“This could be fake.”
The aggression remained in the sentence.
The confidence did not.
Derek nodded toward the credential.
“Verification information is printed there. Call the field office.”
McMillan hesitated.
Derek added, “Use dispatch.”
“I know how to verify credentials.”
“Then verify them.”
McMillan stepped away.
Instead of using the radio immediately, he removed his cell phone.
Derek noticed.
He would remember it.
McMillan moved several feet toward the rear of the Audi and dialed.
The conversation lasted less than a minute.
Derek could not hear everything.
He heard his name.
A badge number.
Then silence.
McMillan turned slightly away.
Another few seconds.
He ended the call.
When he returned, the credential wallet was still in his hand.
“They confirmed you.”
“I know.”
McMillan looked irritated by the answer.
“Why didn’t you identify yourself immediately?”
Derek stared at him.
“I asked you why you stopped me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“And my job is not what determines whether this stop was lawful.”
McMillan’s jaw tightened.
Derek continued.
“If I weren’t DEA, would anything you did before seeing that badge suddenly become acceptable?”
McMillan said nothing.
“That’s the problem.”
“I was investigating suspicious behavior.”
“What behavior?”
“You were nervous.”
Derek almost smiled.
“I was sitting with both hands on the steering wheel.”
“You were evasive.”
“I answered every question necessary to the traffic stop.”
McMillan shifted again.
“The smell might be related to your work.”
Derek blinked.
“What?”
“You work narcotics. Maybe it’s on your clothes.”
Derek looked down at the suit he had worn to a conference room all afternoon.
“My operational equipment is secured at the office.”
“I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“I don’t need the benefit of the doubt.”
Derek’s voice remained controlled, but the anger underneath it was now unmistakable.
“I need you to stop changing the story.”
McMillan glanced at his body camera.
Derek saw it.
“The taillight worked.”
No response.
“I didn’t change lanes.”
Silence.
“You haven’t identified any weaving.”
Silence.
“And now the marijuana you were certain proved I possessed drugs might be something on my clothing.”
McMillan looked away.
Derek said, “Which version are you putting in your report?”
That question altered the encounter.
McMillan stepped backward.
“You’re free to go.”
Derek stayed where he was.
“What?”
“I said you’re free to go.”
“I heard you.”
“Then leave.”
“No.”
McMillan looked genuinely surprised.
“No?”
Derek extended his hand.
“My credentials.”
McMillan gave them back.