He brushed dust from it.
Then handed it back.
Officer Rourke finally spoke.
“What is this?”
The woman looked at him.
“Lieutenant Harmon. Professional Standards Division.”
She showed identification.
Rourke stared.
Then at Adrian.
“You’re Internal Affairs?”
Adrian crouched and retrieved his phone from beneath the truck.
The screen had cracked along one corner.
Still working.
He answered.
“Investigator attached to Professional Standards.”
Rourke looked around.
The customers filming.
His partner.
The investigators.
The black pouch.
The money.
“Bullshit.”
Harmon’s expression did not change.
“You’re welcome to preserve that theory for your attorney.”
Rourke’s hand moved toward his vest.
The Black investigator said immediately:
“Do not touch your body camera.”
Rourke stopped.
Adrian looked at the camera.
The indicator light was on.
That was important.
Rourke had not disabled it.
Not today.
Officer Mason’s was on too.
Harmon said, “Place the handcuffs on the hood of your cruiser.”
Rourke stared at her.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Do it.”
“This was a lawful investigative detention.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Was it?”
Rourke pointed toward the money.
“He had cash concealed in a sealed bag.”
Harmon said, “Which you discovered after initiating a search.”
“He was suspicious.”
“How?”
Rourke looked around.
The answer should have been easy.
If he had one.
“He was hanging around a gas station.”
Adrian said, “Buying fuel.”
“You were evasive.”
“I answered every lawful identification question.”
“You refused to unlock your phone.”
“After you removed it without consent.”
Rourke snapped:
“Stay out of this.”
Silence.
Even Rourke seemed to hear what he had just said.
Harmon looked at Adrian.
Then back at him.
“This is precisely why Investigator Cole is part of this review.”
Rourke’s face hardened.
“Review of what?”
The Black investigator answered.
“Complaints.”
Rourke looked at him.
“What complaints?”
“Yours.”
For the first time, genuine fear entered the officer’s expression.
The investigator continued.
“Twenty-two citizen complaints in eighteen months.”
Rourke laughed once.
“Nonsense complaints.”
“Six alleging unlawful searches.”
“People lie.”
“Four alleging property taken without receipt.”
“People lose things.”
“Three alleging racial comments during stops.”
“Everybody calls everything racist now.”
Adrian watched Harmon’s eyes harden.
Rourke realized too late what he had said.
The younger officer looked at the pavement.
The investigator continued.
“Two involving cash.”
Rourke said nothing.
“And one alleging you threatened arrest after a motorist asked for a supervisor.”
Still nothing.
Harmon pointed toward the hood of the cruiser.
“Cuffs.”
Rourke placed them down.
“Duty weapon.”
He stared.
“You’re disarming me?”
“Pending administrative detention.”
“That’s not arrest.”
“No.”