Police SUV Rams a Black Woman’s Car — Then Officers Blame Her and Threaten Arrest
The police SUV turned toward Danielle Brooks’s driver-side door. She pressed the horn. Neither officer looked away. The larger man behind the wheel tightened his grip. His partner pointed straight at her.
Then the SUV hit. Metal folded beside Danielle’s hip. Her window burst inward, scattering glass across her teal blouse. The seat belt caught her chest as the sedan lurched sideways and stopped against the parking curb. For a moment, she heard nothing.
Her hands were still on the wheel. Something warm ran down her wrist. Through the fractured windshield, she could see the brick business center she had left less than 5 minutes earlier. A man stood inside its glass entrance, holding the door open. Danielle reached for her door handle.
It moved. The door didn’t. The police SUV reversed, dragging its push bar free with a scraping sound that made her pull her knees together. Both front doors opened. “Stay where you are.”
The blonde officer came toward her broken window. He was broad through the shoulders, his dark uniform stretched across his chest. His partner, younger and dark-haired, walked around the front of her car. Danielle swallowed. “You hit me.”
The blonde officer glanced at the crushed door. “You should pay more attention.” “I was parked.” His partner stopped beside the hood. “Keep your voice down.”
Across the lot, the man at the entrance took a step outside. “Does she need an ambulance?” “We’re handling it,” the dark-haired officer called. The man hesitated. Danielle tried to turn toward him, but pain caught beneath her shoulder.
“Please call.” The blonde officer leaned into the window opening. “Look at me.” She went still. His nameplate read Kesler.
She looked past his shoulder toward the SUV. Its emergency lights swept blue and red across the building’s windows. “Where’s your phone?” he asked. “Why your phone, Danielle?” He knew her name.
Her eyes moved toward the center console before she could stop them. Kesler followed the glance. The dark-haired officer came closer. “Forget the phone. Tell her.”
Danielle recognized his voice. Her fingers loosened around the steering wheel. He saw it happen. “Now she remembers.” Kesler lowered his head until she could smell coffee on his breath.
“You’ve got a meeting coming up about Victor Hail.” Danielle’s mouth went dry. “Who told you that?” “You’re going to explain that you were mistaken.” A car passed on the road beyond the lot.
Danielle watched it through the windshield, willing it to turn in. It kept going. “I already told them what I saw.” The dark-haired officer rested his hand on the roof. “Then tell them you didn’t see it clearly.”
Kesler tapped the buckle door with two fingers. “This was a warning. Don’t make us come back.” From somewhere beneath the dashboard, a woman said, “Danielle, can you hear me?” Both officers stopped moving.