“You’ll see when you get it out.”

You won’t believe what happened next…

PART 2: THE BLACK LEATHER CASE

The officer reached into my pocket and pulled out a slim black leather case.

For one second, he looked disappointed.

He had probably expected another phone.

Maybe a wallet.

Maybe something he could use as justification for what had already happened.

Instead, he held the case between two fingers.

“What is this?”

“Open it.”

His partner moved closer.

The first officer unfolded the leather.

Silence.

I watched the change happen on his face.

It began around his eyes.

The irritation disappeared first.

Then the confidence.

Then the color.

His gaze moved from the identification card to me.

Then back to the identification card.

His partner leaned over his shoulder.

“What?”

No answer.

“What is it?”

Then he saw my photograph.

The government insignia.

My name.

My title.

My assignment to the internal oversight unit responsible for reviewing misconduct complaints involving highway patrol personnel.

The second officer stopped breathing for what felt like several seconds.

Then he whispered, “Wait.”

The first officer said nothing.

The second one looked at me.

“You’re an investigator?”

The road suddenly seemed very quiet.

I slowly turned my head.

“I asked both of you to identify yourselves.”

Neither answered.

The first officer continued staring at my credentials.

It was strange how quickly a uniform could stop looking powerful when the person wearing it realized that authority worked in more than one direction.

“We can explain,” he said.

His voice had changed.

The roughness was gone.

“Then start by removing these handcuffs.”

The second officer moved immediately.

His hands shook enough that he missed the keyhole on the first attempt.

“Hold still.”

I almost laughed at that.

Instead, I said, “I am holding still.”

The first cuff opened.

Then the second.

I brought my arms forward slowly.

Red marks circled both wrists.

My right shoulder ached.

I rubbed one wrist with the other hand.

Neither officer spoke.

The tall one still held my credentials.

I didn’t ask for them back.

Not yet.

I wanted them to understand that the card wasn’t what gave me control of the situation.

Their own actions had done that.

The second officer cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, this was a misunderstanding.”

I looked at him.

“Which part?”

He blinked.

“The stop.”

“Why did you stop me?”

“We were conducting routine enforcement.”

“For what violation?”

He looked at his partner.

The tall officer finally spoke.

“We had a reason.”

“What was it?”

“We were checking vehicles in the area.”

“Why?”

He hesitated.

“General patrol.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

His jaw tightened, but he caught himself before responding the way he had five minutes earlier.

That interested me.

Fear had taught him restraint remarkably quickly.

I stepped away from the car and rolled my shoulder.

“You stopped me without stating a lawful reason. You refused to identify yourselves. When I asked questions, your behavior escalated.

When I picked up my phone, your partner opened my door and grabbed me.

You pulled me out, pressed me against my vehicle, and handcuffed me.”

“We thought you were becoming noncompliant.”

“I asked why I was stopped.”

“You were reaching for something.”

“My phone was visible.”