A silver shield caught the fluorescent light, entirely different from Miller’s local police badge.
"Agent David Hayes," the stranger said, holding the badge up. "State Bureau of Investigation. Public Integrity Unit."
Internal Affairs.
The words hung in the air like a physical weight. I had seen enough police shows to know what that meant, but seeing it in real life—seeing the way Miller’s entire body seemed to deflate—was staggering.
"You're IA," Miller whispered, the taser trembling in his hand.
"I'm the guy who hunts bad cops," Hayes corrected him. "And you, Miller, are a very bad cop."
Miller shook his head frantically, desperately trying to construct a reality where he survived this. "You IA guys sit in your offices all day. You don't know what it's like out here. She was acting suspicious! I was doing my job! You have no proof of anything!"
"No proof?" Hayes asked, raising an eyebrow. He pointed toward the convenience store behind him. "You thought the cashier was asleep in the back. You thought this was a dead zone. You didn't happen to notice the two new dome cameras installed directly under the canopy yesterday afternoon, did you?"
Miller’s head whipped around, staring up at the white ceiling of the gas station canopy. There, tucked neatly in the corners, were two black glass domes, perfectly positioned to capture every square inch of the parking lot.
"We upgraded them," Hayes said calmly. "Just for you."
Miller stumbled back another step. "You set me up."
"I didn't make you turn off your camera," Hayes said, taking a slow step forward. "I didn't make you block her car door. I didn't make you hunt women in the dark. You did that all on your own. We just finally gave you a stage where someone was watching."
Miller’s breathing became ragged. He looked at the taser in his hand, then looked at Hayes, then looked at his patrol car. He was a cornered animal, realizing the trap had already sprung.
"This is entrapment," Miller stammered. "This is illegal. I'm calling my union rep. I'm calling my supervisor."
He holstered the taser clumsily and grabbed the radio mic clipped to his shoulder.
"Dispatch, this is Officer Miller, badge 4419," Miller yelled into the mic, his eyes locked on Hayes. "I have an armed impersonator at the 5th Street gas station! Officer needs assistance! Code three! Send everyone!"
He let go of the button, a triumphant, malicious grin spreading across his pale face. "You're done, Hayes. When my guys get here, you're going face down in the concrete."
Hayes didn't react. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone again, and tapped the screen.