Inside the patrol cruiser, the air smelled of old leather, warm plastic, and the faint odor of coffee.
The woman sat upright in the rear seat.
Her handcuffed wrists rested comfortably in front of her. She did not struggle or repeatedly ask to be released.
Through the window, she watched Cole speaking with Price.
The two men stood near the hood of the silver sedan.
Cole was gesturing aggressively.
Price appeared to be listening.
Then Cole pointed toward the cruiser and said something that made the younger officer look away.
The woman lowered her eyes.
She knew that her next decision mattered.
She had been assigned to examine allegations involving misconduct by officers in several rural departments. Her work required patience, discretion, and a willingness to distinguish between isolated incidents and repeated patterns.
She had not intended to identify herself during the roadside encounter.
The original assignment was straightforward: review departmental records, verify evidence, and interview individuals who had submitted complaints.
But the traffic stop had become something different.
She reached for her phone only after Cole had secured her inside the vehicle and stepped away.
The device was still in her jacket pocket.
She carefully retrieved it.
The screen illuminated.
STATE POLICE β INTERNAL AFFAIRS.
The incoming call was from a number she recognized.
She answered.
"Yes?"
A calm male voice responded.
"Are you safe?"
She looked through the window.
"For now."
"Where are you?"
"Pouie County. Rural Highway Forty-Five."
There was a short silence.
"What happened?"
"I've been placed under arrest by a county deputy. The radar reading showed forty-two miles per hour in a forty-five-mile-per-hour zone."
The voice on the other end became noticeably more serious.
"An arrest?"
"Yes."
"Have you identified yourself?"
"Not yet."
Another pause.
"Do they know who you are?"
"One of them has seen the incoming call."
"Which officer?"
"Deputy Richard Cole."
She heard the faint sound of typing.
"Stay calm. Don't argue. Don't sign anything you don't understand. We're contacting the appropriate command personnel now."
"Understood."
"Is the vehicle secure?"
"It is still parked on the shoulder."
"Do you have access to the stop recording?"
"The patrol unit has cameras. The officer is also wearing a body camera."
"Good. Preserve everything."
"I intend to."
The call ended.
She placed the phone in her lap.
Outside, Cole was walking toward the cruiser.
He had noticed her speaking.
When he opened the rear door, his eyes immediately went to the phone.
"Who were you talking to?"
She looked up.
"Someone I needed to contact."
"Who?"
"That is private."
He held out his hand.
"Give me the phone."
She remained still.
"Deputy, I have not consented to a search of my personal communications."
His face tightened.
"You think saying fancy words changes anything?"
"No."
"Then hand it over."
"Please identify the legal basis for taking it."
Cole stared at her.
He was becoming increasingly irritated, and the phone call had made him suspicious.
He had seen the words on the screen.
State Police.
Internal Affairs.
Those were not words he wanted associated with a routine traffic stop.
He leaned into the vehicle.
"Who exactly did you call?"
The woman looked at him for several seconds.
"An office that handles police misconduct complaints."
Cole straightened.
"Police misconduct?"
"Yes."
He laughed, but the sound was strained.
"You think I'm worried about a complaint?"
"I didn't say that."
"People complain about officers every day. Doesn't mean anything."
"That depends on the evidence."
He closed the door.
For several seconds, he stood outside the vehicle, staring at the rear window.
Then he walked toward Price.
The younger officer was checking something on the patrol computer.
Cole leaned toward him.
"Did you see the phone?"
"Yes, sir."
"She called Internal Affairs."
Price looked up.
"State Police?"
"That's what it said."
Price became quiet.
"Do you know who she is?"
"No. That's what we're going to find out."
Cole took out his own phone.
He called the sheriff's office.
"Get Granger on the line."
A dispatcher responded.
"Is this an emergency?"
"No. I need the sheriff."
"He's in a meeting."
"Tell him it's about a traffic arrest."
The dispatcher asked for the incident number.
Cole looked toward the patrol computer.
There was no incident number yet.
He hesitated.
"Tell him it's urgent."
He ended the call.
Inside the cruiser, the woman watched him.
Her expression had not changed.
But her thoughts were moving quickly.
The call had confirmed something important.
Her colleagues were aware of the arrest.
Now the next question was whether the sheriff's department would follow its own procedures once the situation became uncomfortable.
She looked toward the camera mounted above the windshield.
"Recording active," she whispered.
She did not know whether the microphone could capture her voice.
It did not matter.
She had already learned enough.
Outside, Cole returned to the driver's seat.
He slammed the door.
Then he looked at her through the rearview mirror.
"You're going to explain exactly who you are."
She met his eyes.
"When the appropriate time comes."
His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
For the first time, Richard Cole was no longer certain he controlled the situation.
And he hated that feeling.