Mercer watched her.
She bent down and picked it up.
The corner had been scratched.
She wiped the pavement dust away with her thumb.
Then she turned toward Mercer.
“You kicked this.”
“I—”
“You kicked it after I told you not to touch me.”
Mercer said nothing.
“You shoved me.”
Nothing.
“You tried to arrest me.”
He looked at the ground.
Naomi held up the clutch.
“And you planted evidence.”
Mercer finally looked up.
“I didn't plant anything.”
“Then you'll have no trouble explaining where it came from.”
He swallowed.
The sound of distant sirens began to rise.
Doyle looked toward the road.
Naomi didn't.
She already knew.
Two black SUVs appeared at the far intersection.
They moved quickly but without lights.
Behind them came a dark sedan.
Mercer stared.
The first SUV stopped.
Three people stepped out.
One wore a dark suit.
Another carried a hard black case.
The third was a woman with an identification credential clipped to her belt.
She walked directly toward Naomi.
“Carter.”
“Agent Lewis.”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
Lewis looked at the bruise beginning to form along Naomi's shoulder.
Her expression changed.
“Did he do that?”
Naomi didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Lewis looked at Mercer.
Mercer immediately raised both hands.
“I didn't know who she was.”
Lewis stared at him.
“That doesn't matter.”
“I thought—”
“You thought you could put your hands on a civilian?”
Mercer looked toward Doyle.
“Doyle, tell her.”
Doyle swallowed.
“Tell her what?”
“That she resisted.”
Doyle looked at Naomi.
Then at the evidence bag.
Then at the gold clutch.
“No.”
Mercer's face collapsed.
“No?”
“She didn't resist.”
Mercer stared at him.
“She told you not to touch her.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Doyle's voice became firmer.
“You touched her anyway.”
Nobody spoke.
Lewis walked to the cruiser.
She looked at the evidence bag.
“Who logged this?”
Mercer said nothing.
“Officer?”
“I found it.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Mercer looked away.
Lewis took out her phone.
“Run the bag.”
One of the agents opened the hard case.
Inside were evidence seals, gloves, digital scanners, and a camera.
Lewis photographed the bag without touching it.
Then she photographed the cruiser.
Then Mercer's uniform.
Then the pavement.
Then the gold clutch.
Naomi watched.
“This is no longer a traffic stop,” Lewis said.
“It hasn't been for several minutes.”
The younger officer remained still.
Doyle looked at Naomi.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Why did they send that warning over the radio?”
“Because the people monitoring your dispatch channel needed Mercer to know that I was protected.”
“Protected?”
“Yes.”
“From him?”
“From anyone who thought they could make me disappear before the investigation reached them.”
Doyle's face became pale.