Calculating.
Hutchkins tossed the phone onto the hood of the cruiser.
Screen down.
It clattered against the metal.
"Fine. We'll get the authority we need. See how patient you feel waiting."
Then he moved to Terrence.
Did the same thing.
Hands rough.
Invasive.
Terrence's breathing came hard through his nose.
His fists clenched.
Then unclenched.
"Relax, big guy," Hutchkins said, patting his shoulder like they were old friends. "I'm just making sure you're not carrying anything you shouldn't be."
He found Terrence's phone.
Held it up.
"This one unlocked?"
Terrence didn't answer.
Hutchkins smiled.
Tossed it onto the cruiser beside Malcolm's.
"Two guys with locked phones. That's interesting. Real interesting."
He stepped backward.
Pulled off the gloves.
Dropped them onto the gravel.
Then he turned toward Lacader and the other two deputies.
"Every time," Hutchkins said casually.
Like he was talking about the weather.
"Every time people like this roll through town, something goes missing."
Lacader shifted his weight.
Looked at his boots.
The other two deputies didn't react.
Just stood there.
Silent witnesses.
Malcolm turned his head slightly.
"People like this?"
Hutchkins shrugged.
"You heard me."
The mask was off now.
Fully.
Completely.
This wasn't about break-ins.
Wasn't about procedure.
Wasn't about public safety.
This was about race.
About power.
About a man wearing a uniform deciding who belonged and who didn't.
Hutchkins walked to the rental car.
Crouched beside the license plate.
Ran his fingers along the frame like he expected something hidden there.
"Where'd you say you were from?" he called.
"We didn't," Malcolm answered.
Hutchkins stood and walked back toward them.
Hands on his hips.
"See, that's your problem. You've got an attitude. You think you're smart."
He stepped closer.
"I've dealt with guys like you before. You come into small towns thinking you own the place, thinking nobody's going to check you."
He leaned in until Malcolm could see sweat forming along his forehead.
Could smell stale cigarette smoke in the fabric of his uniform.
"But this is my town," Hutchkins said. "My county. And I decide who gets to walk around free and who doesn't. You understand that?"
Malcolm's voice turned cold.
"I understand you perfectly, Sergeant."
Something flickered in Hutchkins's eyes.
Anger.
Maybe recognition.
Like some part of him understood he had just crossed a line he couldn't uncross.
But he didn't back down.
He turned toward the other deputies.
"Run a full background check. Both of them. Employment history. Prior addresses. Everything."
One deputy hesitated.
"Sergeant, we already ran their IDs."
"I said run it again," Hutchkins snapped. "And this time dig deeper."
The deputy nodded and returned to his cruiser.
Hutchkins faced Malcolm and Terrence again.
"You two are going to stand right here. Don't move. Don't talk. Don't even breathe wrong. You got me?"
They didn't answer.
Minutes passed.
Then 10.
The sun climbed higher.
Sweat ran down Malcolm's back.
His arms ached.
But he didn't move.
Didn't complain.
This was the test.
This was what they had come for.
Hutchkins paced back and forth.