The first pistol came up before Camille Bennett could lower the kickstand. The second appeared in her mirror, held by an officer moving behind the Harley with both elbows locked.
"Engine off, hands where I can see them!"
Camille killed the engine. The sudden silence made the traffic on Harbor Ridge Boulevard sound unnaturally close. Heat climbed through her dark jeans from the motorcycle, and the weight of her black helmet narrowed the officers' voices into harsh metallic bursts.
"Get off the bike!" the younger officer ordered.
"Don't move!" the older one snapped at the same time.
Camille held both gloved hands above the handlebars. "Your commands conflict. Tell me which one you want me to follow."
The older officer advanced until she could read "Pike" on his nameplate. His gaze moved from her deep brown face behind the raised visor to the burgundy Road Glide beneath her, as though one of them had to be counterfeit.
"Bike came back stolen," he said. "Step off, slowly."
Camille knew that was impossible. She had renewed the registration herself three weeks earlier, after Jordan teased her for keeping every service receipt in a waterproof folder. Still, she swung her right leg over and planted both boots on the pavement.
"Registration is in the left saddlebag," she said. "My identification is inside my jacket. I will not reach for either without permission."
Pike's partner, Officer Caleb Van, glanced toward their cruiser. Its driver's door remained open, the mobile terminal glowing inside. For half a second, his expression changed—not surprise, but uncertainty. Pike did not look back.
"On your knees."
Weekend drivers slowed beside the gas station. Someone lifted a phone through an open passenger window. Above the pumps, a security camera pointed directly toward the shoulder. Camille lowered herself carefully.
"My name is Camille Bennett. I'm the elected sheriff of Asheford County. Verify that before this goes any further."
Pike gave a short laugh. "And I'm the governor."
He forced her forward. Her right forearm struck the sunbaked pavement, and heat bit through the leather sleeve before she could roll away. Pike pressed a knee between her shoulder blades while Van pulled her left arm behind her.