“Do not touch me.”
He shoved her.
Her heel slipped on wet pavement.
She caught herself against the cruiser.
Keller raised the canister.
Nia said clearly:
“Federal credentials. Left interior pocket. FBI.”
Keller sprayed.
The first blast hit the right side of her face.
Pain arrived instantly.
White-hot.
Chemical fire across her eye, nose, skin, throat.
Nia turned away.
A second burst caught her cheek and forehead.
She dropped to one knee.
Someone inside the store shouted.
Keller yelled:
“I told you not to reach!”
Nia had not moved her hands toward the jacket.
Her handbag had fallen from the passenger seat when Keller yanked the door open.
He kicked it.
The bag skidded across the wet pavement.
The clasp snapped.
Its contents spilled.
Phone.
Keys.
Notebook.
Credential wallet.
The black leather wallet flipped once.
Opened.
Gold flashed beneath the gas-station light.
Keller stopped moving.
For the first time that night, his face showed something pure.
Fear.
The badge lay between them.
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION.
Nia coughed, one eye squeezed shut.
Keller stared down.
“No.”
From her watch came one small vibration.
Nia pressed the crown.
Headlights ignited beyond the pumps.
One pair.
Then another.
Then four more.
Black SUVs emerged from the rain.
Keller turned slowly.
Doors opened almost simultaneously.
Men and women in dark jackets moved out.
Large yellow letters flashed beneath the canopy.
FBI.
Marcus Hale was first across the pavement.
“Officer Keller!”
Keller’s hand instinctively moved toward his holster.
Six weapons came up.
“Do not touch it!”
His hand froze.
Marcus advanced.
“Step away from Agent Brooks.”
Keller looked down at Nia.
Then at the badge.
Then at the federal team.
His mouth moved.
Nothing came out.
Marcus reached Nia first.
“You hit?”
“Spray.”
“Medical is coming.”
She forced her injured eye open.
“Don't let him turn off his camera.”
Keller looked down.
The red light on his chest was still blinking.
Nia stared at it through watering eyes.
“My badge isn't your biggest problem.”
Keller’s face changed.
She wiped rain and chemical spray from her cheek.
“That camera just gave them everything.”
And for the first time, Officer Wade Keller understood that the witness he had been most comfortable carrying on his chest was the one witness he could no longer control.
Chapter Two: The Camera He Trusted
Keller’s first words after the FBI surrounded him were not an apology.
They were:
“She reached for a weapon.”
Marcus Hale looked at him.
“No, she didn't.”
“You weren't standing here.”
Marcus pointed toward Keller’s chest.
“We were.”
Keller looked at the camera again.
His fear deepened.
One of the federal agents approached slowly.
“Hands away from your belt.”
Keller obeyed.
“Turn around.”
“You're arresting me?”