And then she was going to bury him. I am stepping out of the vehicle, Valerie said clearly, ensuring the microphones picked up her exact phrasing. I am unarmed and I am complying with your orders under duress. She opened the heavy door and stepped out into the freezing rain. The rain instantly soaked into Valerie's blazer, but she stood tall, towering over Corbin slightly in her low heels.
She crossed her hands in front of her, remaining perfectly still. Go stand by the hood of my cruiser, Corbin barked. Sure, whatever. Valerie walked back to the police car, the blue and red lights washing over her stoic face. Shaw stood a few feet away, his arms crossed against the cold.
He looked at her. And for a fleeting second, Valerie saw a flicker of guilt in the young man's eyes. "You don't have to let him do this. " Valerie said softly, her voice carrying only to Shaw over the sound of the rain. Shaw stiffened. "Ma’am, just keep quiet and cooperate.
It'll go easier. You wear that uniform to protect people, Officer Shaw. " Valerie continued, her tone conversational but piercing. "Whatever he is about to find in my car, you and I both know it isn't mine. When this goes to trial, your silence will be viewed as complicity. " Shaw swallowed hard, looking away. "I don't know what you're talking about. " Up at the Mercedes, Corbin was putting on a theatrical performance.
He shined his flashlight under the seats, in the door panels, making a show of tossing the floor mats. It was sloppy. He wasn't looking for evidence. He was looking for a hiding spot for his own. He leaned heavily into the driver's side, his upper body completely inside the vehicle.
With his right hand, he rummaged through the center console. With his left hand, the one hiding the baggie of meth, he smoothly slipped the drugs between the passenger seat and the leather armrest. He left it just visible enough to be discovered upon a second glance. Corbin backed out of the car, wiping his hands together as if disgusted. "Well, well, well. " Corbin called out, his voice dripping with triumphant malice.
He walked over to the passenger side, opened the door, and shined his light directly onto the baggy. "What do we have here? " He reached in with a gloved hand and pulled out the baggie of crystal meth, holding it up like a trophy in the rain. Shaw flinched, his eyes widening. He had been riding with Corbin long enough to know the man was dirty, to know he skimmed cash and took bribes. But planting a felony amount of narcotics on a woman who looked like an accountant?
This was a line even Shaw hadn't seen him cross so brazenly. "Looks like we found the reason you were swerving, Valerie. " Corbin sneered, walking back toward her. He dangled the baggie in front of her face. "Looks like crystal meth, a trafficking amount, too. You're looking at mandatory minimums, lady.
State penitentiary. " Valerie looked at the baggie, then looked directly into Corbin's eyes. There was no fear, no outrage, no desperate pleas of innocence. Her utter lack of panic unsettled Corbin for a microscopic fraction of a second before his ego crushed the doubt. "That does not belong to me. " Valerie stated, her voice projecting clearly for the microphones she knew were recording everything from the cruiser's dashcam as well as her own vehicle's array. "You placed that inside my vehicle, Officer Corbin. " "Oh, so I'm a dirty cop, now? " Corbin laughed, pulling his handcuffs from his belt.
"Turn around. Hands behind your back. " Valerie complied. She turned around, presenting her wrists. The cold steel ratcheted tightly around her wrists. Corbin intentionally clamped them down a notch too tight, trying to elicit a wince.
Valerie gave him nothing. "You have the right to remain silent. " Corbin recited, his breath hot and smelling of stale coffee against her neck. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. " As he read the Miranda rights, Shaw walked forward. "Mitch. " Shaw hissed, leaning in. "What are we doing?
She doesn't fit the profile. She's clean. The car is spotless. " "Shut up, Bernardo. " Corbin snapped, shoving Valerie roughly toward the backseat of the cruiser. She's a mule. They dress them up nice to fool rookies like you.
We're taking her in. Call for a tow truck to impound the Benz. We're tearing that thing apart at the yard tomorrow. Valerie was forced into the cramped hard plastic backseat of the police cruiser. The smell of vomit, cheap disinfectant, and despair permeated the air.
The rain hammered against the roof. Through the wire mesh divider, she watched Corbin and Shaw argue in hushed, angry tones outside. She felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. It wasn't the first time she had been in the back of a police car, but it was the first time she was entirely in control of the men who put her there. She adjusted her wrists slightly, feeling the pinch of the metal.
Corbin climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door. Shaw got in a moment later, staring blankly out the windshield. "You're making a colossal mistake, Officer Corbin. " Valerie said from the darkness of the backseat. Corbin looked at her through the rearview mirror, flashing a yellow, crooked grin. "The only mistake here is you getting out of bed this morning, sweetheart.
I own this city. By tomorrow morning, you'll be begging me for a plea deal just to see the sun again. " He threw the cruiser into drive and pulled away from the curb, leaving the heavy, armored Mercedes sitting alone in the rain. Its hidden cameras continued to record silently. The encrypted data stream pinging off a satellite and landing directly onto a heavily guarded server in Quantico, Virginia. The drive to the 12th District Precinct took 15 minutes.
Corbin drove aggressively, hitting potholes intentionally to bounce his prisoner around the back. Valerie braced her knees against the partition, riding out the turbulence with silent dignity. When they arrived at the precinct, a brutalist concrete structure that looked like a forgotten bunker, Corbin dragged her out of the car. He paraded her through the bullpen, wanting the other night shift cops to see his catch. Phones rang, keyboards clattered, and the air was thick with the smell of cheap takeout and exhaustion.
Captain Thomas O'Grady was standing by the booking desk, nursing a mug of tea. He was an older man, nearing retirement, wearing a tired expression that suggested he had seen too much corruption and lacked the energy to fight it anymore. "What do we have, Corbin? " O'Grady asked, looking Valerie up and down. His seasoned eyes immediately registered the mismatch. The tailored clothes, the defiant posture, the utter lack of junkie panic.