She seemed uncomfortable.
Alana noticed that too.
“Has the plate been run?” Price asked.
Reeves looked at her.
“I’m handling it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
For the first time, Reeves’s certainty cracked.
Only slightly.
“I’m getting confirmation.”
Price glanced toward the Lexus.
Then toward the license in Reeves’s hand.
“What’s the plate?”
He told her.
Price walked toward her cruiser.
Reeves looked angry now.
Alana saw it.
The encounter had shifted from suspicion to ego.
That was the dangerous stage.
She knew it because she had reviewed hundreds of suppression motions and civil-rights claims involving exactly that change.
An officer made an assumption.
A civilian questioned it.
The question felt like disrespect.
The original justification weakened.
The need to maintain control grew stronger.
Alana spoke carefully.
“Officer Reeves, I’d like my identification returned.”
“You’ll get it when we’re done.”
“Am I free to leave?”
“No.”
“For what specific reason am I being detained?”
“I already told you.”
“You said possible vehicle theft.”
“Yes.”
“What facts support that suspicion?”
His expression hardened.
“You a lawyer?”
Alana almost smiled.
“In a manner of speaking.”
Reeves moved closer.
“Turn around.”
Alana’s face became completely still.
“For what reason?”
“You’re being detained.”
“I understand that is what you’re claiming. Why are you placing me in restraints?”
“Turn around.”
Sergeant Bell stepped forward.
“Daniel.”
Reeves ignored him.
“Hands behind your back.”
The man with the Mariners cap spoke from several yards away.
“She hasn’t done anything.”
Reeves snapped toward him.
“Back up!”
“I’m twenty feet away.”
“Back up!”
The witness stepped backward.
He kept filming.
Alana looked at Reeves.
“I am not resisting you.”
“Hands behind your back.”
“I want the record to be clear that I am complying and that I do not consent to this search or seizure.”
Reeves reached for her wrist.
His grip was harder than necessary.
Alana inhaled sharply.
Several people reacted.
A woman near the cart return said, “Come on, man.”
Reeves pulled Alana’s right arm behind her.
“Other hand.”
She complied.
The first cuff closed around her wrist.
Cold metal.
Then the second.
Too tight.
Alana felt the edge bite immediately into the base of her hand.
She closed her eyes for half a second.
Not from pain.
From something larger.
Humiliation.