"Unlock the SUV," Voss ordered. "We need to take a look inside." Marcus asked what circumstances justified a search. "His driving and his behavior," Voss said. "We're not going to stand here explaining police procedure to somebody who thinks he's above it."
"I do not consent," Marcus answered. He made the statement plainly, without raising his voice. He could feel the temperature dropping as the night air gave way to dawn, and the first pale streak had appeared above the warehouse roofs. It was almost six o'clock, and his first official day in Westbridge had not yet begun.
Reigns folded his arms. "See, Sarge? This is the attitude I've been dealing with. He was ready to argue from the minute I walked up."
Voss nodded and drew closer. "You're making this harder than it needs to be, Mr. Ellison."
Marcus heard the phrase and remembered Reigns using almost the same words about the five hundred dollars. "Sergeant Voss, are you authorizing the search?" he asked. Voss looked annoyed by the specificity. "I'm authorizing an investigation. If the car has to be searched or towed, that's a decision we'll make."
"And are you authorizing my arrest?" Marcus continued. Voss's expression sharpened. "If you keep interfering, yes." Marcus slowly exhaled, understanding that the second officer had not interrupted a problem; he had joined it. The man who should have checked the facts was validating threats he had not witnessed and ignoring the accusation he had been summoned to investigate.
"Both of you should think very carefully about your next decision," Marcus said. Reigns threw back his head and laughed. "There it is, Sarge. Another threat. He thinks he can destroy our careers just by saying so."
Voss did not laugh. "Turn around," he told Marcus. "Place your hands behind your back. You're being detained while we sort this out." He looked toward the empty sidewalk with the bored assurance of someone who expected an ordinary citizen to submit without further questions. Marcus knew the next few seconds might be his last safe opportunity to prevent an unlawful arrest from escalating into a physical confrontation.
"Before anyone applies restraints," Marcus said, "I need to show you my department identification. It's in the inside pocket of my jacket, and I'll retrieve it slowly if you permit me." Reigns moved his hand near his holster. Voss watched Marcus for several seconds, then nodded once.
Marcus opened his jacket with two fingers and removed a dark leather credential case. The movement was controlled and plainly visible, every part of it exactly as he had announced. He opened the case under the light from the nearest cruiser. A gold department shield shone above an identification card bearing his photograph, full name, and rank.
"Captain Marcus Ellison," he said. "Westbridge Police Department. Effective command appointment at eight hundred hours this morning." He held the case steady while both men read it. "I am on my way to report for duty."