Then he escalated.
She could have disclosed her connection to the federal investigation.
She could have told him that people in his department were being investigated.
But doing so could have jeopardized witnesses, exposed investigative details, and placed her in immediate danger.
She had no reliable way to know how he would react.
So she remained calm.
"Officer, I'm happy to cooperate with lawful instructions. Can you tell me whether I'm detained?"
Matthews stepped closer.
"Get on your knees."
The afternoon changed.
And from that moment forward, every decision he made would become part of a record he could no longer control.
The teenage boy near the basketball courts was named Ethan Brooks.
He was seventeen, a high-school senior, and had been recording his friends attempting trick shots.
His original video showed three boys laughing after one missed a long-distance shot so badly that the ball rolled beneath a bench.
Then an unfamiliar voice entered the recording.
"Get on your knees."
Ethan turned.
He saw the police officer standing over a woman beside the walking path.
At first, he assumed she had done something dangerous.
Then he listened.
She was asking whether she was detained.
The officer refused to explain.
Ethan moved closer, keeping his phone raised.
He was not particularly brave.
His hands shook.
He had grown up hearing adults tell him to stay out of trouble when police were involved.
But he had also watched videos of police misconduct and wondered why people stopped recording just when the situation became uncomfortable.
He decided not to stop.
As the officer forced the woman to kneel, Ethan moved toward a large oak tree.
The trunk partially concealed him.
His camera remained pointed at the scene.
When Matthews slapped Simone, Ethan flinched so hard that the image jerked sideways.
"Oh, my God," he whispered.
A friend grabbed his sleeve.
"Bro, don't get involved."
"I'm recording."
"He's gonna see you."
"Then he sees me."
Ethan continued.
Moments later, Matthews turned toward Simone's gym bag.
He looked over his shoulder.
Then he crouched.
From Ethan's position, the movement was unusually clear.
The officer took a small transparent packet from a compartment on his duty belt.
He held it briefly in one hand.
Then he slipped it partly beneath the gym bag.
The entire movement took only seconds.
Ethan stared at his screen.
"Did you see that?"
His friend leaned closer.
"See what?"
"He put something there."
"You sure?"
Ethan replayed the most recent portion of the recording.
The movement was visible.
He had captured it.
And suddenly, the confrontation was no longer merely an officer treating someone cruelly.