Good day, ma'am. Sorry. What are you doing with that car?
Um, this is my car. I live here. It's mine.
Yeah, right. We got a call that someone matching your description was breaking into a car. Can I see some ID?
What's this all about? This vehicle is mine.
That doesn't sound right.
Hands behind your back and don't say another—
Profiling me.
What's this about? I'm—
The body cam footage begins mid approach. Officer Derek Hastings walks up a concrete driveway in the Meadow Brook subdivision of Durham County, North Carolina. The neighborhood is established, well-maintained. Homes here average $450,000.
The streets are quiet on this Saturday morning. A woman stands with her back to the officer, washing a gray Mercedes GLE SUV with a garden hose. She wears a purple hoodie and black joggers. The water runs clear over the hood.
"Morning," Officer Hastings says.
She turns, slightly startled. "Good morning."
"What are you doing with this vehicle?"
"I'm washing it. I live here."
"You live here?"
"Yes."
There's a pause. The officer shifts his stance. "We got a call about someone matching your description trying to break into a car on this street."
Her expression changes: confusion, then clarity. "Break into a car? I'm washing my own car in my own driveway."
"Can I see some identification?"
She sets down the hose and reaches into her hoodie pocket. She pulls out a driver's license and hands it to the officer. He examines it. The body cam zooms slightly as he reads aloud: "Kendra Thompson, 1847 Laurelwood Drive."
"That's this address," she says calmly.
He doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he flips the license over, then looks back at her. "What do you do for work?"
"I'm an assistant state attorney, Durham County District Attorney's Office."
The officer pauses. He looks at the license again, then back at her. "You got the registration for this vehicle?"
"It's inside. Do you need me to get it?"
"Yeah."
She walks toward the house. The officer remains on the driveway. He radios dispatch, but the audio is unclear on the footage. The body cam captures the house number clearly: 1847. The mailbox reads Thompson.
She returns with a registration card and an insurance document. Both list her name. The vehicle identification number matches the Mercedes in the driveway.
Officer Hastings reviews the documents without speaking. Then he hands them back.
So she says, "What was the actual complaint?"
"Like I said, someone called about a woman trying to get into a car on this street."
"Yes. What address?"
"I don't have that in front of me."
"But you came to my house."
"You matched the description."
"What description?"
He doesn't answer directly. Instead, he shifts his weight and says, "Look, I know your kind of people like to make a scene, but I'm just doing my job."
There's a silence.