“I have told you the truth.” “That’s your final answer?” “Yes.” His smile thinned. “You people always think confidence is enough.” Danielle’s eyes sharpened. “You people?” Mulligan shrugged. “The ones who think the rules don’t apply.” “The rules are supposed to apply to you too.” Something flickered across his face, annoyance or surprise, but he buried it quickly. “You didn’t have ID.” “It was in my purse.” “Which you say was in the car.” “It is in the car.” He tilted his head. “Maybe.”
Danielle stared at him. “Why are you refusing to verify anything?” He straightened, crossing his arms. “Because I don’t answer to suspects.” “You answer to procedure.” He laughed. “Not to you.” Danielle leaned back as far as the cuffs allowed. “You have failed to run my plates. You have failed to verify my identity. You have denied me access to property that would prove ownership. And you have now detained me based on nothing except your own assumption.” Mulligan’s expression hardened. “Careful.”
“No,” Danielle said, her voice quiet and precise. “You be careful.” He was about to respond when the younger officer from the parking lot approached again, holding a form. “What about her phone call?” he asked. Mulligan didn’t even turn. “She’ll get one when I say she gets one.” The younger officer hesitated. “It’s been a while.” Mulligan finally looked at him, irritation flaring. “Do you want to finish your shift or debate policy with me?” The younger officer fell silent and backed away.
Danielle watched the exchange closely. There it was again: not just prejudice, but pleasure. Mulligan enjoyed controlling the pace, the discomfort, the uncertainty. He enjoyed her lack of access. He enjoyed the fact that she knew the rules and still could not force him to follow them. Every minute he delayed was no longer a mistake. It was a choice.
Hours seemed to stretch without shape after that. Danielle lost track of time in the artificial light. At some point an older officer entered the room, broad-shouldered and weary-looking, with a face that suggested he had been tired for years. He glanced at Danielle, then at Mulligan. “What’s the story here?” he asked. Mulligan waved a hand. “Attempted vehicle theft. Claims she’s the state attorney.” The older officer looked back at Danielle more carefully this time. Danielle met his eyes. “Because I am.”
He didn’t respond right away. Something like recognition stirred in his expression, then flattened under caution. “Might be a good idea to run the plates,” he said at last. Mulligan snorted. “I’ll get around to it.” The older officer stood there a moment longer, then walked away without another word. Danielle felt something close to disbelief. He knew. Or suspected. Or at the very least understood enough to check. But even that was not enough to break the inertia of the room. The system protected itself first.
Finally, well after her wrists had gone numb and the back of her shoulders ached from the awkward angle of the cuffs, Mulligan sauntered toward her with exaggerated generosity. “All right,” he said. “You want your phone call? You got it.” Danielle stood when he unlocked the cuffs, flexing her swollen fingers as feeling rushed back. The small phone station sat in the corner on a metal shelf. It looked ancient, institutional, almost theatrical in its symbolism. One call. One chance to reach beyond the walls. She knew exactly who she needed.
Mulligan leaned against the doorway, arms folded. “Make it quick.” Danielle picked up the receiver and dialed from memory. It rang twice. “Mark Edwards.” His voice was crisp, distracted at first, until he recognized the silence on the line. “Danielle?” “It’s me.” A beat. “Where are you?” “At Central Precinct.” His tone changed immediately. “Why?” “I was arrested.”
There was no mistaking the silence that followed. It was not confusion. It was the sound of a man deciding how hard he was about to hit. “For what?” he asked. Danielle glanced at Mulligan, who was watching with lazy amusement. “They believe I was stealing my own car.” Mark inhaled sharply. “What?” “They refused to check the registration. They refused to verify my identity. Mulligan brought me in on assumption alone.” “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Are you alone?” “Yes.” “I’m coming now.” “Thank you.” “Don’t say anything else to anyone until I get there.” Danielle almost smiled despite herself. “Understood.”
She hung up and turned. Mulligan raised his eyebrows. “So? Who’s coming to rescue you?” “My lawyer,” Danielle said. He let out a derisive chuckle. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for somebody in cuffs.” “I’m not in cuffs anymore.” “Yet.” Danielle stepped past him and took her seat again. “You should enjoy this moment while you can.” He stared at her, caught off guard by the certainty in her voice. Then he smirked. “I’ve heard threats before.” “That wasn’t a threat,” Danielle said. “It was a warning.”