"Every day," Kincaid said, and gave the papers back to nobody.
Audrey asked again for the reason she had been removed from her car. Lyman said the vehicle required inspection and ordered Kincaid to keep her near the hood. She said clearly that she did not consent to a search and that nothing in her interaction had supplied a reason to believe her car contained evidence of a crime. Lyman bent through the driver's door anyway.
Kincaid caught her upper left arm when she tried to turn and observe the search. His grip tightened until her fingers tingled. "Eyes on me," he said. "You watch me, not him."
"You're hurting me. Please loosen your hand."
"Then don't twist around."
She was not twisting. He pulled, the clasp of her earring gave way, and a round gold disc rolled onto the pavement near the front tire. Audrey looked down in immediate alarm. "My earring," she said. "It belonged to my mother. Please let me pick it up before someone drives over it."
"Don't move," Kincaid replied.
Lyman backed out of the sedan carrying nothing, looked once toward Audrey, and planted his boot beside the front tire. She heard a small crunch. His foot moved, leaving the earring flattened against the grit, and he took no notice. What happened next was so practiced that it took her a moment to recognize how tightly the movements fit together. He reached into the open door again, disappeared for several seconds, and emerged holding a beer bottle by the neck.
It was cold enough to sweat. The brown glass glittered with beads of condensation while the midday sun burned against the silver hood. A white label wrapped around the bottle and a small orange circle showed at its base, like a price sticker partly concealed by his fingers. Lyman held it up triumphantly.
"Under your seat," he said. "Still cold."
Audrey studied the glass. She could have told them about the judge's robe, the courthouse, or her right to telephone chambers. She did none of those things. Instead, she examined the physical detail that no title could change.
"Your cooler works, Deputy," she said.
Lyman's expression altered. "What was that?"
"My car sat in the sun from seven until eleven. The engine was off. The cabin was warm when I got in. That bottle is sweating as if it came out of ice a few minutes ago. A bottle left under my seat would not be cold."
"I found it where I found it," Lyman said, his face hardening. "Bobby saw me find it."
"Deputy Kincaid was holding my arm, facing away from the car. He didn't see inside it."
Kincaid looked at the bottle and then at his partner. His hesitation lasted less than a heartbeat. "I saw enough."
"Then give me a breath test right here," Audrey said. "There's a portable instrument on your belt. I will cooperate."