By Carli Brosseau and Sarah Nagem

Sgt. Maurice Devalle was listed as on duty in the North Carolina State Highway Patrol’s dispatch system when a captain knocked on his front door one evening in late 2016. Devalle came to the door in a T-shirt and shorts, rather than the patrol’s black and silver uniform. Was Devalle on duty or not, the captain wondered.

Devalle hadn’t reported to his assigned duty station in Goldsboro that day, nor had he secured permission to work from his home in Wake County. Devalle told the captain he was sick, but he hadn’t let anyone else in the Highway Patrol know that. Meanwhile, WRAL reporters, tipped off that Devalle had a habit of not reporting to work, had been dropping by for weeks to note when his patrol vehicle was parked outside.

The reporting prompted the Highway Patrol to launch an internal investigation that uncovered a pattern, which Devalle later acknowledged, of logging onto the Highway Patrol’s dispatch system as on duty without ever leaving the house. On other occasions, he went home early.

Investigators checked his claim that he had been performing administrative duties during eight work days in late September and early October 2016 and found that Devalle had sent only two emails during that time. One was work-related, the other was about fantasy football. They also found he had submitted paperwork falsely claiming that he lived within the required distance from his duty station, as well as reports claiming that he had driven hundreds more miles than his fuel logs corroborated.

In April 2017, the Highway Patrol fired Devalle. He appealed, claiming he was unfairly targeted for discipline, and quickly found work as a school resource officer at East Columbus Junior-Senior High School (Columbus County Sheriff Lewis Hatcher, also a Highway Patrol veteran, hired him).

Devalle would have to prove to the board overseeing standards for North Carolina’s deputy sheriffs that he had “good moral character,” a minimum requirement to be employed in many licensed professions in North Carolina. His battle to secure that stamp of approval has now dragged on for more than seven years and was heard before the state Supreme Court last month.

How the justices decide the case could prompt an overhaul in how licensing boards guard the integrity of their professions, from doctors to real estate agents, lawyers, and certified public accountants. Roughly one third of jobs in North Carolina require some kind of occupational license, and many require “good moral character.”

Michael McGuinness, the attorney representing Devalle, hopes that the justices will use this case to give “good moral character” a stricter definition. He contends that the concept is unfairly vague and suggests that the sheriffs’ commission has continued to use the term because it gives them “unbridled discretion to decertify deputies at whim.”

Other attorneys who represent licensed workers have made similar appeals. “Although the facts of the present case are of particular concern to citizens who have devoted or plan to devote their adult lives to serving the public in law enforcement careers, ultimately this Court’s decision will have far-reaching effects in dozens of fields and professions,” Jennifer Spyker and Hardy Lewis wrote in an amicus brief on behalf of North Carolina Advocates for Justice and the State Employees Association of North Carolina.

“We’re getting these arbitrary rulings,” Lewis said in an interview. “We need clearer standards.”

Joy Strickland, the attorney from the state Department of Justice representing the sheriffs’ commission, disputed that the commission’s decision had been arbitrary and argued that past court decisions have made the definition plenty clear to apply to Devalle’s case.

“The United States Supreme Court has recognized the term ‘good moral character,’ by itself, can be ambiguous, but, at a minimum, requires ‘honesty, fairness, and respect for the rights of others and for the laws of the state and nations,’” she wrote in a brief to the court. Devalle’s record, in contrast, “demonstrates numerous distinct acts of misconduct, illustrating a pattern of untruthfulness, deceit, and fraudulent behavior over time.”

A central bone of contention in the case is how Devalle’s behavior after leaving the Highway Patrol should be factored into a licensing decision. McGuinness argues that Devalle showed that by the time the commission made a final decision more than three years later, he had been rehabilitated.

During oral arguments, the justices appeared keen to weigh the measure of a person’s morality. Perhaps most pertinently: Is a practical definition of good moral character even within the reach of the law?

Same facts, different conclusions

Devalle in 2017 appealed his firing to Erik Hooks, then secretary of the Department of Public Safety, which oversaw the Highway Patrol at the time. Hooks, a former State Bureau of Investigations agent with a long history overseeing corruption cases, dropped the charges against Devalle for insubordination and violation of the Highway Patrol’s residency policy, but came down hard on him when it came to untruthfulness.

“Your above-described pattern of deliberately misrepresenting information concerning your work activities has embarrassed the Highway Patrol and discredited you personally,” Hooks wrote in his August 2017 letter to Devalle. “Your demonstrated pattern of behavior demonstrates a willingness on your part to be deliberately untruthful, calls into question your credibility as a member of the Highway Patrol and severely impairs your ability to testify in court as a sworn law enforcement officer.”

After receiving the letter, Devalle appealed his dismissal one more time. Part of his defense was that he was far from the only Highway Patrol employee breaking the residency policy. In a 2016 report, the State Auditor’s Office recommended discipline for a first sergeant who was commuting an hour and a half almost daily from Elizabethtown to his duty station in downtown Raleigh. The following year, it showed that several other high-ranking officers were breaking the residency policy and misrepresenting where they actually lived. One captain was commuting 187 miles from Morganton to Raleigh, and at least four others drove more than 100 miles.

Still, Administrative Law Judge Donald Overby concluded that the Highway Patrol had just cause to fire Devalle, noting that he ignored a supervisor’s warning to make sure he was following policies about where he could live and work, as well as performance reviews stating that he needed to spend more time with his troopers. He also “fails to appreciate the seriousness of his conduct, which is another factor that supports dismissal,” Overby wrote in his August 2019 decision.

While the appeals played out, Devalle was working as a Columbus County sheriff’s deputy and pursuing certification. The Sheriffs’ Education and Training Standards Commission was looking at the same facts and trying to determine whether Devalle should be allowed to continue to work in law enforcement. This was the question that would end up before the Supreme Court.

The commission’s Probable Cause Committee reviewed the Highway Patrol’s internal affairs investigation and voted to allege that he had committed willful failure to discharge duties, a misdemeanor. Devalle was shocked to learn in January 2019 that he was now being accused of a crime. It’s unclear if the Highway Patrol referred the case to a prosecutor; its policies make that a commander’s decision, and a spokesman declined to comment. The district attorneys in Wake and Wayne counties did not respond to inquiries.

The committee also accused him of lacking good moral character. Devalle contested the allegations.

In December 2019, Administrative Law Judge Melissa Owens Lassiter heard many of the same facts supporting Devalle’s firing. But she also heard from his new bosses: Jody Greene, who was elected Columbus County sheriff in 2018, and Jeremiah Johnson, then the principal at East Columbus Junior-Senior High School. Both said they had only vague knowledge of why Devalle was dismissed by the Highway Patrol—they had made no inquiries—but they found him trustworthy.

He also “fails to appreciate the seriousness of his conduct, which is another factor that supports dismissal.”

Donald Overby, Administrative Law Judge

They praised Devalle’s work ethic and dedication to the school’s students. Unlike some deputies, Greene said, Devalle didn’t boast about making arrests or finding drugs on the kids he mentored. Johnson described Devalle as an integral part of the administration, who also coached football and track and would sometimes buy lunch—even shoes—for students.

“I’ve been an administrator for 13 years, and I’ve worked with multiple SROs,” Johnson testified. “He’s the best so far, and it is that bond that we have with each other. We trust each other.”

Lassiter recommended that the commission consider reducing the sanction it proposed for Devalle on the good moral character charge. But the commission rejected that, citing her finding that Devalle was “evasive and feigned a lack of memory or confusion” while testifying before her. It decided to deny his certification indefinitely.

Devalle then appealed to the Columbus County Superior Court, where Judge Gregory Bell ruled in his favor in late 2021. Finding that Devalle “presently has good moral character,” based on the testimony from Greene and Johnson, Bell ordered the commission to approve certification.

Devalle also found a sympathetic audience among the overwhelmingly Republican N.C. Court of Appeals, which upheld the lower court’s decision in May 2023. A panel of three judges concluded that the commission’s actions were “arbitrary and capricious” and that the commission had held Devalle to a “heightened good moral character standard.”

An ‘evolving’ concept

At the state Supreme Court last month, the case took a more philosophical turn, calling into question the nature of moral character, redemption, and rehabilitation in the eyes of the law.

Chief Justice Paul Newby seemed particularly focused on what timeframe the sheriffs’ commission should have considered: Only the months leading up to Devalle’s termination from the Highway Patrol, or also the years he subsequently served in Columbus County?

Strickland, the attorney for the sheriffs’ commission, said there was no evidence to support a change in Devalle’s moral standing when he applied for the Columbus County job in 2017 or when the commission denied his certification request in 2019. Devalle could have shown remorse and sincerity earlier in the case, she said. Instead, while testifying in front of the administrative law judge he repeatedly said he did not recall specific events. “Fourteen different times Mr. Devalle said he didn’t remember, even after being shown a transcript of his interview during the internal affairs investigation at the Highway Patrol,” she said.

Newby pressed McGuinness on what could have changed with Devalle’s character between when he left the Highway Patrol and when he started in Columbus County.

“Your honor, in that timeframe, probably nothing,” McGuinness replied. He argued that the moment Devalle applied for the new job wasn’t the right time to assess his moral character. The more appropriate time, McGuinness said, was when Devalle appeared in front of an administrative law judge to contest the charges two and a half years later.

Justice Richard Dietz pushed the line of questioning further. Can moral character “change day to day?” he asked. “Like, can you have good moral character one day and bad moral character the next, then realize that and fix it and, you know, start being sort of angelic and suddenly have good moral character again the following day?”

McGuinness argued that good moral character is “evolving” and should be viewed as a sum of actions rather than a snapshot in time. He pointed to the case of Jeff Royall, an Iredell County sheriff’s deputy who was fired in 2009 after posting details on a local blog about an ongoing federal drug investigation. An administrative law judge recommended the commission suspend his certification for five years, with all but four months suspended, but the commission declined, citing what it deemed an exemplary, decades-long career. In that case, one of Royall’s former bosses testified that he had good moral character: “He’s the kind of guy, if he’s cutting a watermelon, he’ll give you the best piece.”

McGuinness, who represented Royall in the case, said the remark was a light-hearted moment met with laughter, but the so- called watermelon test “has been the loose, undefined standard that we’ve had for those 15 years.” The commission should have imposed a more clear and objective standard since then, he argued. “North Carolina,” he said, “should not be a watermelon jurisdiction.”

McGuinness also contended that the commission broke its own rules in failing to do any investigation of Devalle’s moral character beyond reviewing the Highway Patrol’s file and should have interviewed his superiors in Columbus County.

If the commission’s investigator had, McGuinness said, she would have known that Devalle was a well-respected deputy in his new job. “He did what we would want all good citizens, whether police officers, lawyers or anybody else to do: He rebuilt his career,” he said.

Strickland said that it is the deputy’s responsibility to provide mitigating evidence and that the commission did consider testimony from the Columbus County sheriff and the school principal. “They just found that it did not outweigh their initial findings based on all the other evidence in the record that Mr. Devalle lacked good moral character.”

Alternative definitions

North Carolina is far from the only place where the concept of “good moral character” has come under fire.

The difficulties in applying the term to licensing decisions across the country have prompted the International Association of Directors of Law Enforcement Standards and Training, the nonprofit that maintains a nationwide index of decertified officers, to begin developing a new model ethical standard.

The idea is that state regulators could adopt the standard to complement the statutory authority they already have, said Brian Grisham, the group’s deputy director. “Some states already have an ethical standard and define what is good character and what’s not, what’s tolerated and what’s not.”

“Fourteen different times Mr. Devalle said he didn’t remember, even after being shown a transcript of his interview during the internal affairs investigation at the Highway Patrol.”

Joy Strickland, Department of Justice attorney

Florida’s administrative code, for example, presents a laundry list of behaviors that would constitute a failure to maintain good moral character. In contrast, the rules for North Carolina’s sheriffs’ commission provide only a series of court cases where the term has previously been interpreted.

Ideally, the new model code will not only provide better notice to law enforcement officers about the bounds of acceptable behavior, but remove some of the inconsistencies in application, Grisham said. Practices can vary widely across agencies and time, and many regulatory agencies, including North Carolina’s, depend heavily on what employers report to them.

Any decisions that the N.C. Supreme Court or the sheriffs’ commission might make to better define “good moral conduct” are unlikely to have much effect on Devalle. Now 51, he kept his employment in Columbus County through three successive sheriffs and weathered a local corruption scandal.

Greene, the sheriff who was a key character reference for Devalle, resigned in early 2023 after District Attorney Jon David accused him of extensive misconduct. Devalle’s name was included in a federal subpoena that came later that year identifying 51 people and companies whose financial dealings with the sheriff’s office federal investigators wanted to examine more closely. But the next sheriff, Bill Rogers, another Highway Patrol veteran, kept him on.

County records show that in 2023, Devalle got a raise to reward 25 years of service and was promoted to captain. Rogers even put Devalle in charge of the sheriff’s office’s bid for accreditation.

But in 2024, county records show Devalle was demoted to a courthouse deputy, with his pay cut nearly in half. The sheriff’s office did not respond to questions about why, and state public records law does not give the public a right to that information. In an interview, Devalle explained the job change as “just an opportunity to do different things within the agency.”

He retired in January, he said, because he was eligible for full benefits and exhausted by the legal wrangling. Now, he volunteers at his church and oversees a youth volleyball program. He says he’s grateful that he had the opportunity to improve himself and be a positive influence. But he’s not particularly concerned with how his case may rewrite the standards of morality in law enforcement.

“Listen, how about this?” he said in response to a reporter’s question about it. “Leave me alone. Let me move on with my life.”

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Carli Brosseau is a reporter at The Assembly. She joined us from The News & Observer, where she was an investigative reporter. Her work has been honored by the Online News Association and Investigative Reporters and Editors, and published by ProPublica and The New York Times.

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Sarah Nagem is the editor of the Border Belt Independent. She has worked as a journalist in North Carolina for 15 years, reporting and editing stories about education, government, public safety, and more. Reach her at sarahnagem@borderbelt.org.