Witnesses could be intimidated.
And people already willing to falsify arrest reports might do something worse.
That morning, Daniel was not supposed to have any direct contact with Officer Briggs.
His assignment was simple.
Drive to a storage facility near Jefferson Avenue.
Meet a confidential witness.
Collect copies of financial documents.
Then return to the secure office used by the investigative team.
The witness had called the previous evening.
He was nervous.
He claimed to have information about a local towing company that had been receiving unusually favorable treatment from Riverside officers.
The company regularly collected vehicles following arrests.
According to the witness, some cars were diverted to private storage lots before official impound records were created.
Owners sometimes paid thousands of dollars in fees to recover them.
Others never recovered their vehicles at all.
Daniel suspected the towing company had become a source of hidden payments.
But suspicion was not evidence.
The witness said he had records.
Invoices.
Messages.
Photographs.
A handwritten payment ledger.
Daniel needed those records preserved before anyone learned they existed.
At six forty-eight that morning, he turned onto Jefferson Avenue.
A white utility truck pulled out of a side street ahead of him.
He slowed.
At the next intersection, a police SUV appeared behind his sedan.
The light bar activated.
Blue.
Red.
Blue.
Daniel glanced into his mirror.
He was not speeding.
His registration was valid.
His vehicle had no known mechanical violations.
But he pulled over immediately.
He placed the car in park.
Lowered the window.
And kept both hands visible on the steering wheel.
The police SUV stopped several yards behind him.
A white officer climbed out.
Tall.
Early forties.
Square jaw.
Close-cropped hair.
Dark sunglasses despite the overcast morning.
The name tag on his uniform read KELLER.
Daniel watched him approach through the side mirror.
The officer stopped beside the driver-side window.
“License and registration.”
Daniel looked up.
“Good morning, Officer. Can you tell me why I was stopped?”
Keller stared at him.
“License and registration.”
Daniel kept his voice calm.
“Certainly. My license is in my wallet. Registration is in the glove compartment.”
“Then get them.”
Daniel moved slowly.
He retrieved the documents.
Keller took them.
Then examined the driver's license.
“Where are you headed?”
“To a business appointment.”
“What kind of business?”
“Professional.”
Keller smirked.
“Professional what?”
Daniel remained polite.
“Am I being detained for a traffic violation?”
Keller lowered his sunglasses.
“You asking questions because you've got something to hide?”
“No.”
“Then answer mine.”
Daniel looked straight ahead.