That was true.
Commerce Park sat three miles from one of the shell-company facilities.
Mercer’s eyes changed.
Barely.
But Simone caught it.
“What business did you have there?”
“Private business.”
“What kind?”
“I’m not required to explain lawful travel to receive a traffic citation.”
Mercer leaned closer.
“You seem pretty defensive.”
“I seem like someone asking why a traffic stop has become an interview about my destination.”
His jaw shifted.
Then he walked back toward the cruiser.
Simone watched.
“Marcus.”
She spoke quietly toward the transmitter.
“I think he recognized the route.”
Marcus answered in her ear.
“Want us in?”
“Not yet.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“We’re three blocks.”
“I know.”
Mercer returned after six minutes.
He was not alone.
Deputy Ryan Keller had arrived.
That removed most of Simone’s remaining doubt.
Keller’s presence was not impossible.
A sheriff could request backup.
But Keller was already a person captured in federal surveillance related to the investigation.
The odds of him appearing randomly during this specific traffic stop were suddenly difficult to ignore.
Keller stood behind Mercer.
He looked at Simone once.
Then at the Tahoe.
His attention stayed on the vehicle too long.
Mercer handed back her license.
“Step out.”
“Why?”
“I need to search the SUV.”
There it was.
No warning.
No citation.
No request to clarify an equipment issue.
Straight to the vehicle.
Simone looked directly at him.
“Do you have a warrant?”
“No.”
“Then I do not consent to a search.”
Mercer stared.
“If you’ve got nothing to hide, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Simone almost smiled.
She had heard versions of that sentence from inexperienced officers, suspects, witnesses, politicians, executives, and occasionally television commentators.
It remained wrong every time.
“That is not how constitutional rights work.”
Keller glanced at Mercer.
The sheriff’s face tightened.
“Step out.”
Simone could have ended the performance then.
She had credentials.
A federal team nearby.
An open investigation.
Instead she asked herself the question that mattered.
Why was Mercer so desperate to search the Tahoe?
If she identified herself, he would likely stop.
Then whatever had brought him to her vehicle would disappear behind explanations.
Routine patrol.
Officer safety.
Miscommunication.
A concerned sheriff assisting a suspicious motorist encounter.
She needed to understand his intent.
So Simone opened the door.
Stepped out.
Then locked the SUV.
Mercer noticed.
“Why’d you lock it?”
“Because it’s my vehicle.”
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“No.”
“I’m making my position clear.”
She spoke slowly.
“I do not consent to any search of this vehicle.”
The hidden transmitter carried every word to Marcus Reed.
He responded quietly in her ear.
“Received.”
Mercer circled the Tahoe.
When he reached the liftgate, he pulled the handle.
Locked.