She lifted both slightly.
“There.”
Keller moved closer.
“Turn around.”
Rachel stepped forward again.
“Officer, please, there's been a misunderstanding.”
Keller snapped:
“Back up.”
Rachel did.
Ava did not.
She asked:
“Am I being detained?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Suspected theft.”
“What item have I stolen?”
Keller looked toward the clutch display.
“That's what we're determining.”
“So you have no identified missing item.”
“Turn around.”
Ava remained facing him.
“Officer Keller, before you put your hands on me, I suggest you ask the store manager to come downstairs.”
That irritated him.
“You don't give orders here.”
“Neither do you.”
His face flushed.
Ava continued.
“You are investigating an allegation.”
“You are not running this store.”
Keller laughed.
“You sure about that?”
Ava's expression did not change.
“Yes.”
Very sure.
Keller reached for her wrist.
Ava did not pull away.
His fingers closed around her glove.
Rachel gasped.
Ava looked down at his hand.
Then at him.
“Remove your hand.”
Keller moved behind her.
“Turn around.”
“You don't have grounds to arrest me.”
“We'll determine that downtown.”
Ava felt the first cuff close around her right wrist.
Metal over glove.
She inhaled slowly.
Every instinct told her to end it.
Tell him.
District Attorney.
Owner.
Call Claire.
Call the police chief.
Call anyone.
She could end the entire thing in five seconds.
But something stopped her.
The anonymous complaint.
The staff patterns.
The dismissed complaint in Keller's personnel summary.
The sentence he had almost completed.
You people.
Ava wanted to know what happened when he believed she was ordinary.
That thought disturbed her even as she had it.
Because she was not ordinary in this situation.
She had power.
Connections.
A legal education.
An office.
Ownership.
She could afford to wait longer than many people could.
Still, she waited.
The second cuff clicked.
Keller pulled her wrists slightly upward.
Unnecessary.
Ava's shoulders tightened.
“Do not do that.”
He leaned near her ear.
“Drop the attitude.”
Ava turned her head.
His face was close.
“People like you don't belong near merchandise this expensive.”
There it was.
No recovery this time.
No correction.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Two shoppers began recording openly.
Ava felt something cold settle inside her.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
She had heard versions of the sentence from clients years earlier.
From witnesses.
From women who were asked whether they could afford restaurants before receiving menus.
From Black attorneys mistaken for defendants.
From a judge once asked whether she was “the stenographer.”
Still, hearing it while handcuffed inside the business her mother built felt different.
Personal.
Keller tightened his grip.
Ava looked at him over her shoulder.
“Keep your hands on me.”
He smirked.
“Excuse me?”
“Every second makes the lawsuit easier.”
His face changed.
Then he shoved her lightly toward the glass counter.
Not enough to injure.
Enough to demonstrate who controlled movement.