She walked directly to the security checkpoint, placed the black case on the table, and looked the officer in the eyes.
"Good afternoon. I'm here for a scheduled evidence transfer."
The blonde officer barely concealed her amusement.
"You're here for what?"
"A federal evidence transfer. The appointment was confirmed this morning."
The woman opened her handbag, removed a slim black credential wallet, and displayed an identification card bearing a federal agency seal.
The officer did not even read it.
Instead, she looked the woman up and down.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The woman remained composed.
"Excuse me?"
The officer gestured toward the champagne-colored dress.
"You come walking in here dressed for a nightclub, carrying some big black suitcase, and expect me to believe you're a federal agent?"
"It's an evidence case, not a suitcase."
The officer smirked.
"Sure it is."
Across the lobby, a male patrol officer paused beside a row of black waiting chairs. Another officer near the entrance turned his head.
The woman lowered her credential wallet slightly.
"Please verify my identification through your supervisor. My appointment is with the police chief."
That only made the blonde officer's expression harden.
"Don't tell me how to do my job."
"I'm asking you to follow the verification procedure."
The officer leaned across the inspection table.
"And I'm telling you that you don't walk into my station throwing around government titles because you think you're somebody special."