“Brandon. He could barely get the word out.
”“Brandon Mitchell.”
“Remember that name, Sergeant Williams, because Marcus Webb’s mother will remember it. His family will remember it.”
“And I will make sure everyone remembers why a seventeen-year-old boy bled to death on an operating table while the surgeon who could have saved him sat in handcuffs on the side of the road.”
Mitchell’s face had gone pale. Williams picked up his cell phone.
He turned away slightly. His voice was low, but Maya could hear him.
“Janice, it’s Williams. We have a situation.
Maya Richardson was just arrested. Yes, the chief’s wife.
You need to get here now.”
He hung up and looked at Mitchell and Hayes. “Neither of you move.
Neither of you leave. Neither of you say another word.”
Maya wiped her eyes. “Who did you just call?”
“Deputy Mayor Morrison. She’s been investigating this precinct for months.
Tonight you just became Exhibit A.”
Mitchell’s world was ending. He could feel it and see it, but he could not stop it.
The clock kept ticking.
Deputy Mayor Janice Morrison arrived at 11:43 p.m. She did not walk into the precinct.
She stormed in.
Black pantsuit, heels clicking like gunshots on the concrete floor. Behind her came Rebecca Walsh, the city attorney, and several reporters.
She had brought the press intentionally. Williams met her at the entrance.
“Deputy Mayor—”
“Where is she?”
“Booking area. She’s—”
Morrison was already moving. She saw Maya sitting in a chair, still in scrubs, red marks on her wrists, tear-stained face, the perfect picture of injustice.
The reporters’ cameras started clicking. Morrison knelt beside Maya and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Maya, I’m here. Are you hurt?”
Maya shook her head. “A boy died, Janice.
Marcus Webb, seventeen. He died because I was sitting in a police car.”
Morrison’s face hardened. She stood and turned to face Mitchell and Hayes.
“Which one of you made the arrest?”
Mitchell raised his hand slightly, like a child admitting he had broken something. Morrison walked toward him slowly and deliberately.
The reporters followed, cameras up. “Your name?”
“Officer Brandon Mitchell.”
“How long have you been with this department?”
“Five years.”
“Five years. Morrison pulled out her tablet and tapped the screen.
”“Officer Brandon Mitchell, badge number 2847. Let me read you something.”
“Complaint filed March 2023. Black male physician stopped outside Metro General.
No violation, no citation, just questioned for fifteen minutes. Complaint dismissed.”
She scrolled. “Complaint filed June 2023.
Black female nurse detained in hospital parking lot, asked to prove she worked there despite wearing hospital scrubs and a badge. Complaint dismissed.”
She kept going. “Complaint filed September 2023.
Black paramedic handcuffed after neighbor reported suspicious person. He was entering his own ambulance.
Complaint dismissed.”