“You think you’re clever?”
“No.”
She looked directly at him.
“I think evidence is traceable.”
The sergeant’s hand tightened around her wrist.
“You’re in no position to tell me how evidence works.”
“Then prove it.”
A silence opened between them.
The woman across the street had taken out her phone.
The teenagers were openly filming.
The sergeant saw that too.
Now he had two choices.
Refuse.
Or perform confidence.
He chose the second.
He pressed the radio microphone on his shoulder.
“Dispatch.”
Static.
“Go ahead.”
“Run evidence tag eight-four-two-one.”
The Black woman watched his face.
The younger officer watched too.
Dispatch answered:
“Stand by.”
Five seconds.
Maybe six.
Long enough to feel wrong.
The sergeant shifted.
“What exactly are you checking?”
Dispatch did not answer immediately.
Then the voice returned.
Different tone.
“Unit Twelve, repeat that evidence number.”
The sergeant looked irritated.
“Eight-four-two-one.”
Silence again.
The younger officer took one slow step backward.
The sergeant noticed.
“What?”
The younger man said nothing.
Dispatch returned.
“Sergeant, stop.”
The street became completely quiet.
The sergeant touched his radio.
“What?”
“Do not make further contact with the driver.”
He stared.
“Explain.”
Another pause.
Then:
“Evidence tag 8421 was checked out of the controlled property room at 08:17 this morning under your badge number.”
No one moved.
The Black woman slowly turned her face toward him.
His grip loosened.
Dispatch continued.
“Internal Affairs has been notified. Maintain position. Do not leave the scene.”
The sergeant stared at the bag still pinched between his fingers.
The woman spoke softly.
“Now you can search beneath my seat.”
A black unmarked sedan appeared at the far end of the street.
It accelerated toward them.
The sergeant looked at the younger officer.
“You called them?”
The younger man shook his head.
“No.”
“You told somebody?”
“No.”
The sergeant stepped backward.
The evidence bag suddenly looked radioactive in his hand.
He looked toward the woman.
For the first time since the stop began, she saw fear.
Not remorse.
Consequence.
The unmarked sedan stopped behind the patrol cruiser.
Two people got out.
A woman in a charcoal suit.
A man in plain clothes with a badge on his belt.
The woman crossed the street rapidly.