I suppressed a sigh before I spoke again. “Whitney, we can’t just ignore the fact that the stops in the last few months have increased and that the drivers were overwhelmingly men of color, mostly Black and Latinx. Just because people are not using hate speech doesn’t mean there’s not an issue.”

Day leaned in then and his face did not seem to be indicating that we were going to make any progress on getting him to at least admit that this was in any way related to race.

“I have things under control, the guys will be disciplined. They don’t need to be putting people in the community on edge because they can’t keep their shit together on a shift. But things are way too heated right now. Some local activists have been up in arms about this and I just don’t think me getting in there is going to do anything.” Him using the word “activist” brought me up short, because he wasn’t just talking about an anonymous person, he was talking about Patrice. This was not just some people trying to start trouble, it was people in our community who were fearful for their safety asking us to do our jobs. I was going to say exactly that when Ron spoke again.

“Activists are up in arms because people are scared, Whit. Actually stepping up and saying this is an issue could show the parents of black kids who can’t sleep at night since this shit started that this community cares about their kids.” Ron’s angry voice boomed in the room.

If possible, Day tightened his arms even more tightly against his chest, and he did not look like he was going to budge much from his position. “It’s not the right time.”

Ron scoffed, angling his head toward the sheriff. “What would be the right time for you, Whit? After one of these kids gets shot on their way home from school?”

Cindy looked like she finally realized that she’d made a bad call by coming to this and stood up. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Sheriff Day’s eyes widened as if just now realizing that Cindy was only a few weeks out of surgery. “If Lorraine knows you’re out here, she’s going to have all our heads.” Cindy’s partner had been a teacher in the Ithaca school district for twenty years and most of us knew her well and respected her. We also knew she was not anyone to mess with, especially when it came to Cindy.

Cindy glared at all of us as she walked to the door. When she had her hand on the doorknob, she turned around. To my surprise, she finally seemed to have lost her patience.