The tone.
The thing he hated.
Not disrespect exactly.
Confidence without permission.
“You got somewhere important to be?”
“I have a flight.”
“Airport?”
“Yes.”
“Business?”
“That is not relevant to the stop.”
Boyd’s jaw tightened.
“Everything is relevant if I ask.”
Sarah looked at him.
No anger.
That somehow made it worse.
She wore the orange coat folded slightly open over the structured olive-gold dress. A metallic bronze corset-style belt defined the waist. Large black sunglasses rested atop her head. She looked like she belonged in a diplomatic motorcade, not on Boyd’s shoulder.
He glanced into the car.
One garment bag.
A black travel case.
Small handbag.
No clutter.
No fast-food wrappers.
No nervousness.
“What do you do?”
Sarah paused.
“Government work.”
Boyd laughed.
“What kind?”
“Administrative.”
That was technically true.
Senior strategic defense planning involved administration.
Just not the kind Boyd imagined.
“You got government ID?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Sarah looked toward her coat.
“Inside pocket.”
Boyd shifted.
“Don't reach.”
“I wasn't going to without permission.”
He leaned closer to the window.
“What agency?”
Sarah’s expression changed subtly.
“Why?”
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“Attitude.”
Sarah stared.
Boyd smiled.
“You've got a lot of it.”
“I have answered every question relevant to your stop.”
“I decide what's relevant.”
“Then decide whether you are issuing a citation.”
He stepped back.
“Get out.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed.
“For what purpose?”
“Step out of the vehicle.”
“Am I being detained?”
Boyd’s hand moved toward his belt.
“You want to make this difficult?”
“No.”
“Then step out.”
Sarah looked forward through the windshield.
For less than a second, she considered something.
Boyd noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She opened the door.
Stepped onto the shoulder.
The full effect of her clothing seemed to irritate him anew.
The orange coat caught the hot wind.
Her black heels clicked against the pavement.
She was nearly his height.
That mattered to men like Boyd more than they admitted.
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Hands on the car.”
Sarah’s voice lowered.
“Sheriff Cleary, I strongly suggest you reconsider what you are about to do.”
He grabbed her wrist.
“Threatening me?”
“No.”
“What would you call that?”
“A professional warning.”
He twisted her arm behind her.
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
But she did not resist.
“Other hand.”
She gave it.
The cuffs closed.
“Resisting arrest.”
Sarah turned her head slightly.
“I did not resist.”
“Disorderly conduct.”
“I have not raised my voice.”
“Failure to comply.”
“I complied with every physical instruction.”
Boyd leaned close.
“We'll call it the attitude package.”
Sarah looked at him.
Something about her eyes finally made him uncomfortable.