"C-Chief Weber, sir, she was swerving, I smelled marijuana—"
"Shut your mouth!" Weber roared. "You arrogant, incompetent fool! That woman is Valerie Hastings! She is the Assistant Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation! She runs the Inspection Division! She has more federal authority in her pinky finger than our entire precinct! If she says you destroyed her car without cause, I will personally see you fitted for an orange jumpsuit! Do not speak to her! Do not look at her! You stand exactly where you are until I get there! Do you understand me?!"
"Yes, sir," Miller whispered, his voice cracking.
The phone went dead.
Miller slowly lowered the phone, handing it back to Valerie. His hand was shaking violently. The tough, aggressive cop who had swaggered up to her window half an hour ago was gone, replaced by a terrified man who had just realized he threw his career and possibly his freedom into a wood chipper.
Valerie took her phone back, slipping it into her pocket. She looked at the destroyed taillight, then at the scratched mahogany dashboard visible through the open door.
"Do you know how much a bespoke Rolls-Royce interior costs to replace, Officer Miller?" Valerie asked quietly.
Miller couldn't speak; he just shook his head.
"More than your pension," Valerie said flatly. "Now we wait."
The flashing lights multiplied exponentially as three black unmarked SUVs, a mobile command unit, and a patrol supervisor's vehicle swarmed the desolate, rain-slicked stretch of West Paces Ferry Road. The rain had slowed to a misty, oppressive drizzle, but the tension radiating through the humid air was suffocating.
Chief Harrison Weber stepped out of his command vehicle, his heavy trench coat hastily thrown over his pajamas, his face flushed with a mixture of panic and fury. Right behind him was Captain Gregory Reynolds, the feared head of Internal Affairs, carrying a specialized evidence collection kit.
Weber bypassed his own patrol officers completely, not even glancing at the flashing cruisers. He walked straight toward Valerie Hastings, extending a trembling hand. "Director Hastings, words cannot express how profoundly sorry I am. This is an absolute catastrophe."
Valerie did not shake his hand. She simply stood her ground, her arms crossed over her ruined blazer. "Save the apologies, Harrison. I don't need your remorse. I need you to look at the vehicle."