Professional Standards expanded the review to older complaints involving Holloway. Five previous cases appeared relevant. Three involved teenagers or young adults.
A Black seventeen-year-old named Terrence Webb had complained two years earlier that Holloway shoved him against a patrol car after he asked whether he was detained. No civilian video existed.
Holloway said Terrence became aggressive. His body camera had malfunctioned during the critical minute.
The complaint was closed as inconclusive. Investigators reopened it for pattern review, not to retroactively invent proof.
A sixteen-year-old Latino teenager named Mateo Ruiz had made a similar complaint outside a convenience store. He said Holloway treated every question as disrespect and threatened arrest when Mateo asked why he could not stand outside while waiting for his mother.
Again, no independent video. Again, supervisors accepted Holloway’s description of escalating behavior.
A third complaint involved a white adult driver. He reported that Holloway became increasingly controlling after the man repeatedly asked for the legal basis of a vehicle search.
That mattered because it suggested a broader pattern beyond race alone. Holloway appeared to interpret challenges to authority as escalation.
Race could still shape who he perceived as challenging more quickly. The evidence supported caution rather than pretending one explanation answered everything.
Raines had fewer formal complaints. His supervisory notes revealed something else. Twice, sergeants had warned him that he tended to mirror more aggressive partners instead of acting as a moderating second officer.
One evaluation said, Officer Raines should improve independent decision-making during partner-led contacts. Nothing serious followed.
Riverside showed the cost of leaving that habit uncorrected. Raines could have interrupted Holloway.
He laughed instead. Then helped write the story afterward.
The video reached social media before the department completed its first week of review. A spectator uploaded the moment Holloway broke the board and added text identifying Malik as the deputy chief’s son.
Millions of views followed. Online commentators slowed down Holloway’s expression, replayed Raines laughing, and paired the footage with the moment Marcus displayed his credentials.
People loved the reversal. Marcus did not.
At a press conference, a reporter asked whether Holloway would have behaved differently if he knew who Malik’s father was. Marcus answered, “Probably.”
The reporter asked whether that was what made the incident outrageous. Marcus shook his head.
“No.” He looked directly toward the cameras.
“If Malik’s father drove a city bus, the officer’s conduct would still require review. If his father worked at a warehouse, still true.”
Marcus paused. “My position did not create my son’s rights.”
Another reporter asked whether Holloway had simply messed with the wrong kid. Marcus’s expression changed.
“That phrase bothers me.” He folded his hands on the podium.
“There is no right teenager for an officer to shove against a tree without sufficient reason and then humiliate by deliberately destroying personal property.” The room became quiet.
“The issue is not that Officer Holloway failed to identify an important father.” Marcus continued. “The issue is what he believed he could do before any important person arrived.”
That became the quote shared most often. Malik hated becoming recognizable for several weeks.
Students stopped him at school. Some wanted photographs.
Others asked whether his father had already fired the officers. Malik usually answered, “My dad isn’t handling the case.”
That confused people. They wanted the story to be simpler.
Powerful father sees son mistreated. Powerful father destroys bad officers.
Reality moved more slowly.
Malik still had to give a recorded interview. So did Andre.
Ben produced the original phone file and agreed not to edit it until investigators completed forensic copying. Civilian witnesses described what they saw.
The woman with the stroller remembered Malik keeping both hands open. A college student remembered Holloway smiling immediately before breaking the board.
A dog walker admitted he had not seen the first contact but heard Raines laughing afterward. Details built the case.
No one witness carried all of it. Marcus preferred that.
Strong investigations rarely depend on one dramatic person remembering everything perfectly. They become reliable because separate pieces overlap.
Six weeks after the incident, the findings were released. Multiple allegations against Grant Holloway were sustained, including unjustified physical force, intentional destruction of civilian property, unprofessional conduct, failure to use reasonable de-escalation, and materially false reporting.
Scott Raines received sustained findings for unnecessary force against Andre, failure to intervene, unprofessional conduct, encouraging misconduct, and misleading reporting. The department recommended termination for both.
Neither firing occurred on the same afternoon as the viral video. Both officers received formal notice, representation, hearings, and the right to appeal under their employment agreements.
Marcus stayed out of every proceeding. Malik sometimes hated how disciplined his father remained about it.
“What if they keep their jobs?” he asked one night. Marcus was washing dishes.
“Then we look at why.” Malik frowned.
“You wouldn’t fight it?” Marcus turned toward him.
“I am already part of the reason the case exists.” He dried his hands. “If I start controlling the result too, every future officer who sees that training video gets to dismiss the lesson as a chief protecting his kid.”
Malik thought about that. “So you just trust the system?”
Marcus smiled without humor. “No.”
“I make the system show its work.” That answer sounded much more like him.
Both terminations were eventually upheld. Holloway appealed, arguing that the board destruction was a split-second safety decision and that national publicity made neutral review impossible.
The appeals panel relied primarily on recordings created before anyone knew Malik’s father was a deputy chief. That made the publicity argument weaker.
The video already existed. The false report already existed.
The shove already happened. Marcus’s arrival did not create any of those facts.
Raines’s appeal focused on his secondary role. His attorney argued he had not broken the skateboard and should not lose his career for laughing at another officer’s mistake.
The panel disagreed that laughter was the only issue. Raines had physically restrained Andre without adequate basis, supported Holloway’s escalation, failed to intervene during deliberate property destruction, and signed a misleading report.
Being second officer did not mean being second responsibility. His termination also stood.
The local prosecutor reviewed whether Holloway’s destruction of the board warranted criminal prosecution. The office ultimately resolved the property-damage allegation through a lower-level process requiring restitution and accountability measures rather than a dramatic felony case.
Malik did not care about the charging label. The board cost roughly $180.
Everyone focusing on the price missed what made the moment humiliating. Holloway broke it because he believed Malik could do nothing.
Marcus bought his son a replacement. The new deck cost more, used better trucks, and came in the exact forest-green design Malik had wanted for months.
Malik appreciated it. Then he asked his father not to throw away the broken one.
Marcus stored both pieces on a garage shelf. One Saturday, Malik found him looking at them.
“You okay?” Malik asked. Marcus smiled.
“I’m the dad. I’m supposed to ask that.”
Malik leaned against the workbench. “You keep staring at the board.”