"We're going to make sure there aren't weapons."
"There aren't."
"Then you've got nothing to worry about."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"I said I don't consent."
Gallagher stared at him.
For a moment, no one moved.
Hollis looked uncertain.
Meeks watched.
Daniel knew what all three body cameras would later show.
A man standing on a public sidewalk.
Hands visible.
No threatening movement.
No attempt to leave.
Campaign identification around his neck.
A tote bag on the ground.
Gallagher finally said, "Open it yourself."
Daniel considered refusing.
Then thought about the hand near Gallagher's belt.
Thought about every client who had told him, I knew I was right, but I also knew I didn't want to get arrested proving it.
He crouched slowly.
"Let me know if you want me to stop moving."
Gallagher said nothing.
Daniel opened the bag.
The first thing visible was a stack of glossy blue flyers.
DANIEL BROOKS FOR CONGRESS.
His photograph filled the upper third.
FOR ALL OF US.
Hollis picked one up.
He looked at the flyer.
Then at Daniel.
Then back at the flyer.
The resemblance was exact.
He said quietly, "Officer Gallagher."
Gallagher was speaking into his radio.
"Run the license."
Hollis waited.
Gallagher didn't look over.
Meeks did.
Her eyes moved to the flyer.
She also looked at Daniel.
Daniel noticed both.
Neither said anything.
That silence mattered later.
Hollis continued checking the tote.
Clipboards.
Pens.
Volunteer maps.
Campaign buttons.
Water bottle.
Nothing else.
Daniel stood again.
"My identity is printed on what you're holding."
Gallagher looked toward him.
"We're waiting for confirmation."
"Confirmation of what?"
"Your license."
"It's a valid state-issued license."
"We verify things."
Daniel took a breath.
Across the street, one of his own campaign signs stood in the yard of seventy-year-old Patricia Lewis.
She had placed it there three weeks earlier.
His face was twelve feet from Gallagher's patrol car.
No officer had acknowledged it.
At 9:18, dispatch returned the license.
Valid.
No warrants.
No suspensions.
Nothing.
Gallagher acknowledged.
Daniel said, "Am I free to leave now?"
Gallagher did not answer directly.
"We're still sorting out the call."
"What remains to sort out?"
"The original complaint."
"About a man trying vehicle doors."
"Correct."
"You've searched my campaign materials."
"We didn't search. You opened it."
Daniel stared at him.
Gallagher continued.
"Your license doesn't prove you weren't checking cars."
"Did anyone identify a specific vehicle?"
"We're investigating."
"Did anyone report property damage?"
"We're investigating."
Daniel's composure was beginning to cost him effort.
He felt it physically.
Shoulders tight.
Jaw locked.
Breathing deliberately slowed.
He had trained young attorneys to control their tone when judges became hostile.
Never let someone else's emotion dictate yours.
Now he repeated that instruction internally.
Renee's van turned onto Harmon Avenue.
She saw the police vehicles immediately.
Three.
Then Daniel.
Hands visible.
Bag on the ground.