Walter's hands trembled.
He'd seen Naomi walk through the neighborhood hundreds of times.
She attended block gatherings.
Helped organize a school-supply collection.
And once spent an afternoon speaking with young residents about careers in public service.
Now she was being treated like an intruder inside her own garage.
Walter raised his voice.
"She's the chief of police!"
Grant laughed.
"Sure she is!"
The sarcasm stunned him.
Walter looked toward the younger officer.
"Please check! Her identification is right there!"
Reeves glanced toward the Lexus.
But Grant had already pulled out the handcuffs.
Naomi heard the first metallic click.
Then felt the cold pressure around her wrist.
She'd used handcuffs thousands of times during her career.
She understood the importance of proper application, checking fit, and recognizing when someone's position created unnecessary discomfort.
Now she was experiencing the process from the other side.
Grant closed the second cuff.
Naomi winced.
"Sergeant, the cuffs are too tight."
He didn't respond.
"Please check the fit."
He leaned closer.
"You don't get to make demands."
Naomi closed her eyes briefly.
Then opened them.
"That's not a demand. It's a safety concern."
Grant laughed.
"You've got an answer for everything."
He began pulling her away from the hood.
The sculptural skirt dragged across the car.
Naomi struggled to keep her footing.
"Slow down," she said. "The dress is caught."
Grant looked toward the satin.
For a moment, he seemed irritated by the inconvenience.
Then he tugged her arm again.
Naomi gasped.
Reeves stepped forward.
"Sergeant, stop. Her clothing is caught."
Grant turned.
"What?"
The younger officer pointed toward the skirt.
"We need to free the fabric before moving her."
For several seconds, Grant stared.
Then he released enough tension for Reeves to carefully move the trapped material without touching Naomi unnecessarily.
It was the first time anyone had responded to one of her safety concerns.
But it came too late to prevent the bruising pressure already building around her wrists.
Naomi looked toward her identification case.
It had fallen from her handbag during the struggle.
The leather cover was partly open on the hood.
She recognized the flash of gold beneath the sunlight.
"Officer Reeves."
The younger officer looked up.
"Ma'am?"
"Please look at my identification."
Grant scoffed.
"We've already discussed your fake badge."
Naomi ignored him.
She kept her attention on Reeves.
"The badge is official. My department identification is inside the case."
Reeves looked toward the hood.
Then toward Grant.
"Sergeant, I think we should check it."
Grant's face tightened.
He picked up the case.
For several seconds, he examined the gold shield.
Then opened the identification card.
Naomi watched his eyes move across the text.