Naomi looked at him.
“And you are standing inside my courtroom holding evidence that someone forged my signature.”
That stopped him.
Not for long.
He said:
“Maybe the document has formatting errors.”
Naomi almost smiled.
Three independent formatting errors.
Convenient.
Then the side door opened.
Chief Clerk Margaret Lowe entered.
Someone had clearly called her.
She crossed quickly.
“What happened?”
Naomi handed her the warrant.
Margaret read.
Her face lost color.
“Where did this come from?”
Holloway said:
“Police warrant system.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
He stared.
“What?”
“This wasn't generated by our system.”
“How do you know?”
She pointed.
“Our warrants have QR validation codes.”
Naomi had not reached that line yet.
Margaret continued:
“They became mandatory eighteen months ago.”
Holloway looked at the document.
No QR code.
Margaret pointed at the clerk certificate.
“And this initials block belongs to Jeffrey Payne.”
Keller said quietly:
“Who's that?”
Margaret looked toward him.
“He retired four years ago.”
Now even Holloway's partner looked frightened.
Naomi folded the warrant carefully.
“Detective Holloway.”
He stared at her.
“Do not leave.”
His eyes widened.
“You can't detain me.”
“I haven't.”
Naomi looked toward Samuel.
“Contact courthouse security.”
Then Margaret.
“Preserve the document.”
Then Denise.
“Freeze today's electronic docket logs.”
Holloway laughed sharply.
“You're ordering evidence manipulated now?”
Naomi's eyes turned cold.
“No.”
“I’m preventing exactly that.”
Holloway looked toward the door.
Keller noticed.
“Brent.”
“Quiet.”
That was the first time Holloway used his partner's first name.
Not Detective.
Not Officer.
Personal.
Fear had entered the room.
Naomi saw it.
Something bigger was happening.
The warrant was not merely incompetent.
It had been prepared by someone who knew old court forms.
Old seals.
Old signatures.
Old clerk names.
Someone had access to archived documents.
Enough to create something that might pass briefly in chaos.
If Holloway had rushed her into handcuffs before she read it, perhaps that was all they needed.
A photograph.
A headline.
A judge arrested for obstruction.
Credibility destroyed.
Maybe suspended temporarily.
Maybe removed from a case.
Naomi asked:
“What investigation am I supposedly obstructing?”
Holloway's answer came immediately.
“Case 24-771.”
Naomi looked toward Denise.
“Search it.”
Denise typed.
Then frowned.
“No criminal case by that number in county records.”
Holloway said:
“Police number.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Subject?”
“You're not entitled to investigative details.”
Naomi folded her arms.
“You brought an arrest warrant into my courtroom.”
His face reddened.
“You have exactly one opportunity to start explaining before courthouse security arrives.”
Holloway leaned toward her.
“This badge gives me authority to execute warrants.”
Naomi looked at the badge.
Then at him.
“Not imaginary ones.”
Keller swallowed.
“Detective.”
Holloway spun.
“What?”
Keller's voice was lower.
“Maybe we should call warrants and verify.”
Holloway stared.
“You think I didn't verify?”
Keller did not answer.
That answer was enough.
Naomi saw the dynamic.
Keller had not seen the warrant before entering.
Maybe only the top page.
Maybe Holloway told him the paperwork was valid.
Naomi asked:
“Officer Keller.”
Holloway snapped:
“Don't answer her.”
Naomi continued:
“When did you first see this warrant?”
Keller hesitated.
Holloway said:
“Thomas.”
Naomi's voice stayed calm.
“He can decide whether to answer.”
Keller looked at Holloway.
Then the warrant.
“Parking garage.”
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Did you verify it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Holloway said it came from warrants.”
Naomi nodded.
Holloway exploded:
“He works for me.”
“No.”
Naomi looked directly at him.
“He works for the department.”
Not you.
The distinction hit.
Then courthouse security entered.
Four officers.
Their supervisor, Lieutenant Marcus Reed, walked forward.
“What is going on?”
Naomi handed him nothing.
Margaret Lowe already had the warrant sealed inside a clear evidence sleeve.
Naomi said:
“These officers attempted to arrest me using a document that appears fraudulent.”
Marcus Reed looked at Holloway.
Holloway said:
“It came through authorized channels.”
Marcus asked:
“Which?”
“Central warrants.”
“Who?”
Holloway did not answer.
Marcus's expression changed.
“Detective.”
“Who?”
Finally:
“Sergeant Nolan Pierce.”
The name meant nothing to Naomi.
But it meant something to Margaret.
She looked up sharply.
Naomi noticed.
“Ms. Lowe?”
Margaret hesitated.
“Nolan Pierce has requested old warrant archives before.”
Holloway stared at her.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“For training.”
“That is what he said.”
Naomi asked:
“What archives?”
Margaret looked toward her.
“Historical paper warrant scans.”
“Why?”
“He said the department was updating warrant-service training.”
Naomi's stomach tightened.
Old forms.
Old seals.
Old clerk initials.
Exactly.
Holloway said:
“That proves nothing.”
Naomi looked at him.
“No.”
“But it tells us where to begin.”
Marcus Reed stepped closer.
“Detective Holloway, surrender your body camera and department phone.”
Holloway laughed.
“You have no authority.”
Marcus said:
“Courthouse security incident preservation.”
“Voluntary pending command response.”
Holloway's face hardened.
“No.”
Marcus nodded.
“Then don't.”
“But do not alter or delete anything.”
Holloway looked toward the doorway.
Again.
Naomi saw it.
“What are you waiting for?”
He looked back.
“What?”
“You keep checking the door.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Holloway's jaw tightened.
Then his radio crackled.
Static.
A voice:
“Unit Three-Four, status?”
Holloway reached for it.
Marcus said:
“Speaker.”
Holloway ignored him.
“Three-Four, courthouse.”
Voice:
“Package delivered?”
The room went silent.
Holloway froze.
Naomi's eyes narrowed.
Package.
Not arrest completed.
Package delivered.
Holloway pressed the radio.
“Repeat.”
No response.
Then static.
Keller looked at him.
“What package?”
Holloway stared.
Naomi understood.