The gas station's lights had fully taken over from the setting sun, casting harsh fluorescent shadows across the scene. In the store window, Lorna Pike had finally turned away, perhaps realizing that her call had set in motion something larger than she had intended. The crowd's phones continued recording, capturing every moment as Rourke made a show of checking the cuffs one final time.
The fluorescent lights of the gas station canopy cast harsh shadows across Evelyn's face as she stood beside the patrol car, her wrists secured behind her back. Her handbag vibrated against the hood where Rourke had tossed it, likely Raymond wondering why she hadn't checked in. Around her, the crowd had grown to nearly twenty people, their phones raised like digital witnesses to her humiliation.
"Let's see what else you're hiding," Rourke announced, dumping the contents of her purse onto the hood. Lipstick, tissues, and her wallet clattered across the metal surface. Her phone kept buzzing.
Evelyn watched him sort through her belongings with theatrical suspicion, her mind already working several steps ahead. Twenty-three years in military intelligence had taught her to stay calm in crisis, to see opportunities others missed. While Rourke made a show of examining her chapstick for hidden compartments, she shifted her weight, angling herself toward her phone.
"These credit cards, we'll need to verify every single one," Rourke declared, spreading them across the hood. "Could all be stolen."
"Those cards match the name on my ID," Officer Halverson pointed out, his voice carrying an edge of uncertainty. "And the federal credentials look real. The watermarks, the security features."
"Could all be faked," Rourke cut him off. "You'd be amazed what criminals can do these days."
Evelyn's phone buzzed again. Rourke glanced at it with annoyance, then turned to rifle through her car's center console.
The moment his back was turned, she moved. With practiced precision, she bumped her hip against the hood, causing her phone to slide closer. Years of training let her activate the emergency protocol through the lock screen with two quick taps—a safety feature she and Raymond had set up for traveling spouses of high-ranking officers.
The signal would reach Raymond's security detail within seconds. She'd never had to use it before, but she knew exactly what would happen next: the protocol would trigger an alert showing her GPS location, the time, and a snapshot from her phone's camera, capturing the patrol car, the handcuffs, everything.
"What are you doing?" Rourke demanded, spinning back around.
"Standing exactly where you put me," Evelyn replied evenly. "Officer, you're making a mistake that will reach well beyond your local chain of command."
Rourke laughed, but there was an edge to it. "More threats? More name-dropping?" He snatched up her phone, shoving it into his pocket. "Let me guess: you know important people. They'll be very angry about this."
"I don't make threats," Evelyn said. "I'm simply stating facts."
Halverson had picked up her federal credentials again, studying them with growing concern. "Sir, these really do look authentic. The holographic seals, the security threading. This level of documentation isn't something you typically see."