Two.

Three times.

Then it stopped.

A second later, Miller’s voice came over the office intercom, sounding tense.

“Sheriff,” Miller said.

“We have a problem.”

“There’s a truck parked blocking the sally port gate.”

“And there are people outside.”

I looked at the window.

The reflection of the room was still there, but behind it, a faint, amber light was flashing.

The light of a hazard signal.

My phone in my pocket vibrated.

It was a long, continuous buzz.

A text message.

Or a call.

Marcus looked at Vance, his eyes suddenly sharp with anger.

“What is this?” Marcus demanded.

Vance stood up, his hand going to his service weapon.

“Miller,” Vance barked into the intercom. “Who is out there?”

The intercom crackled with static.

“Sheriff,” Miller’s voice said, sounding small and afraid.

“It’s the breakfast crowd.”