"A police department," Marcus answered.
Reigns handed back the license but did not step away. "You look like a man with somewhere important to be."
"Most people driving before six in the morning are going somewhere."
"Search takes time," Reigns said. "Impound takes longer. Could ruin a whole morning."
Marcus felt the first hard click of suspicion. "Why would there be a search?" Reigns tapped his body camera. The red light went dark.
"Battery trouble," he said.
Then he leaned into the window.
"Five hundred cash and all of that goes away."
Marcus had spent too many years interviewing suspects, victims, officers, informants, and witnesses to mistake the moment for a joke. The words were casual because they had been practiced. Reigns did not test the demand, stumble over it, or immediately retreat. He delivered it like a price from a menu.
Marcus's department-issued digital recorder sat on the passenger seat beside a notebook. He had brought it so he could dictate observations during the morning commute. Without turning his head, he lowered one hand just enough to press the record button.
"I'm sorry," Marcus said. "How much did you say?"
Reigns smiled. "Five hundred. Cash. You pay, I tell you to watch your lane, and we're both gone."
"And if I don't pay?"
The smile disappeared. "Then we do this the hard way."
He described a search. An impound. Citations. The possibility of arrest if something "turned up." He never promised to plant evidence outright, but he did not need to. His meaning was clear enough that Marcus felt anger settle into something colder.
There were moments in law enforcement when emotion was useful. Fear sharpened attention. Anger could tell you that a line had been crossed. But Marcus had built his career on the discipline of never letting emotion choose his next move.
"I'm not paying you," he said. "I do not consent to a search."
That was when Reigns opened the door.
"Out."
Marcus stepped onto the pavement, hands visible. The air smelled of wet asphalt and cold exhaust. Reigns positioned him near the rear quarter panel of the SUV and stood slightly behind his right shoulder, forcing Marcus to turn if he wanted eye contact.
"Hands where I can see them."
"They are visible."
"Don't get cute."
"I'm asking you again to identify the lawful basis for continued detention."
Reigns's jaw worked. "I observed unsafe lane movement. Your behavior is suspicious. You're refusing to cooperate."
"I provided my license, registration, and insurance. I answered your questions. I declined a search."