Decker fumbled wildly at his belt, his hands shaking so violently he could barely unclip his keyring. He handed them to the chief, unable to speak, unable to breathe. He had just arrested, assaulted, and handcuffed the highest ranking judicial official in the entire state.
Chief Keller's hands were remarkably steady, despite the torrential fury radiating from his rigid posture. He snatched the keys from Decker's trembling fingers and shoved the young officer aside with a force that sent Decker stumbling backward onto the wet asphalt. Keller reached into the cramped rear of the cruiser, his broad shoulders blocking the rain as he carefully inserted the small key into the ratchets of the heavy steel cuffs. With two sharp clicks, the metal jaws released.
Judge Agrippa Graham slowly brought his arms forward. He did not rub his wrists, though deep, angry red indentations had already been carved into his skin, the initial bruising blossoming into a dark purple. He stepped out of the cruiser, adjusting the cuffs of his soaked charcoal suit with a slow, deliberate dignity that made the surrounding chaos feel utterly small.
He looked at the two men standing before him, the mayor of Oakridge, pale and hyperventilating, and the chief of police, whose face was a mask of sheer, unadulterated shame.
"Agrippa. My god. I am so profoundly sorry," Mayor Gable stammered, stepping forward with an umbrella that he held over the judge's head, completely ignoring the fact that his own expensive tuxedo was getting ruined by the relentless downpour. "If I had known, if we had any idea this was happening"
"The issue, Richard, is not that you didn't know it was happening to me," Agrippa said, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the sound of the rain. "The issue is that you didn't know it was happening in your city."
Chief Keller turned slowly, his eyes locking onto Decker. Decker was standing near the trunk of the cruiser, his chest heaving, the rain plastering his buzzcut to his scalp. The smugness, the aggressive swagger, the illusion of supreme authority. It had all evaporated, leaving behind a terrified hollow shell of a man who suddenly realized he was standing on a trap door that had just been pulled.
"Chief, I can explain," Decker began, his voice cracking, pitching up in panic. "He crossed the double yellow line. He was combative. He refused a lawful order.
I had to. I was securing the scene. It was a standard Terry stop."
Agrippa turned his gaze toward the officer. The look was not one of anger, nor was it vindictive. It was the clinical devastating look of a Supreme Court justice observing a blatantly perjuring witness on the stand.
"Chief Keller," Agrippa said smoothly, maintaining his perfect composure. "I highly suggest you take immediate possession of this officer's body-worn camera, as well as the dash cam footage from his vehicle. When you review it, you will find no erratic driving. You will find that Oakridge Boulevard possesses a landscaped median, not a double yellow line. You will find I was fully compliant with his demand for my license and registration."
Agrippa paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the wet street like an anvil. "Furthermore, you will hear me explicitly question his articulable suspicion for escalating the stop to a physical extraction. His response was not a legal justification, but a physical assault followed by a retaliatory arrest for entirely fabricated charges of disorderly conduct. He bypassed every constitutional safeguard your department is sworn to uphold."
Decker opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat. He looked at the mayor, whose eyes were boring into him with a hatred so pure it was almost physical. He looked at Chief Keller, who was breathing heavily through his nose, his fists clenched tight at his sides.
"Give me your weapon, Decker," Chief Keller demanded, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the force of a roaring freight train.
"Chief, please, it was a split second."
"I said, give me your weapon," Keller roared, the sound echoing off the brick facades of the wealthy neighborhood. "Hand over your sidearm, your taser, your radio, and your badge. Right now. Do not make me ask you a third time, or so help me, God. I will have the mayor arrest you myself."
With shaking hands, Decker unclipped his holster. He unclasped his duty belt, the heavy leather and steel clattering onto the trunk of the police cruiser. He unpinned the silver shield from his chest, the crown he had wielded like a bludgeon, and placed it next to the gun.
"You are suspended without pay, effective immediately, pending an internal affairs investigation and a criminal review by the district attorney," Keller said, his tone dripping with disgust. "You will not step foot in my precinct. You will not access police servers. You will walk home."
Decker swallowed hard, looking out at the dark, winding roads of Oakridge. He was miles from his own car, miles from the station. "Walk?"