"That's yours?"
"Yes."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Maya blinked.
"My name is printed on the registration."
He looked again.
"It doesn't prove you weren't using someone else's documents."
"Officer, you have my driver's license, my registration, and the vehicle identification number is on the dashboard."
"I know how to do my job."
Maya took a breath.
"I'm not questioning your ability to do your job. I'm asking you to verify the information."
He stepped closer.
"You're becoming difficult."
"No. I'm asking reasonable questions."
"Turn around."
Maya's voice became quiet.
"Why?"
"You're being detained."
"For what?"
"Possible vehicle theft."
Maya stared at him.
"This is my car."
"Turn around."
She looked at the officer's badge.
Officer Grant Mercer.
Badge number 4187.
She memorized it.
Then she turned around.
The handcuffs clicked around her wrists.
They were painfully tight.
Maya closed her eyes for one second.
She had represented people who had been arrested.
She had studied unlawful searches.
She had litigated civil rights cases.
She had watched defendants tremble in holding cells.
She had always wondered what it felt like to realize that the person controlling your freedom had already decided you were guilty.
Now she knew.
It felt like being trapped inside someone else's conclusion.
"These are too tight," she said.
"Keep walking."
"I'm cooperating."
"Then cooperate."
Maya walked toward the cruiser.
As she passed the windshield, she saw the patrol camera.
Good.
Everything was being recorded.
At least, she hoped it was.
The officer opened the rear door.
Maya stopped.
"Officer Mercer."
"What?"
"Before you put me in that car, I want you to understand something."
He looked at her.
"My name is Maya Brooks. I am a senior attorney with the Bellhaven State Legal Office."
"I heard you the first time."
"I am not asking for special treatment."
"Then get in."
"I'm asking you to follow the same procedure you would follow if you had arrested anyone else."
He smiled.
"You think your job makes you important."
"No."
Maya looked directly at him.
"I think the law is important."
His smile disappeared.
"Get in."
She did.
The door slammed.
The cruiser pulled away.
Maya watched the courthouse disappear behind her.
She had no idea that within twenty-four hours, the entire city would know her name.
And she had no idea that Officer Grant Mercer had just made the biggest mistake of his career.
At the Central District station, Maya was taken through a side entrance.
Nobody asked whether she needed medical attention.
Nobody asked whether she had been informed of the reason for her detention.
Nobody asked whether the handcuffs had caused injury.
Mercer led her into an interview room.
"Sit."
Maya sat.
He placed a folder on the table.
"You were seen entering a black sedan at 9:12."
"Mine."
"A witness reported that the vehicle had been taken earlier."
"When?"
"Approximately six this evening."