“Deputy Vance,” she said, her voice dropping into a register that was entirely devoid of fear, anger, or hesitation. “You have engaged in an unlawful arrest without reasonable suspicion, used excessive physical force against an unresisting citizen, and destroyed official state-issued documentation by throwing my registration onto the roof of my vehicle.”
Vance sneered, letting out a harsh, dry laugh that lacked any real humor. “You can tell that to the magistrate in three hours, sweetheart. Right now, you don’t tell us what we’ve done. We tell you what you’re doing.”
“Before you push me into your vehicle,” Victoria continued smoothly, ignoring his threat, “reach into my right shorts pocket. There is an item in there that you are legally required to secure and log into evidence immediately.”
Miller looked at Vance, his brow furrowing. “What’s she talking about? She got a weapon in there?”
“Watch her hands,” Vance grunted. He reached down, his thick, calloused fingers roughly shoving into the narrow right pocket of her canvas shorts. He expected to feel the outline of a pocketknife, a small canister of pepper spray, or perhaps a folded slip of paper he could use to justify a search incident to arrest.
