“Adrian Ross.”
“Yes.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“Augusta.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Macon.”
“At midnight?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“Work.”
Wells looked at the uniform.
“What kind of work?”
“Legal.”
Pike snorted.
Adrian looked at him.
Pike glanced away.
Wells moved closer to the sedan.
It was a dark graphite Lincoln.
Nothing government-marked.
Adrian’s personal vehicle.
Wells shined a flashlight through the rear window.
He could see the garment bag.
A leather briefcase.
A black travel case.
“What’s in the back?”
“My belongings.”
“What’s in the trunk?”
“More belongings.”
Wells turned.
“Open it.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Are you asking for consent to search my vehicle?”
Wells’s expression shifted.
“What?”
“If you’re asking for permission to search the trunk, I do not consent.”
The parking lot became suddenly quieter.
Pike moved closer.
Wells smiled.
Not warmly.
“You lawyers always talk like that?”
“I answered your question.”
“I didn’t ask a question.”
“You instructed me to open private property.”
Wells’s jaw tightened.
“Pop the trunk.”
“No, Sergeant.”
Wells stared at the stars on Adrian’s shoulders.
Then at the ribbons.
“You military?”
“I am.”
“What rank?”
“Major General.”
Pike looked at Adrian again.
Wells laughed.
It was short.
Derisive.
“Sure.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“My military identification is inside my wallet.”
Wells had not looked.
He was still holding only the driver’s license.
“You carry a fake military ID too?”
Adrian did not answer immediately.
“What makes you believe anything I’m wearing is fake?”
Wells pointed toward his chest.
“Too many ribbons.”
Adrian almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was absurd.
“I served thirty years.”
“Everybody says that.”
“No.”
Adrian’s voice hardened.
“Not everybody does.”
Wells stepped closer.
“You’re getting an attitude.”
Adrian’s grandfather’s voice entered his mind.
Never confuse power with character.
Adrian said:
“I offered you identification.”
“I do not consent to a vehicle search.”
“I have not threatened you.”
“I have not attempted to leave.”
“If you believe I committed an offense, tell me what it is.”
Wells jabbed one finger into Adrian’s chest.
“You people always have to make things difficult.”
Adrian looked down at the finger.
Then back up.