She saw the exact moment he read the rank.
For a brief instant, his expression changed.
Then he looked at her.
A small, contemptuous smile appeared.
"Police chief?"
Naomi nodded.
"Yes."
Grant laughed.
"That's a pretty ambitious fake."
He slapped the case against his palm.
Then tossed it back onto the Lexus.
Walter shouted from the sidewalk.
"That's real! I've seen her at department events!"
Grant turned angrily.
"Back up, or you're next!"
Walter lowered his voice.
But he kept recording.
His hands were shaking so badly that he had to hold the phone with both hands.
Then he did something that would change the next few minutes.
He called the police department's public emergency number from his wife's phone while continuing to record on his own.
He explained that officers were detaining the department's chief at her private residence.
The dispatcher initially asked him to repeat the name.
Walter did.
Then he described the address, the silver Lexus, and the officers.
The dispatcher recognized the seriousness of the report.
And the message began moving through the communications center.
Deputy Chief Adrian Brooks was reviewing paperwork at a district headquarters when his phone rang.
The caller was the watch commander.
Brooks answered without looking away from his computer.
"Brooks."
The commander's voice sounded urgent.
"Sir, we have a situation involving Chief Carter."
Brooks sat upright.
"What happened?"
"A resident reports she's being detained by patrol officers at her home."
For a moment, Brooks thought he'd misheard.
"Her home?"
"Yes, sir."
He looked toward the wall clock.
"What address?"
The commander provided it.
Brooks recognized Oakridge Lane immediately.
He'd visited Naomi's house several times for informal dinners and professional gatherings.
"Who are the officers?"
There was a pause.
"Sergeant Elias Grant and Officer Daniel Reeves."
Brooks closed his eyes.
He knew Grant's name from the pending patrol-review report.
"Have they confirmed the chief's identity?"
"Not yet."
Brooks stood.
"Get a supervisor on the channel. Tell them to preserve all relevant recordings and verify the situation immediately. I'm heading there."
He ended the call.
Then grabbed his keys.
For several seconds, he stood motionless.
He'd served in law enforcement for nearly thirty years.
He understood that an alarm response could legitimately require officers to investigate.
But he also knew Naomi.
She wasn't someone who would refuse a straightforward identification check.
And if an officer was restraining her despite readily available evidence of ownership and identity, something had gone terribly wrong.
He moved toward his vehicle.
Then called the command center again.
"Make sure nobody destroys or alters a second of that footage."
The dispatcher confirmed the instruction.
Brooks entered his black SUV.