Callahan hesitated. "I suppose."
James nodded. "We will."
He finished by asking about Rodriguez's arrival. Callahan agreed that his partner had begun to suggest something before he interrupted her, but he said he could not remember what it was. James made no attempt to guess on her behalf. He simply told the jury that Rodriguez would explain her own words when she testified.
When the judge adjourned for lunch, Callahan left the witness stand with his chin still high. Yet Maya could see the difference in the way he walked. His first testimony had sounded like a rehearsed account of professional restraint. His answers under cross-examination had sounded like a man searching for language broad enough to conceal a very specific afternoon.
In the corridor, a reporter approached James and asked whether Maya planned to disclose her occupation. James declined to discuss a witness's future testimony. The reporter turned toward Maya, but she shook her head before he could ask another question. She had no intention of turning the case into an argument about whether she deserved special respect because of what she did for a living.
Zoe waited near the courthouse entrance with Maya's mother. She had insisted on attending part of the proceeding but agreed to leave before the testimony became too painful. When she saw Maya, she hugged her carefully to avoid pressing against her tender knees. "He sounded like he believed himself," she whispered.
Maya looked toward the closed courtroom doors. "Sometimes that's what makes a false account persuasive," she said. "The person repeating it stops listening to anything that doesn't fit."
"Will they believe you?"
Maya took her daughter's hand. "They're going to see the evidence. Then they'll decide."
On the second day, Maya took the witness stand wearing a simple navy suit and a thin gold watch her mother had given her after graduation. She did not wear the watch to impress anybody; it was familiar, and she needed familiar things. The courtroom seemed larger from the witness chair, the distance between the jury and the defense table suddenly more noticeable. She kept her hands loosely folded in her lap so that nobody would see the slight tremor in her fingers.
James began by asking where she had been going on July 14. She explained that she was returning from a work meeting, driving through Maple Ridge because it was a convenient route home. She described noticing the flashing lights, pulling to the curb, switching off her engine, lowering the window, and keeping both hands on the steering wheel. The details were ordinary, and that ordinariness was important to her.
"Why did you put your hands where the officer could see them?" James asked.
Maya looked toward the jury. "Because my parents taught me how to survive a traffic stop long before I learned to drive. Don't make sudden movements. Be respectful. Keep your hands visible. Ask permission before reaching for anything."
"Did you follow those precautions?"
"Yes."