“What is this?”
The woman looked down at her uniform in the gravel.
“Verification.”
The lead SUV stopped behind the patrol cruiser.
The rear door opened.
A senior command officer stepped out in uniform.
Two state troopers exited another vehicle.
The command officer looked toward the Black woman.
Then the garment bag.
Then the local officer.
His entire expression changed.
He walked quickly.
“General.”
The local officer turned.
The command officer stopped several feet away and gave a formal salute.
The woman returned it automatically.
Even in sequins.
Even beside the highway.
Even with her uniform lying on gravel.
“Ma’am, are you all right?”
The woman looked at her arm where the officer had shoved her.
Then at the garment bag.
“Yes.”
The command officer’s eyes followed hers.
“What happened to your uniform?”
The local officer stepped forward.
“I’m conducting a traffic investigation.”
The command officer turned.
“Based on what?”
The officer straightened.
“Possible stolen vehicle. Possible fraudulent credentials.”
The command officer looked toward the black sedan.
Then toward the woman.
Then back.
“Did dispatch return the vehicle stolen?”
“No.”
“Registration mismatch?”
“No.”
“License problem?”
“No.”
“Military ID failed verification?”
The local officer hesitated.
“I hadn’t finished.”
The command officer’s face hardened.
“You called anybody to verify it?”
“No.”
The woman said nothing.
She did not need to.
One of the state troopers noticed the garment bag.
He bent down.
The local officer quickly said:
“Don’t touch that. It may be evidence.”
The trooper stopped.
The command officer looked at him.
“Evidence of what?”
The local officer’s mouth opened.
Closed.
The general finally spoke.
“He believed I was impersonating a general.”
The command officer looked toward her.
“What?”
“He said the identification could be fake.”
The local officer interrupted.
“Her appearance did not match what I expected.”
The sentence escaped before he seemed to understand what he had said.
Nobody moved.
The general stared.
The command officer stared.
Even the officer himself looked as though he wanted the words back.
The general’s voice was almost soft.
“What does a general look like?”
The officer’s face reddened.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“I meant the circumstances.”
“Which circumstances?”
“The vehicle. The clothing. The—”
He stopped.
The general waited.