Naomi drew a slow breath.
The officer smiled again.
"There. Now you've got something to complain about."
For several seconds, only the wind moved.
Beyond the shoulder, green grass rolled toward a quiet lake. Tall trees lined the distant shore, and sunlight glittered across the water.
A bird called somewhere beyond the drainage ditch.
Naomi looked at the dent.
Then she turned toward the patrol cruiser parked behind her.
The vehicle sat at a slight angle to the road.
Through its windshield, she could see the small camera unit mounted near the dashboard.
A red indicator light was blinking.
Malloy followed her gaze.
"What are you looking at?"
Naomi looked back at him.
"Your recording equipment."
He laughed.
"Lady, that camera's not going to help you."
She said nothing.
He leaned into the window again.
"License and registration. Proper ones this time."
Naomi glanced at the torn pieces on her lap.
"You destroyed the license I gave you."
"Then I guess you've got a problem."
She slowly lifted one hand.
"I'm reaching for my identification wallet."
Malloy's right hand moved toward his duty belt.
"Don't try anything."
"I won't."
Naomi carefully opened the glove compartment.
Inside lay a black leather wallet, a vehicle insurance envelope, and a small folded invitation from the veterans' scholarship luncheon she had attended earlier that afternoon.
She removed the wallet with two fingers.
Then she opened it.
Malloy leaned toward the window, still wearing the expression of a man expecting to find another reason to mock her.
Naomi raised the credential so he could see it clearly.
Her voice was calm.
"Commander. United States Navy."
The officer stopped smiling.
He looked at the identification.
Then at her face.
Then back at the credential.
For the first time since approaching the car, Derek Malloy seemed uncertain.
"Wait."
Naomi said nothing.
He leaned closer.
"You're military?"
"Active duty."
"What kind of commander?"
"A commissioned officer in the United States Navy."
Malloy's mouth tightened.
His gaze fell toward the torn pieces of her state-issued license.
Then toward the dent in the driver's door.
Then, briefly, toward the patrol cruiser.
Naomi closed the leather wallet.
"The temporary license you destroyed was valid," she said. "My military identification does not give me special immunity from traffic laws."
Malloy remained silent.
She continued.
"But it does establish who I am. And now that you know my identity, I expect you to document this stop accurately."
He swallowed.
Naomi turned her head slightly toward the patrol cruiser.
"Especially since your dashcam has been recording."