“I know.”
Then he asked:
“Did you record it?”
“Yes.”
Travis moved forward.
“Do not interfere with evidence.”
Alyssa pulled her phone toward her chest.
“You’re not touching my phone.”
Marcus looked at Travis.
“Officer.”
“What?”
“You should stop now.”
There was something in Marcus’s voice.
Not a threat.
Certainty.
Travis felt it.
And hated him for it.
Twelve minutes after the slap, Marcus’s own phone rang inside the Mercedes.
Travis heard it.
Marcus looked toward the open door.
“May I retrieve my phone?”
“No.”
“It has been ringing for almost a minute.”
“I said no.”
Marcus nodded.
The phone stopped.
Then rang again.
Travis watched.
Marcus did not move.
It stopped a second time.
Thirty seconds later, Travis’s department radio crackled.
Dispatch called his unit.
“Unit Twenty-Two.”
Travis answered.
“Twenty-Two.”
“Confirm location.”
“Jefferson and Lexington.”
There was a pause.
Then:
“Remain on scene.”
Travis frowned.
“I requested supervisor.”
“Confirmed.”
“Remain on scene.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
“Command notification.”
Travis looked at Marcus.
Marcus looked back.
Something shifted in Travis’s stomach.
“What command notification?”
Dispatch did not answer directly.
“Sergeant Pike and Chief Danner are responding.”
Travis stared at the radio.
Chief Danner?
The police chief did not personally respond to traffic complaints.
Not ever.
Travis looked toward Marcus.
Marcus adjusted his tie.
No smile.
No satisfaction.
That was worse.
“What did you do?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been standing here.”
“You called someone.”
“You refused to let me retrieve my phone.”
“Then who called?”
Marcus looked toward the surrounding buildings.
“Maybe somebody who watched you slap me.”
Travis turned toward Alyssa.
She lifted her phone slightly.
The delivery driver did the same.
Travis suddenly became aware of everyone.
Windows.
Pedestrians.
Phones.
Traffic.
Cameras.
He felt exposed.
Fourteen minutes after the slap, Chief Harold Danner received a call while leaving Brookhaven City Hall.
The caller was Dana Whitmore, executive director of the State Office of Law Enforcement Standards.
Her first sentence was:
“Chief, where is Marcus Reed?”
Danner stopped walking.
“What?”
“He was supposed to meet us at five.”
“I know.”
“He just missed two calls.”
Danner looked at the clock.
“He might be driving.”
Dana answered:
“Not anymore.”
Her voice had changed.
“One of our field analysts just received a video.”
Danner’s stomach tightened.
“What video?”
“Your Officer Travis Harlan.”
Silence.
Dana continued:
“He struck Marcus during a traffic stop.”
Danner stopped breathing for a moment.
“Marcus Reed?”
“Yes.”
“The Marcus Reed?”
Dana’s voice became colder.
“There is only one chief investigator scheduled to walk into your department this afternoon.”
Danner looked toward his driver.
“Jefferson Avenue.”
“Now.”
Marcus Reed had spent twenty-seven years investigating systems people preferred not to inspect.
He had begun as a prosecutor.
Then became an internal compliance attorney.
Later he moved into statewide law-enforcement standards, where he specialized in misconduct patterns that individual complaints often failed to reveal.