Keller leaned closer.
“Vehicle came back suspicious.”
Maya knew immediately that was false.
“What does suspicious mean?”
“Out.”
His hand moved closer to the door handle.
Maya evaluated.
The federal surveillance team was monitoring location but not necessarily live audio yet.
She could identify herself immediately.
End it.
Maybe.
But if Keller was involved in the corruption case, watching what he did when he believed she was ordinary could matter.
That thought lasted less than a second.
She opened the door.
“I’m stepping out.”
“Hands where I can see them.”
“They are.”
She exited.
Keller’s eyes traveled over her gown.
A small contemptuous smile appeared.
“Fancy afternoon?”
Maya looked at him.
“Is that relevant?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether the car belongs to you.”
There it was.
Maya felt the old coldness settle inside her.
“It does.”
Keller laughed once.
Behind him, Doss smiled.
“You own this?”
“Yes.”
Keller looked toward Doss.
Doss whistled.
“How much these run?”
Maya said nothing.
Keller looked back.
“Registration.”
“As I told you, it’s inside.”
“Go get it.”
Maya turned toward the open door.
“Slow.”
She stopped.
“I am moving slowly.”
“Don't get an attitude.”
Maya looked over her shoulder.
“My tone has not changed.”
Keller stepped closer.
“You people always say that.”
Her body went still.
Doss looked away.
Maya turned fully.
“What people?”
Keller gave a thin smile.
“People with money.”
Maybe that was what he meant.
Maybe not.
Maya knew better than to provide him an escape route or an accusation before evidence existed.
She reached into the handbag and removed the registration envelope.
Her federal credentials were inside a separate inner compartment.
She deliberately left them there.
She handed Keller the documents.
He looked.
The registration was unquestionably in her name.
MAYA A. WILLIAMS.
Virginia address.
Insurance valid.
Keller frowned.
Doss walked closer.
“What?”
Keller angled the paper away from Maya.
Then looked at the VIN plate through the windshield.
He took his time.
Too much time.
Finally:
“This VIN doesn't look right.”
Maya’s eyebrows lifted.
“What specifically looks wrong?”
“Don't tell me how to do my job.”
“I asked a question.”
Doss crouched near the front windshield.
He stared at the VIN.
Then gave Keller a look.
Maya saw it.
A silent exchange.
Not confusion.
Coordination.
Her internal alarm sharpened.
Keller said:
“We have reason to believe this vehicle may be stolen.”