Voss hesitated.
He'd expected the lieutenant to support him automatically.
Instead, Cross was asking for evidence.
Finally, Voss said the woman had refused to cooperate.
Camille raised her head.
"Lieutenant, I provided my license and offered the registration."
Cross looked toward her.
She continued.
"Your deputy broke the windows after the documents were available."
Voss scoffed.
"She's leaving out how argumentative she was."
Cross held up one hand.
"Everyone will have the opportunity to provide a statement."
Then he turned toward Harlow.
"Do not attach the car."
The tow driver nodded immediately.
Cross looked back at the Bentley.
For several seconds, he studied the damage.
He'd served in law enforcement for nearly twenty-five years.
He'd seen legitimate emergency vehicle entries.
He'd seen accidents.
And he'd seen officers make mistakes under pressure.
But there was nothing about this scene that suggested an urgent need to destroy multiple windows of a parked luxury car whose registered owner stood nearby.
The situation required documentation, supervisory review, and preservation of evidence.
Not another argument.
Camille asked for the incident number and instructions for documenting the damage.
Cross provided the relevant information.
He also confirmed that the original stolen-vehicle suspicion wasn't supported by the available records.
The Bentley wouldn't be towed on that basis.
Voss looked furious.
But the lieutenant's decision was clear.
Cross requested that both deputies preserve their body-camera recordings and prepare accurate reports.
He also instructed them not to alter or delete related messages.
Camille watched carefully.
She didn't identify herself as the incoming sheriff.
Cross would eventually learn who she was.
But at that moment, the encounter was being handled under the existing chain of command.
She wanted the record preserved without introducing a claim of authority that wasn't yet effective.
The lieutenant turned toward her.
"Ma'am, do you need medical attention?"
Camille considered the question.
Her shoulder hurt where Voss had shoved her.
She hadn't fallen.
But the movement had been sudden enough to cause discomfort.
"I'd like the incident documented and my shoulder checked."
Cross nodded.
He arranged the appropriate response.
Then asked whether she had someone who could help secure the damaged vehicle.
Camille looked toward Evelyn's house.
"Yes."
She paused.
"And I'd like to make sure no one attempts to move it without a valid reason."
Cross nodded.
"I understand."
For the first time that afternoon, Camille felt that an officer was actually listening.
Voss approached her one final time before leaving.
He stopped several feet away.
For a moment, he appeared ready to apologize.
Then he looked toward the damaged Bentley.
"You're going to make a big deal out of this, aren't you?"
Camille slowly turned.
The question astonished her.
Three windows were shattered.
Glass covered the pavement.
She'd been shoved.
And the sergeant was asking whether she intended to make a problem of it.