Miller snapped his head toward the cruiser. “What do you mean, locked out?”
“The radio,” Davis said, leaning out the window. “I can’t change the channel. The county frequency is gone. It’s on an emergency lock.”
Miller marched over to the cruiser, grabbing the door frame and leaning his head inside to look at the center console. His eyes narrowed at the blinking red text. He stabbed a thick finger at the channel dial, twisting it violently. The numbers didn't change. He slammed his hand against the side of the radio unit.
“Cheap county garbage,” Miller muttered, though a thin sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. He pulled back out of the window and turned his glare back to Arthur.
“You hacked my radio,” Miller said, pointing a finger at Arthur’s chest. “You’re a phisher. You drive around with a jammer in that Mustang, targeting cops. Hand over the phone.”
Arthur didn't move a muscle. “The phone is private property.”
“It’s evidence of a cybercrime!” Miller barked, taking another heavy step forward, closing the distance until he was less than two feet from the older man. “Hand it over right now, or I am taking you to the ground, prosthetic or no prosthetic. Do you understand me?”
“I understand that you are scared, Deputy Miller,” Arthur said evenly.
Miller flinched as if he had been slapped. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” Arthur said. “You’re scared. Because up until two minutes ago, you thought I was just an isolated old man on a lonely stretch of highway. You saw a nice watch, and you thought you could take it, because who was I going to tell? But now, your radio is locked, your badge number has been flagged, and you are realizing that you have made a catastrophic error in judgment.”
Miller’s hand dropped toward his duty belt, his fingers brushing the grip of his taser. “I’m giving you one last warning. Hands on the hood of the car. Now.”
Inside the cruiser, Davis felt a cold spike of panic. This was escalating. If Miller tased this man, if things turned physical, Davis would be an accomplice to assault. He couldn't just sit here anymore.
Davis shoved the heavy cruiser door open and stepped out onto the gravel.
“Miller, hold on,” Davis said, holding his hands up placatingly as he walked around the front of the police car. “Let’s just take a breath. The radio said to hold position.”
Miller spun on his rookie partner, his eyes wide and furious. “Get back in the car, Davis! This suspect is interfering with county communications and resisting a lawful order. I am handling it.”
“He’s not resisting,” Davis argued weakly, his eyes darting to Arthur. The old man was just standing there, watching them both with that same cold, analytical gaze.
“I said get back in the car!” Miller roared, his hand now resting firmly on his taser.
Davis stopped in his tracks, swallowing hard, but he didn't retreat.
Arthur looked at the young deputy. For the first time, the hardness in the old man’s eyes softened just a fraction. He saw the conflict in the kid’s posture, the way his uniform hung a little too loosely on his frame, the way he was terrified but trying to do the right thing anyway.