“I'm asking for the reason.”
Mason straightened.
“You don't get to question me.”
Sadie Lewis looked toward him.
“Mason—”
He raised a hand without looking at her.
“I've got it.”
Victor had heard those words before.
Not from Mason.
From complainants.
Different officers.
Different cities.
Same dynamic.
A citizen asks for an explanation.
An officer hears disrespect.
A simple encounter turns into a contest over who is allowed to speak.
Victor put the sedan in drive.
He pulled carefully into the inspection lane.
Mason followed.
Sadie watched them.
At the secondary area, Victor stopped beside a portable floodlight and lowered his window again.
Two nearby motorists stood beside their own vehicles while officers inspected trunks.
One was a Black woman with two children waiting inside an SUV.
Another was a Latino man in work clothes.
Victor noticed that too.
Mason approached.
“Step out.”
Victor looked at him.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No.”
“Am I being detained?”
“At this point, yes.”
“For what?”
Mason exhaled slowly.
“You're being evasive.”
“How?”
“Your answers.”
“I told you where I came from and where I'm going.”
“You gave me attitude.”
Victor looked directly at him.
“Officer, disagreement isn't probable cause.”
Mason's expression hardened.
Sadie had moved closer now.
“Mason, maybe just run his information and—”
“I said I've got it.”
She stopped.
Victor filed that away too.
Mason opened the driver's door.
“Step out of the vehicle.”
Victor complied.
He moved slowly and kept his hands visible.
At six feet two, Victor was taller than Mason, but he made no effort to use that physical difference.
He stepped onto the pavement.
Mason pointed toward the rear quarter panel.
“Stand there.”
Victor did.
Mason walked around him.
“Anything in the vehicle I need to know about?”
“No contraband.”
“Weapons?”
Victor paused.
There was a secured department-issued sidearm inside a locked case under the rear seat.
He had not planned to disclose his role yet.
“I have no illegal weapons.”
Mason laughed without humor.
“That's a lawyer answer.”
“It's an accurate answer.”
“You always talk like this?”
Victor looked toward the inspection lane.
“Only when I'm trying to be precise.”
That seemed to irritate Mason even more.
“Turn around.”
Victor turned.
Mason patted down the outside of his jacket.
Victor remained still.
The search was unnecessary.
He knew it.
Sadie knew it.
Mason probably knew it too.
But Victor had made a decision before arriving.
Unless Mason crossed into immediate physical danger, Victor would not reveal his identity simply to end the discomfort.
He needed to know how far the officer would go when he believed the person standing in front of him had no influence.
Mason's hand reached the inside pocket of Victor's windbreaker.
Victor turned his head slightly.
“I don't consent to a search of my personal property.”
Mason pulled out the leather cardholder anyway.
“Then you should've thought about that before acting suspicious.”
He opened it.
Inside was the courtesy card.
Dark blue.
Embossed seal.
Regional Patrol Command.
Victor saw Mason's eyes stop on it.
For half a second, the officer's expression shifted.
Not recognition.
Uncertainty.
Then suspicion returned.
“What is this?”
“A courtesy identification card.”
“I can read.”
“Then you know what it says.”
Mason held it up.
Regional Patrol Command.
The seal was printed on the front.
Victor's name appeared beneath it.
Mason looked from the card to Victor.
“You carrying police material?”
“It's mine.”
Mason gave a short laugh.
“No, it isn't.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Where'd you get it?”
“It was issued to me.”
Mason looked at the card again.
Sadie moved closer.
“Let me see that.”
Mason pulled it away from her.
“Hold on.”
Victor's tone stayed even.
“You can verify everything on that card in less than a minute.”
Mason looked at him.
“I don't need you telling me how to do my job.”
“I didn't say you did.”
“You implied it.”
“No. I told you the card can be verified.”
Mason stepped closer.
There was now less than two feet between them.
“People buy fake badges online every day.”
“That isn't a badge.”
“You know what I mean.”
Victor glanced toward Sadie.
She was studying his face now.
Not the card.
His face.
Something about him seemed familiar to her.
Victor could see it.
Mason could not.
“Officer Trent,” Victor said quietly, “I recommend you verify the identification before you make another decision.”
There it was again.
Not a threat.
Not a command.
A recommendation.
Mason heard something else entirely.
“Rank doesn't impress anybody here.”
Victor's eyes lowered briefly to the card in Mason's hand.
Then returned to his face.
“I haven't told you my rank.”
Mason hesitated.
It was only a fraction of a second.
Then his pride made the decision for him.
He gripped the card with both hands.
Sadie reacted immediately.
“Mason, don't—”
Rip.
The sound was small.
Barely audible beneath the engines and radio chatter.