Caleb stepped backward.
“No.”
The word surprised everyone, including Caleb.
Derek stared.
“What did you say?”
Caleb’s face was pale.
“I said no.”
His hand shook as he keyed the microphone.
“Dispatch, Unit Twelve.”
The radio crackled.
“Unit Twelve.”
“Request supervisor at Fourth and Elm.”
He looked at Harlan.
Then added:
“And notify Chief Thorpe.”
The dispatcher hesitated.
“Reason?”
Caleb looked directly at Derek.
“Officer-involved use-of-force complaint with multiple witnesses.”
Derek cursed under his breath.
Harlan leaned back into the wheelchair.
Pain throbbed beneath his ribs.
Adrenaline had masked part of it.
Now it was returning.
Lila stepped closer.
“Sir, are you hurt?”
“I’m functional.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Harlan looked at her.
For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“My back hurts.”
“Ambulance?”
“Not yet.”
Derek heard.
“See? He’s fine.”
Lila spun toward him.
“You nearly tipped him over.”
“I was moving the chair out of traffic.”
“You jerked it sideways.”
“He refused to move.”
“He dropped honey.”
Derek pointed toward her.
“You need to stay out of police business.”
She raised the phone higher.
“This became my business when you did it outside my bakery.”
Derek looked around.
Twelve people now stood nearby.
At least six were recording.
The balance had shifted completely.
He could feel it.
His old methods depended on uncertainty.
A dark road.
A blind spot.
A frightened person alone.
A report written later.
This time there were too many eyes.
Derek looked back at Harlan.
“Please.”
The word came softly.
Harlan almost did not believe he had heard it.
Derek lowered his voice.
“Can we talk?”
“We are talking.”
“Privately.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
Derek glanced toward the crowd.
“You know how these things look on video.”
Harlan stared.
“They look like what happened.”
Derek’s jaw tightened.
“I’ve got a family.”
Harlan said nothing.
“My kids.”
Still nothing.
“I had a bad day.”
Harlan’s expression hardened.
“Your bad day does not authorize you to make someone else afraid of the police.”
“I lost my temper.”
“No.”
Harlan shook his head.
“You followed a pattern.”
Derek blinked.
“What pattern?”
Harlan did not answer.
Instead, he looked toward Caleb.
“Officer Voss.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Make sure your body camera is still running.”
Caleb touched his chest instinctively.
The light was on.
“Yes.”
Derek’s own camera light was dark.
Harlan looked at it.
“So is yours.”
Derek’s hand moved toward the camera.
He stopped.
Another detail.
Another question.
Sirens approached.