“We were conducting routine enforcement.”
“For what violation?”
He looked at his partner.
The tall officer finally spoke.
“We had a reason.”
“What was it?”
“We were checking vehicles in the area.”
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“General patrol.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
His jaw tightened, but he caught himself before responding the way he had five minutes earlier.
That interested me.
Fear had taught him restraint remarkably quickly.
I stepped away from the car and rolled my shoulder.
“You stopped me without stating a lawful reason. You refused to identify yourselves. When I asked questions, your behavior escalated.
When I picked up my phone, your partner opened my door and grabbed me.
You pulled me out, pressed me against my vehicle, and handcuffed me.”
“We thought you were becoming noncompliant.”
“I asked why I was stopped.”
“You were reaching for something.”
“My phone was visible.”
“We didn’t know what you were reaching for.”
“You watched me pick it up.”
Neither man replied.
I looked toward my driver’s seat.
My phone was still lying where it had fallen.
Then I looked at the second officer.
“You told me to put the phone away before you opened the door.”
He swallowed.
The tall officer handed my credentials back.
“Look, Investigator, we made a mistake.”
I took the case.
“No.”
He stared at me.
“No?”
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
His eyes narrowed.
I slipped the credentials back into my pocket.
“A mistake is writing the wrong date on a report. A mistake is misreading a plate number.
A mistake is taking the wrong exit.”
I held up my wrists.
“This required several decisions.”
Neither spoke.
“You decided not to identify yourself. You decided not to tell me why I was stopped.
You decided that my questions were disrespectful. You decided to order me out.
You decided to interfere when I picked up my phone. You decided to use force.
Then you decided to handcuff me.”
The second officer’s mouth opened.
I raised one hand.
“I’m not finished.”
He closed it.
“You had multiple opportunities to stop.”
I paused.
“You didn’t.”
The first officer stared at me.
Something was happening behind his eyes.
Calculation.
He was no longer thinking about the roadside encounter.
He was thinking about what came next.
Reports.
Supervisors.
Body cameras.
Internal review.
His job.
His partner must have been thinking the same thing.
“Can we talk about this?” he asked.
“We are talking.”
“I mean reasonably.”
That word almost made me smile.
“Was I being unreasonable when I asked why you stopped me?”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Was I unreasonable when I asked your names?”
“No, but…”
“When I told you I wasn’t resisting?”
His eyes dropped.
The second officer stepped forward.
“We were trying to control the situation.”
“What situation?”
He had no answer.
I looked from one man to the other.
Then I reached into my left pocket.
Both officers tensed.
Interesting.
I slowly removed a small recording device.
A red light blinked near the top.
The second officer stared at it.
The tall officer whispered something under his breath.
I held the recorder between two fingers.
“This has been running since before you approached my vehicle.”
The first officer’s face changed again.
“You recorded us?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
The second officer looked toward the patrol car.
Then toward my car.
Then back at the recorder.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear.
Not fear of me.
Fear of evidence.
