But she also knew the body cameras were recording.
And she knew the facts.
So she answered.
"I'm documenting what happened."
Voss stared at her.
Then turned away.
Camille watched silently.
She would remember that exchange more clearly than almost anything else that afternoon.
Harold Jensen continued filming from his porch.
He had been recording for nearly eight minutes.
His hands were beginning to ache from holding the phone.
But he didn't stop.
He'd seen Voss damage the car.
He'd heard the registration confirmed.
And he'd watched the deputy continue insisting the Bentley needed to be taken.
The experience brought back his own encounter weeks earlier.
During that stop, Voss had claimed there was a problem with the registration on Harold's aging pickup.
Harold produced the documents.
The deputy insisted additional verification was necessary.
Then a Ridgeway tow truck appeared.
The driver charged Harold a cancellation fee after the vehicle was ultimately released.
Harold paid because he was tired and wanted to go home.
But he kept the receipt.
Now he saw the same company.
The same deputy.
And another vehicle owner being told that legitimate documents weren't enough.
He felt something cold settle in his stomach.
He wasn't ready to claim the encounters were connected by a deliberate scheme.
But he no longer believed the similarities should be ignored.
Harold continued recording.
Then he called his daughter.
She worked as an administrative assistant at a local law office.
He told her to preserve the recording if anything happened to his phone.
She promised she would.
For the first time, Harold felt that he might have evidence capable of protecting more than one person.
The on-duty lieutenant arrived fifteen minutes later.
His name was Nathan Cross.
He was fifty-one, with a calm manner and a reputation for avoiding unnecessary confrontations.
He stepped from his patrol vehicle and looked toward the Bentley.
The shattered glass immediately caught his attention.
Then he noticed the woman in the olive-gray jacket and sage-green skirt.
He didn't recognize her.
He had received a transition notice concerning the incoming sheriff but hadn't met Camille in person.
Her fashionable clothing and small yellow handbag gave no obvious indication of her professional background.
Cross approached Solis.
"What's going on?"
The younger deputy gave a factual summary.
She described the original dispatch information, the registration verification, the damaged windows, and the disputed towing request.
Cross listened without interrupting.
Then he looked toward Voss.
"Why are the windows broken?"
Voss folded his arms.
"Vehicle recovery."
Cross stared.
"Recovery from what?"
"Possible theft."
The lieutenant looked toward Solis.
She shook her head.
"Registration is confirmed. There's no verified stolen-vehicle report."
Cross turned back to Voss.
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then he asked a question that made the sergeant's expression tighten.
"What immediate circumstance required you to break the windows?"