Warren looked at Holloway.
She finally stepped closer.
“Let’s slow down.”
Brennan turned.
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“Then what?”
“We’ve got no confirmation yet.”
“He’s refusing.”
“He refused the bag search and phone unlock.”
“Exactly.”
“That is not the same thing as theft.”
The words landed.
Warren watched Brennan’s face.
The officer’s anger changed direction.
Toward his partner.
“You want to handle it?”
Holloway looked at Warren.
Then at the bag.
Then at Brennan.
“I want to verify the report.”
Before she could move, another uniformed man approached.
Older.
Late forties.
Captain bars.
Russell Doyle.
“What’s going on?”
Brennan answered first.
“Possible theft suspect. Combative. Refusing search.”
Warren nearly interrupted.
Then stopped himself.
Doyle looked at him.
Not at Brennan.
At him.
“Sir, cooperate and we can get this cleared up.”
Warren stared.
“You have heard one sentence about what happened.”
Doyle’s expression changed.
“I heard enough.”
“Then I would like to give you my version.”
“We don’t need a courtroom speech.”
The sentence almost pulled the truth out of Warren.
Almost.
He resisted.
He did not want special treatment.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
He wanted to know what happened when he was merely Warren Foster, fifty-four, Black, sweater, carry-on.
If he announced who he was now, the rest of the encounter would become contaminated by status.
He hated himself slightly for thinking like a judge in a dangerous moment.
But he did.
“I would like your badge number.”
Doyle laughed once.
Warren continued.
“And his.”
“You can file whatever complaint you want later.”
“I intend to.”
Brennan smirked.
Warren looked toward the ceiling.
“There are cameras covering this area.”
Doyle folded his arms.
“So?”
“I am requesting that any relevant surveillance footage be preserved.”
The captain’s smile faded.
People had begun watching openly now.
A woman nearby held her phone vertically.
A young man standing beside luggage had turned his camera toward them.
Brennan noticed.
“Put the phones away,” he snapped.
Nobody moved.
Doyle said, “Sir, last chance. Cooperate.”
Warren looked at him.
“I have complied with multiple instructions already.”
“You refused the bag.”
“Because I did not consent to the search.”
“You refused the phone.”
“Same reason.”
Doyle shook his head.
“You people watch too many television shows.”
Warren’s entire body became still.
You people.
Holloway looked sharply at the captain.
Doyle seemed to realize what he had said.
Or perhaps he did not.
Warren asked, “What people?”
The captain waved one hand.
“People who think everything is a constitutional crisis.”
Warren almost smiled despite himself.
If only the man knew.
Brennan moved behind Warren.
“Search him again.”
Holloway frowned.
“We already did.”
“Do it.”