His thumb paused over the ratchet. "I can loosen the right one."
"Document the injury first, then request a supervisor and EMS over recorded radio."
Van looked toward Pike. "We can do that at the station."
"Heat injuries worsen under leather. You know that."
He loosened the cuff by one notch, but did not call anyone.
Pike climbed into the passenger seat, carrying Camille's radio and helmet. He had also removed the leather credential case from her jacket. He opened it, studied the gold sheriff's star and photo identification, then held it up for Van.
"Professional counterfeit," Pike said. "Add it to the property."
"The expiration and county seal are right," Van replied.
"Drive."
As they pulled away, a white tow truck rolled into the gas station lot with "Sloan Recovery" painted across its doors. It arrived too quickly for a normal rotation call. The driver went directly to Pike's cruiser before approaching the Harley.
Camille twisted enough to see through the rear window. Her registration remained inside the left saddlebag. The security camera above the pumps still faced the shoulder, its small red status light glowing.
"Preserve the station footage," she told Van. "Your department is now on notice."
Pike turned around. "You don't give orders in my city."
Camille met his stare through the partition. "That wasn't an order. It was a warning about evidence."
Pike faced forward and used her radio to call Asheford Communications. "Your sheriff is in custody," he said. "And if any county unit interferes with this transport, I'll treat it as obstruction."
The dispatcher did not answer immediately. When her voice returned, every trace of uncertainty was gone: "Message received. This channel is recorded."
Rain began as Van turned toward Harbor Ridge Police Headquarters. The storm Camille had been preparing for was crossing the county without her. The city dispatcher called Van's unit twice. Pike answered on the dashboard microphone both times.
"Possible vehicle theft and police impersonation," he said. "Suspect has county equipment and fraudulent credentials. Hold all verification requests until evidence is secured."
Camille leaned toward the partition. "You have already heard Asheford Communications identify me."
Pike muted the microphone. "Anything you say now goes in the arrest report."
"Then spell my name correctly."
Van's eyes met hers in the rearview mirror before dropping back to the road.
They entered through a gated vehicle bay instead of the public booking entrance. Pike led Camille into a narrow processing room where the air conditioning raised gooseflesh around the burn on her forearm. Her knee stiffened each time she tried to shift her weight.
A booking officer asked whether she required medical treatment.
"Yes," Camille said.
Pike placed the credential case and county radio on the counter. "She complained after resisting. Photograph her first."
The booking officer hesitated, then positioned Camille against a height chart. Pike stood close enough to enter every frame. He ordered her to turn left, then right, as if documenting a stranger whose identity remained unknowable.
On a nearby terminal, Van began an incident supplement. Camille could see only pieces reflected in the dark window: Initial state return clear. Local caution displayed. Driver compliant until removal.
Pike noticed her watching and stepped between them. "Caleb, conference room. Now."
The door did not close completely behind them.
"The vehicle recovery review is Monday," Pike said in a controlled whisper. "Chief Kerr needs numbers before the city manager approves the new interdiction unit. We do not throw away a high-value recovery because the rider bought convincing credentials."
"The state database did not call it stolen. The local caution flagged a cloned plate connected to a theft series. That gives us the stop."
"It appeared after I read you the clear return."
Silence followed. Then Pike's voice hardened. "You want your probation evaluation signed? Write what happened: she refused commands, reached toward her jacket, and produced suspected stolen police property. Those are facts."
"That isn't the order it happened."
Pike stepped back into the processing room carrying Van's notebook. He placed it beside his computer, but kept one palm over it.
The desk phone rang. The booking officer answered, listened, then held the receiver toward Pike: "Communications supervisor, Laya Gomez."
Pike switched the call to speaker.
"Officer Pike," Laya said, "the state vehicle return is valid and clear. Your unit added a local investigative caution afterward. I need the originating case number for the audit field."
Pike looked at Camille. "The originating case is being generated now," he said. "Officer safety information developed during surveillance."
"Your unit was not logged on a surveillance assignment."