“What?”
“The one where I became somebody.”
Hale stared.
Walter shook his head.
“I was somebody before that car turned the corner.”
Nobody spoke.
Alicia looked at her father.
Pride and pain moved across her face at once.
Walter continued:
“You had my license.”
“My wife.”
“My neighbors.”
“Dispatch.”
“The caller correcting himself.”
“You had enough.”
Hale looked down.
Walter said:
“You don’t get credit for changing behavior after learning who my daughter is.”
Alicia’s eyes hardened.
Hale whispered:
“Yes, sir.”
Walter frowned.
“No.”
Hale looked up.
“Don’t ‘sir’ me because of uniform you just found out I used to wear.”
“Call me Mr. Brooks.”
“Yes, Mr. Brooks.”
“Good.”
A patrol supervisor arrived seven minutes later.
Sergeant Linda Park.
She exited quickly.
Took one look at scene.
Saw general.
Saw two Army officers.
Saw two elderly residents.
Saw Hale.
Her expression became professional in the way people become when they know consequences are arriving faster than explanations.
“Officer Hale.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Step over here.”
Alicia said:
“Sergeant.”
Park turned.
“General.”
“My office will not contact your department leadership about disciplinary outcome.”
Park looked surprised.
Alicia continued.
“My father is citizen in your jurisdiction.”
“This must be handled under your normal process.”
Walter looked at her.
Good.
She had learned.
Park nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But,” Alicia added, “every recording involving this stop needs preservation.”
“Already requesting.”
“And medical evaluation.”
Walter groaned.
“No.”
Alicia looked.
“Dad.”
“I’m not going to hospital because some boy made me sit on lawn.”
Evelyn said:
“You hit hip.”
“It’s attached.”
Alicia turned to her mother.
“Mom.”
Evelyn nodded.
“He needs checked.”
Walter looked around.
“This is conspiracy.”
Dana almost laughed.
Walter saw.
“Young lady, don’t encourage.”
“No, sir.”
“Mr. Brooks.”
“Yes, Mr. Brooks.”
Walter liked her.
Sergeant Park approached Hale.
“Turn over your duty weapon.”
His face changed.
“Sergeant?”
“Administrative.”
“Not discipline.”
“Pending review.”
“But—”
“Now.”
He looked toward Walter.
Then general.
Then his supervisor.
For first time since arriving, he seemed young.
Walter disliked how satisfying other people found that.
Mrs. Kelley whispered:
“Good.”
Walter heard.
He looked across street.
“Be nice.”
She stared.
“He threw you down.”
“I know.”
“You’re telling me be nice?”