She removed her sunglasses completely and placed them inside her yellow bag.
Then looked directly into his eyes.
"Deputy, you turned an ordinary registration check into a serious incident."
He frowned.
"I was doing my job."
She shook her head.
"Then your report should explain why you believed the law permitted each action."
For several seconds, he stared.
Then gave a contemptuous laugh.
"You sound like somebody who spends too much time reading regulations."
Camille remained calm.
"I think officers should understand the rules governing their authority."
Voss looked toward the lieutenant.
He seemed to realize that continuing the argument might make the situation worse.
Then he leaned closer.
"Good luck getting anybody important to care about your expensive car."
Camille didn't answer.
She watched him walk away.
For a moment, she felt an unexpected sadness.
He wasn't simply angry.
He appeared to believe that his title protected him from having to explain himself.
And if that belief extended beyond this encounter, other residents might have suffered the same treatment without possessing the resources to challenge it.
Evelyn approached once the officers had finished their immediate work.
She looked toward the shattered windows.
Her eyes filled.
"Oh, Camille."
The younger woman turned.
Evelyn embraced her carefully.
For several seconds, Camille stood rigidly.
Then she returned the hug.
The tension she'd held throughout the confrontation finally began to break.
Evelyn pulled back.
"Are you okay?"
Camille nodded.
"Physically, mostly."
The older woman looked toward the Bentley.
"I can't believe he did that."
Camille exhaled.
"Neither can I."
For a moment, they stood together beside the car.
Then Evelyn asked whether Camille should call the county commissioners.
Camille shook her head.
"I've already reported the incident through the current procedures."
"But they're about to appoint you."
"The appointment takes effect tonight."
Evelyn frowned.
"That man has no idea."
Camille looked toward the street where the patrol vehicles had departed.
"No."
She paused.
"But that's not the part that matters most."
Evelyn waited.
Camille continued.
"He shouldn't need to know who I am to treat the facts seriously."
The older woman nodded slowly.
She understood.
Then she glanced toward Harold's porch.
"He's got the video."
Camille smiled faintly.
"Good."
The Bentley couldn't be driven safely with its damaged windows.
Camille contacted her insurance company and arranged for an appropriate vehicle transport service to move it to a secure repair facility.
She photographed the damage before anything was disturbed.
The shattered glass remained visible across the seats and pavement.
She also collected information from witnesses through the proper process, careful not to pressure anyone into telling a particular version of events.
Harold offered to share his recording.
Camille thanked him.
Then asked him to preserve the original file rather than editing it for social media.
He agreed.