Because there was nothing to find.
He slammed the trunk shut and walked back toward them.
A second patrol car entered the lot.
Gravel crunched beneath its tires.
Two more deputies got out.
Now there were four officers for two unarmed men who had been eating breakfast.
Hutchkins briefed the new arrivals loudly enough for Malcolm and Terrence to hear.
"Suspicious individuals. Out-of-state plates. Uncooperative. Possible connection to recent break-ins."
None of it was true.
Not one word.
One of the new deputies, older with gray beginning at his temples, glanced toward Malcolm and Terrence.
Then back at Hutchkins.
He didn't say anything.
But his expression said plenty.
Hutchkins stepped close behind Malcolm.
Too close.
Malcolm could feel his breath against the back of his neck.
"Here's your options," Hutchkins said quietly. "I can hold you while we figure out who you really are, or you can get in your car, leave Ridgedale County, and not come back."
Malcolm turned his head just enough to make eye contact.
"We're not leaving."
Hutchkins's eyes narrowed.
"What did you say?"
"I said we're not leaving, Sergeant. We have every right to be here."
The air tightened.
Like a string pulled too hard.
Hutchkins's hand drifted toward his cuffs.
Then he stopped.
"Turn around," he said. "Both of you."
Malcolm and Terrence remained facing the cruiser.
Hands still on the hood.
The metal burned beneath their palms.
Neither moved.
"I said turn around."
Malcolm spoke without turning his head.
"Are we under arrest, Sergeant?"
"You will be if you don't do what I say."
"On what charge?"
Hutchkins stepped closer.
So close Malcolm could smell coffee on his breath.
"Obstruction. Resisting. Failure to comply. Take your pick."
Terrence's jaw flexed.
His whole body went rigid.
Malcolm could feel the tension radiating from him like heat from asphalt.
"Terrence," Malcolm said quietly.
"Easy."
Hutchkins heard it.
He stepped toward Terrence.
"Oh, so you're the hotheaded one, huh? The one who's going to do something stupid?"
Terrence didn't answer.
Didn't look at him.
Just stared straight toward the diner windows, where faces were pressed against the glass.
Hutchkins laughed.
Low.
Mean.
"Yeah. That's what I thought."
He returned to Malcolm and pulled a pair of black gloves from his belt.
Snapped them on slowly.
The sound cracked through the parking lot.
"Hands behind your back."
"For what?" Malcolm asked.
"Pat-down. Standard procedure."
"We've already complied with an unsupported detention and vehicle search. Now you want to search us, too?"
Hutchkins grabbed Malcolm's wrist and pulled it behind his back.
Malcolm's shoulder twisted.
Pain shot down his arm.
He didn't make a sound.
"I don't remember asking your opinion," Hutchkins said near his ear.
He searched Malcolm roughly.
Running his hands along his sides.
Across his clothing.
Down his legs.
Every motion unnecessarily forceful.
Designed less for officer safety than humiliation.
A reminder of who Hutchkins believed held the power.
He found Malcolm's phone.
Pulled it from his pocket.
Looked at the screen.
"This unlocked?"
"No."
"Unlock it."
"That's my personal property. You don't have the authority to search it."
Hutchkins cut him off.
"I've got every right. Unlock it or I'll assume you're hiding something."
Malcolm stared at him.
Silent.