door of the patrol cruiser. "Get in, Maya."
She did not move immediately. "Am I under arrest?"
Mercer stared at her. "Get in."
"That did not answer the question."
Mercer leaned closer. "You can sit in the car voluntarily, or I can document that you refused a lawful instruction."
Maya looked at Noah. He did not say anything. She stepped into the back seat without resisting. Mercer closed the door.
Noah stood beside the cruiser for a moment. "Wade, if we are not booking her, we should not be transporting her in cuffs."
Mercer walked around to the driver's side. "You want to stay here?"
"No."
"Then get in."
Noah took one last look at the tow truck before entering the passenger seat.
The two vehicles left the roadside stop together. Maya sat quietly in the rear seat and watched through the window. They passed the main road that led toward the Ashford County Sheriff's Office.
Noah noticed, too. "You missed the turn."
Mercer kept driving. "I know."
"Where are we going?"
Mercer did not answer.
They continued along a county road lined with small businesses, repair shops, and older warehouses. After several miles, Mercer turned into an industrial area near an abandoned rail spur. Maya looked through the window and noted the street signs: first a tire shop, then a fenced storage lot, then an old water tower with faded county markings. At the next intersection, Mercer turned again.
Noah looked at him. "You taking us to Hensley Towing?"
Mercer kept his eyes on the road.
"You know that place is not supposed to hold active evidence."
"It handles overflow."
"No. It handles private storage."