"No. But that patrol car sat outside our building. She saw it."
Torres did not minimize the fear. "We'll document that and notify an independent supervisor. If you receive any contact that worries you, save the messages and call the number I'm giving you. We can discuss further protections based on the actual risk."
Leah stared at the card in her hand. "I've been waiting for someone to say something useful instead of promising nothing bad can happen."
Danielle glanced at her. "You deserve facts, not promises we can't guarantee."
Leah nodded slowly. She opened the paper notebook again, showing Torres the dates when Voss had come by the station after her complaints. Some visits matched suspicious fuel transfers. Others seemed to have no connection to fuel at all. One entry recorded a remark Shaw had made after Leah called a maintenance company: I WOULD HATE FOR THIS PLACE TO LOSE ITS PERMITS. Another listed the night the cruiser idled across from her apartment.
Torres asked whether Leah had kept any messages. Leah reached into her pocket and produced her phone. There were texts from a number saved under SHAW OFFICE, brief reminders that unauthorized disclosure of station records could be punished and that officers expected cooperation. The language was careful enough to look innocuous in isolation. Paired with the recorded visits and Leah's contemporaneous notes, it told a more disturbing story.
"When I first got the job," Leah said, "I thought if I kept the place clean and treated people decently, that would be enough. Then one day an officer told me the police might not come when I called, and it changed how I looked at every car in the parking lot."
Danielle let her speak. There was no reason to interrupt a witness whose memory was finally finding its own order.
"I started watching everything," Leah continued. "The front door. The lot. The street near home. I used to hear a siren and think somebody was getting help. After a while I heard one and wondered if it was him."
She looked down, embarrassed by the admission. Torres reached across the counter and set a tissue nearby without making a performance of sympathy.
"What happened to you matters separately from the fuel fraud," Torres said. "We won't treat it as a footnote."
At 11:52 a.m., Keene approached the counter carrying a sealed envelope. She had requested copies of her own camera footage and radio traffic under her department's preservation policy, and the records officer had acknowledged the request in writing. She had also made an independent incident report noting that Voss refused her proposal to verify Danielle's identity before the detention continued.
"I think my supervisor is going to be furious," she said quietly.
"He already sounds furious," Danielle replied. "You have an obligation to record what you observed. You've done that."
Keene looked toward Shaw. "I've worked with Nolan for years. He's not a good listener, but I didn't think he was doing anything like this."