“Nothing resulted in termination.”
“Why?”
“Different reasons.”
“Meaning?”
“Some couldn't be proven. Some were withdrawn. Some were ruled inconclusive.”
Danielle leaned back.
“Because there wasn't enough evidence.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the ceiling.
“That's the problem.”
Reed frowned.
“What?”
“People shouldn't have to record every second of their lives to prove that an officer abused authority.”
Reed didn't respond.
Danielle stood.
“Where is my vehicle?”
“Outside.”
“Take me back.”
“Why?”
“Because there are cameras.”
They drove to the shopping center.
The security office was small and smelled like dust and overheated electronics.
A supervisor named Marcus Hill greeted them nervously.
“Detective, we received your request.”
Danielle introduced herself.
Marcus looked at her.
Then at Reed.
Then back at Danielle.
“You're the woman from yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“I saw what happened.”
Danielle's voice softened.
“Then you know I didn't steal that car.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
“Do you have footage?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“The system automatically deletes old recordings.”
“How long?”
“Forty-eight hours.”
Reed looked at his watch.
“How much time?”
Marcus swallowed.
“About six hours.”
Danielle stepped closer.
“Then preserve everything.”
Marcus nodded.
The footage appeared on the monitor.
Danielle watched herself walk toward the SUV.
She watched the purse fall.
She watched herself bend down.
Then Officer Cole arrived.
The footage continued.
Cole spoke to her.
The audio was faint.
Marcus increased the volume.
Then the words came through.
“You people always have an explanation.”
Danielle closed her eyes.
Reed stared at the screen.
The recording continued.
Cole opened the glove compartment.
He looked directly at the registration.
He saw Danielle's name.
He closed it.
Then he put her in handcuffs.
Reed whispered,
“He knew.”
Danielle nodded.
“Yes.”
There was another detail.
A timestamp.
And behind Cole, visible for several seconds, was another man.
Gray jacket.
Dark cap.
Standing near a row of shopping carts.
Danielle pointed.
“Stop.”
Marcus froze the footage.
“Who is that?”
“No idea.”
Danielle looked at Reed.
“He was watching me before the officer arrived.”
Reed nodded.
“Then we find him.”
The anonymous caller wasn't anonymous for long.
Police dispatch records showed the call had originated from a business across the street.
The caller was Gregory Mason, owner of an upscale furniture showroom.
When Danielle and Reed entered his office, Mason immediately recognized her.
His confidence disappeared for half a second.
Then returned.
“I don't know why you're here.”
Danielle remained standing.
“You called the police.”
“I was concerned.”
“About what?”
“A suspicious situation.”
“What did you see?”
“A woman near a vehicle.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What did I do?”
Mason shifted.
“You looked nervous.”
“I dropped my purse.”
“I didn't know that.”
“You didn't ask.”
He said nothing.
Danielle placed a photograph on his desk.
It showed her beside the SUV.
“Did you see me break into the vehicle?”
“No.”
“Did you see me damage it?”
“No.”
“Did you see me attempt to drive away?”
“No.”
“Did you see me steal anything?”
“No.”
“Then what made you call the police?”
Mason stared at the photograph.
Finally he said,
“I thought something wasn't right.”
Danielle's voice became quieter.
“What didn't look right?”
He avoided her eyes.
She already knew the answer.
But she needed him to say it.