He turned toward Miles.
"Get her keys."
Miles frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"What are we searching for?"
Garrett stepped closer.
"Evidence."
"Evidence of what?"
The question hung between them.
Garrett's mouth tightened.
Then he looked toward me.
"Where's the black case?"
A chill moved through my chest.
Until that moment, he had asked about my purse, my registration, and the cost of my car. He had never mentioned the communications case. I had told him that authorized equipment was secured inside the vehicle, but I had not described its appearance or location.
"What black case?" I asked.
Garrett's expression changed immediately.
"Don't play games."
I studied him.
"Deputy, I never described a black case to you."
For a fraction of a second, he looked trapped.
Then he recovered.
"Most expensive equipment comes in a case."
Miles turned toward him.
"Garrett."
The older deputy ignored him.
"Where is it?"
I remained still.
"I've offered to verify my identity through official channels. I have not authorized you to remove government equipment from my vehicle."
He looked toward the trunk.
Then he raised the baton again.
Miles stepped in front of him.
"No."
Garrett stared.
"What did you say?"
Miles's voice trembled slightly, but he did not move.
"I said no. You aren't breaking into that trunk."
Garrett took a step closer.
"You've got a problem with following orders."
"I have a problem with destroying evidence and damaging property without justification."
The older deputy grabbed Miles by the front of his uniform and shoved him backward.
Miles stumbled against the patrol SUV.
Across the fence, Ruth shouted, "I GOT THAT TOO!"
Garrett spun toward her.
"YOU WANT TO GO TO JAIL?"
She held her phone steady.
"For recording you? Go ahead and explain that to the judge!"
Garrett released his holster retention strap again.
Miles raised both hands.
"Garrett! Leave her alone!"
For a terrible moment, nobody moved.
A truck passed on the highway, its tires humming against the pavement. The driver slowed, saw the shattered windshield and the two deputies arguing, then accelerated away. Heat shimmered above the road, and the air smelled of dust, hot rubber, and the faint chemical odor released by damaged automotive components.
I stared at Garrett's right hand.
It was still near his weapon.
I had investigated enough violent encounters to know that a person could cross from threats to irreversible action with almost no warning. My options were limited. I couldn't retreat, stand, or protect Ruth from where I sat.
So I focused on keeping my voice calm.
"Deputy Gity."
He turned.
"Please listen carefully. Nobody here has threatened you. Your partner has requested assistance. State police are responding. You can stop this situation from getting worse."