If he had taken it legally, there would be a reason.
If he had not—
Then the radio had answered.
Now Internal Affairs stood on the street.
The investigator in the charcoal suit approached Mara.
“Ma’am, are you injured?”
“Right wrist and shoulder.”
“Medical?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ll call EMS.”
The sergeant interrupted.
“She was detained during a narcotics investigation.”
The investigator turned toward him.
“No one asked you.”
“I need to explain.”
“You’ll get that opportunity.”
The sergeant looked toward the evidence bag.
The investigator followed his eyes.
“Place it on the hood.”
He did.
Slowly.
“Step away.”
He obeyed.
That was new.
Mara noticed.
The investigator photographed the bag where it sat.
Then photographed Mara’s sedan.
Open driver’s door.
Untouched interior.
No disturbed floor mat.
No search.
The investigator looked toward the younger officer.
“Was the vehicle searched?”
The officer swallowed.
“No.”
The sergeant turned sharply.
“Watch yourself.”
The Internal Affairs investigator looked at him.
“Don’t speak to him.”
The younger officer continued.
“No full search.”
“Did Sergeant Collins reach beneath the driver seat?”
“No.”
The sergeant’s face hardened.
The investigator asked:
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“No.”
She pointed toward the bag.
“Where did that come from?”
The younger officer looked at the sergeant.
Then down.
“I saw him remove it from his left cargo pocket.”
The entire street seemed to contract around that sentence.
Sergeant Collins went white.
“That’s a lie.”
The younger officer flinched.
Mara watched him.
He looked young suddenly.
Not in years.
In confidence.
The sergeant stepped toward him.
“You better think very carefully.”
The Internal Affairs investigator moved between them.
“That is enough.”
Collins stared at the younger officer.
“You’re destroying your career.”
The younger officer’s face changed.
Something hardened.
“No.”
He looked at Mara.
Then back at his sergeant.
“I think I almost did that ten minutes ago.”
Internal Affairs separated both officers.
Another supervisor arrived.
EMS.
Crime scene technician.
The quiet residential street became crowded with official vehicles.
Residents came outside.
Phones appeared in windows.
Mara hated that.
She did not want spectacle.
She wanted her shoulder to stop hurting.
She wanted dinner.
She wanted the last twenty minutes erased.
But reality rarely negotiated after damage.