It showed Dez standing calmly with his hands open. It showed Harlan screaming, escalating, and eventually slamming Dez against the Charger.
Tyler had uploaded the video to TikTok with the caption, "Neighbor gets arrested for fixing his own car. Cop goes crazy."
Within minutes, the video had thousands of views.
By the time Harlan left the station with the K9 unit, it had crossed a million. The comments were a landslide of outrage.
Veterans recognized the tattoos. Mechanics recognized the car.
Locals recognized Officer Harlan, who apparently had a reputation for harassing teenagers at the local skate park.
One commenter wrote, "That's a 75th Ranger Regiment tattoo on his arm. This cop has no idea who he's messing with."
Another wrote, "Clear Fourth Amendment violation. No probable cause.
Lawsuit incoming."
Inside the station, the phones began to ring. First, it was local concerned citizens.
Then it was local news stations. Then CNN and Fox News producers were on the line asking for a statement regarding the Oak Haven incident.
Dez was still in Thorn's office when the dispatcher knocked on the door, looking terrified.
"Captain," she whispered, "there are news vans pulling up, and the phone lines are jammed. The mayor is on line one."
Thorn put his head in his hands. "Stall them."
Meanwhile, back at 422 Maple Ridge, Harlan pulled up in his cruiser. He had a German Shepherd in the back named Buster.
He also had a small plastic baggy in his pocket containing a gram of confiscated marijuana he'd taken off a high school kid weeks ago and never logged into evidence. It was his insurance policy.
Harlan was sweating. He knew the captain was wavering.
He needed a win. He needed to prove that Dez was a criminal.
He got out of the car. The neighborhood was quiet, but different.
People were on their porches. They were watching.
Loretta Voss was still at her window, but now she looked confused. Why were there so many cars?
Harlan walked up to the Charger.
"All right, Buster. Seek," he muttered, pulling the dog toward the car.
The dog sniffed around the tires. It wagged its tail.
It didn't signal. There were no drugs.
Harlan gritted his teeth. He looked around.
The coast seemed clear. He reached into his pocket, palming the baggy.
He pretended to stumble near the open driver's-side window of the Charger. He was about to flick the baggy onto the floor mat.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
The voice boomed from the sidewalk. Harlan jumped, dropping the baggy on the gravel driveway instead of inside the car.
He spun around. Standing there wasn't a neighbor.
It was a man in an immaculately tailored navy-blue suit holding a briefcase. Next to him was a camera crew from Channel 5 News.
Their lens pointed directly at Harlan's hand.
"Officer," the man in the suit shouted, walking up the driveway with the confidence of a shark entering a school of tuna. "Step away from the vehicle immediately."
"Who are you?" Harlan stammered, trying to cover the baggy with his boot.
"I am Harrison Lang," the man said.