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."