The first officer briefed him quickly: "Similar description, possibly stolen, subject refusing consent to search, subject becoming argumentative."
The older man listened. He looked at her again.
"Ma'am, I'm the sergeant. I'm the shift supervisor. I'm going to ask you to step off the motorcycle."
"I'm happy to step off the motorcycle," she said. "Can you tell me the reason?"
"There's no charge at this time. I'm asking you to step off the vehicle while we complete our investigation."
"Your officer told me the investigation was complete. Plate is clean, registration is valid, no stolen report. What remains to investigate?"
The sergeant looked at the first officer. The first officer looked at the sergeant. Something passed between them that had nothing to do with a stolen motorcycle.
"Step off the bike," the sergeant said. His tone had changed. It was not louder; it was flatter—the kind of flat that comes just before something hard.
She stepped off the motorcycle. She stood beside it, helmet in her left hand, hands visible, posture perfectly straight.
The sergeant said, "Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
She turned to face him fully. "Sergeant, I am asking you directly: what is the legal basis for this arrest?"