Walter looked at the screen one last time before closing the laptop.
The incident was no longer just a series of angry memories. It had become a set of events that could be examined, checked, and compared with other records.
That did not mean the department would automatically agree with him.
It did not mean the officer would immediately return the money.
It did mean that Walter had something more substantial than his own recollection.
He looked at Daniel.
WALTER:
"What happens now?"
Daniel closed the laptop.
DANIEL REYES:
"Now we identify the department responsible for that patrol vehicle, find the proper complaint procedure, and ask that the relevant records be preserved. We should also get advice about the best way to request the return of the money."
WALTER:
"And if they refuse to investigate?"
DANIEL REYES:
"Then we'll consider the available next steps. But we start with a clear complaint and the evidence we already have. We don't need to decide the outcome before anyone has reviewed the facts."
Walter considered the answer.
He had spent much of the afternoon trying to understand why Cole had acted as though the money belonged to him. He had imagined different explanations, each more troubling than the last.
Daniel was reminding him that he did not need to solve every question immediately.
He needed to begin with what could be established.
WALTER:
"I don't want this to happen to someone else."
DANIEL REYES:
"Then the most useful thing you can do is make sure the complaint is accurate, complete, and supported by whatever evidence is available."
Walter nodded.
They returned to their vehicles and prepared to leave the parking area. Before getting into his sedan, Walter checked that his phone contained the written timeline and that the original recording remained in its designated folder.
He placed the phone in the center console and started the engine.
The afternoon was beginning to move toward evening. The light had softened, and the road beyond the parking area was quieter than it had been earlier.
Walter no longer felt the same helpless uncertainty that had followed him away from the roadside.
He was still angry.
He was still missing three thousand dollars.
And he still did not know whether the second officer had understood the full significance of what had happened.
But he now had a plan.
He would preserve the recording, gather the supporting documents, and submit a factual account through the appropriate channels. He would request that relevant footage and records be retained before they could be lost through routine deletion. He would seek advice about recovering the money and making sure that the complaint was handled properly.
He would not threaten the officer.
He would not attempt to settle the matter privately.
And he would not let the memory of Cole's smile persuade him that nothing could be done.
As Walter pulled out of the parking area, he glanced once at the camera mounted near the rearview mirror.
The small device continued recording the road ahead.
It had been purchased to document accidents and protect him from disputes over ordinary driving incidents. He had never imagined that it might become part of a complaint involving a police officer.
Yet there it was, quietly preserving the moments that had unfolded in front of it.
Walter turned onto the main road and followed the route toward home.
For the first time that day, he allowed himself to think beyond the next few minutes.
He would recover his composure.
He would gather the documents.
He would make the complaint.
And he would insist that the events of that afternoon be examined on their merits.
He did not know whether the process would be straightforward. He expected questions, delays, and perhaps resistance. He knew that a recording could be incomplete and that investigators would need to consider the full context.
But he was prepared to answer questions and provide the evidence he had.
He was not asking anyone to take his word without examination.
He was asking for the opportunity to show what had happened.
By the time Walter reached home, he had begun to separate the emotional weight of the incident from the practical steps required to address it.
He parked in his usual place, switched off the engine, and remained seated for a moment.
The house stood quietly beyond the windshield.
Everything looked exactly as it had that morning.