“I want the original transaction record and the exact report sent to police.”
The manager looked toward the store.
“That information may be confidential.”
The supervisor's jaw tightened.
“Then we'll obtain it through the appropriate process.”
She looked back toward Cole.
For the first time, the officer appeared frightened.
The judge watched quietly.
She knew it would be easy to stand in the middle of the parking lot and announce that everyone involved would regret what had happened.
She could have told the officer that his career was over.
She could have demanded immediate punishment.
She could have used her judicial title to intimidate the people who had intimidated her.
But she understood how dangerous that would be.
Her professional role required restraint.
Her personal rights deserved protection.
And the integrity of any subsequent investigation depended on facts rather than public declarations of guilt.
So she remained a witness.
She answered questions accurately.
She accepted medical attention.
And she allowed the appropriate authorities to handle the incident.
When the paramedic finished examining her wrist, he recommended further assessment because of the swelling and shoulder pain.
She agreed.
Before leaving, she looked toward her groceries.
The strawberries were crushed.
Several containers had split open.
The flowers lay partly beneath a shopping cart.
One of the marshals noticed her expression.
“We can arrange for the vehicle and belongings to be secured.”
She nodded.
Then looked toward the young cashier.
“Would you mind checking whether the flowers can be saved?”
The cashier looked surprised.
Then nodded quickly.
“Of course.”
The judge smiled faintly.
“They were for my mother.”
The young woman's expression softened.
She carefully lifted the bouquet.
Several stems were damaged, but the lilies and roses remained mostly intact.
She wrapped them in fresh paper.
Then handed them to one of the marshals.
The judge watched.
Something about the small act of kindness nearly broke her composure.
She had spent the afternoon being treated as though her appearance made her suspicious.
Now a young woman who earned an hourly wage was doing something thoughtful without expecting anything in return.
The judge took a slow breath.
“Thank you.”
The cashier nodded.
Then whispered, “Please tell your mother I hope she likes them.”
The judge smiled through tears.
“I will.”
By the time she arrived at the medical facility, her mother had called five times.
The judge finally answered.
“Hi, Mama.”
Her mother's voice was frightened.
“Where are you?”
The judge closed her eyes.
“I'm safe.”