He was forcing Cole to explain himself.
And Cole seemed to hate explanations.
The stranger finally lowered the phone, but he did not hang up.
Cole turned back toward me.
“License.”
My heart was pounding.
“For what?”
“Identification.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked.”
The stranger spoke again.
“Requesting identification does not establish reasonable suspicion.”
Cole spun toward him.
“One more word.”
The stranger gave the smallest nod.
“Then answer hers.”
Cole looked at me.
My knees felt weak, but I forced myself to speak.
“Am I free to leave?”
Silence.
The rainwater on the pavement reflected the cruiser lights between us.
Red.
Blue.
Red.
Blue.
“Officer,” I said again, “am I free to leave?”
Cole stepped closer.
“No.”
“Why?”
He looked toward my SUV.
And that was strange.
Not at me.
At my SUV.
Specifically, at the boxes visible through the rear window.
He stared perhaps one second too long.
Then he said, “We received a report about a suspicious vehicle.”
I blinked.
“My vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“What report?”
“Someone matching your vehicle description has been moving through this area.”
“My car has been parked here for ten minutes.”
Cole ignored that.
“License.”
The stranger’s expression had changed.
Until then, he had seemed controlled.
Now he looked intensely focused.
He asked, “What vehicle description?”
Cole’s head snapped toward him.
“You really want the cuffs, don’t you?”
The stranger did not answer.
I slowly opened my purse.
My hands were shaking.
I hated that they were shaking.
I hated that Cole could see.
I took out my driver’s license.
He grabbed it.
His eyes dropped to the name.
LENA CARTER.
Something happened.
It was tiny.
A tightening around his mouth.
A flicker in his eyes.
But it was there.
He already knew my name.
I understood that later.
At the time, I thought I imagined it.
Cole looked toward the cruiser.
“Stay here.”
He walked away carrying my license.
I turned toward the stranger.
“Who are you?”
His eyes stayed on Cole.
“Someone who doesn’t want you alone right now.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
“Do you know him?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“How?”
Before he could respond, the second officer left the cruiser and walked toward us.
He was younger than Cole, perhaps thirty.
His nameplate read RUIZ.
He looked uncomfortable.
His eyes met mine briefly.
Then he looked at the stranger.
“Sir, I need you to give us some room.”
The stranger asked, “Are you also detaining her?”
Ruiz swallowed.
“I’m asking you to step back.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Ruiz glanced over his shoulder toward Cole.
That glance told me almost everything.
He was afraid of Cole.
Maybe not physically.
But afraid.
The stranger apparently saw it too.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
Ruiz touched his nameplate almost automatically.
“Officer Mateo Ruiz.”
“Officer Ruiz, is Ms. Carter suspected of a crime?”
Ruiz’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t know.”
It was the first honest thing anyone in uniform had said to me.
Cole shouted from the cruiser.
“Ruiz.”
Mateo turned.
“Yeah?”
“Get over here.”
He went.
The stranger looked at me.
“Do not consent to a search.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“If he asks to search your car, say no clearly.”
“How did you know he was going to ask?”
He finally looked directly at me.
“Because he didn’t stop you for anything you did.”
“Then why did he stop me?”
His face changed.
Not much.
But enough.
“I’m trying to determine that.”
He was lying.
I knew it.
He already knew.
2. THE BOXES IN MY CAR
Cole returned with my license.
He did not give it back.
Instead, he held it between two fingers.
“Where are you coming from?”
“Bastrop County.”
“Where exactly?”
“My mother’s house.”
“Address?”
“Why?”
“Routine question.”
“Nothing about this feels routine.”
His eyes hardened.
“Address?”
I told him.
The stranger looked down.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that I noticed.
He recognized it.
I turned toward him.
Cole saw.
“You two know each other?”
“No,” I said.
The stranger answered at the same time.
“Not personally.”
Cole stared at him.
That wording mattered.
I could feel it.
Cole pointed at my SUV.
“What’s in the boxes?”
“My mother’s things.”
“What things?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Open the vehicle.”
The stranger said instantly:
“Do you consent to that search?”
I looked at him.
Then at Cole.
“No.”
Cole’s face darkened.
“What?”
“I don’t consent to a search.”
Cole stepped closer.
“If you don’t have anything to hide, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“My belongings are private.”
“Open the vehicle.”
“No.”
Cole lowered his voice.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
The sentence sent a chill through me.
The stranger raised his phone slightly.
Cole noticed.
“Are you recording me?”
“Yes.”
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
Cole took two steps toward him.
Ruiz moved forward instinctively.
“Cole—”
“Stay out of it.”
Ruiz stopped.
Cole pointed at the stranger.
“Last warning.”
The man in the charcoal jacket looked almost bored.
“What offense have I committed?”
“You’re obstructing an investigation.”
“What investigation?”