Within five minutes, a third police vehicle arrived.
The driver was Lieutenant Robert Hayes, a broad-shouldered man in his early fifties whose expression suggested that he had already decided the situation was an inconvenience.
He stepped out and walked directly toward Bennett.
"What do we have?"
Bennett explained the basic facts.
Hayes listened with his arms crossed.
When she finished, he glanced at David.
"Sir, did you have a disagreement with the officer?"
"I asked why he was taking my money."
"And did you raise your voice?"
"No."
"Did you refuse a lawful instruction?"
"I followed the instructions that were lawful and did not interfere with the stop."
Hayes frowned.
"That's a carefully worded answer."
"It is an accurate one."
The lieutenant looked at Bennett.
"Where is the cash?"
"Returned to Mr. Morgan."
"Returned?"
"Yes."
Hayes turned back to David.
"Sir, we take allegations of misconduct seriously, but misunderstandings do happen during traffic stops."
David nodded.
"They do."
"Officer Grant may have been attempting to establish whether the cash was connected to an offense."
"Then he should have explained that before taking it."
Hayes's expression tightened.
"That's what we're here to determine."
"Then I hope the report reflects what actually happened."
For several seconds, the lieutenant said nothing.
Then he asked, "May I see your identification?"
David handed him his driver's license.
Hayes examined it.
"David Morgan," he read. "Bellhaven address."
"Correct."
"Retired public servant?"
David looked at him.
"I believe that is what I told Officer Grant."
Hayes glanced up.
Something about the name seemed familiar, but he could not place it.
He handed the license back.
"Do you intend to file a formal complaint?"
"Yes."
"That will involve paperwork, interviews, and potentially a lengthy review."
"I understand."
"You may be asked to return to the department."
"I understand that, too."
Hayes looked almost disappointed that David was not becoming angry.
"Then I suggest we handle this professionally."
"That would be appreciated."
Hayes turned to Bennett.
"Get Grant's statement. Make sure the report is completed before the end of shift."
Bennett's expression remained neutral.
"I will also preserve all available recordings and metadata."
Hayes paused.
"All available recordings?"
"Yes."
"That may be unnecessary if the issue can be resolved through a statement."
"With respect, Lieutenant, I believe the recordings are relevant."
Hayes looked at her for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"Fine. Preserve them."
He returned to his vehicle.
David watched him leave.
Bennett waited until the lieutenant was gone before speaking.
"He doesn't like surprises."
"Most people don't."
"Especially surprises that create paperwork."
David placed his wallet in his jacket.
"Paperwork is not the problem."
"No?"
"No. What people write in it is the problem."
Bennett studied him.
"You sound like someone who has spent a long time investigating misconduct."
David gave her a faint smile.
"Long enough to know that the first version of a story is rarely the whole story."
She glanced toward Tyler's patrol car.
"Do you think he's done this before?"
"I don't know."
"But you suspect it."
David considered the question.
"I suspect he believed he could do it without consequences."
Bennett nodded slowly.
That was a distinction worth remembering.
She offered to arrange transportation to the station, but David declined. He wanted to retrieve his sedan and leave the roadside without creating any further complications.
Before he departed, he gave Bennett his contact information.
"One request," he said.
"What is it?"
"Do not allow this to become a question of whether I am an important person."
Bennett looked surprised.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that the officer's conduct should be examined because of what he did, not because of who I might know."
She nodded.
"I agree."
"Then make sure the same procedure would apply to someone who had no phone number to call."
Bennett did not answer immediately.
Finally, she said, "I'll do my best."
David walked back to his sedan.
The car was old but well maintained. Its interior was clean, the seats carefully covered, and a folded road map rested in the passenger-side door pocket.
He placed his wallet on the seat and checked the contents.
License.
Bank card.
Insurance card.
A small photograph of his late wife, Eleanor.
Everything appeared to be in place.
He started the engine.
Before pulling away, he looked into the rearview mirror.
Tyler Grant stood beside his patrol vehicle, speaking to Lieutenant Hayes. The officer's shoulders were tense. He gestured several times, apparently trying to explain himself.
Then Hayes said something that made Tyler stop moving.
The lieutenant pointed toward the body camera on Tyler's uniform.
Tyler looked down at it.
David could not hear the conversation.
But he knew the next question was inevitable.
Why had the camera not recorded the stop?
He placed the car in gear and pulled onto the highway.
He had recovered his money.
That was not what mattered.
What mattered was that a supervisor had asked questions, a sergeant had insisted on evidence preservation, and an incident that might otherwise have disappeared into a routine report had become a documented complaint.
Now the department had a choice.
It could investigate honestly.
Or it could protect itself.
David knew that the next few days would reveal which path Bellhaven intended to take.
He also knew that his phone might ring again.
And when it did, the story would be much bigger than seven hundred and forty dollars.