Pulled over immediately.
Engine off.
Window down.
Hands visible.
Everything ordinary.
Mercer approached from the passenger side.
“License.”
Terrence handed it over.
“Registration?”
Terrence pointed toward the glove box.
“Inside.”
“Get it.”
Terrence reached slowly.
Mercer’s hand moved toward his holster.
Terrence noticed.
Retrieved registration.
Handed it over.
Mercer looked at the name.
Then toward the rear of the pickup.
“Where are you headed?”
“Family birthday.”
“What’s in the truck?”
“Personal belongings.”
“What kind?”
“Clothes.”
“Food.”
“A cake.”
“Some work equipment.”
Mercer looked at him.
“What work?”
Terrence answered carefully.
“Federal government.”
That should have been enough.
Not because federal employment made him special.
Because the question had been answered.
Mercer kept going.
“What agency?”
Terrence looked at him.
“Is that relevant to the stop?”
Mercer’s face hardened.
“It is if I ask.”
Terrence did not answer.
Mercer took the license and registration back to his cruiser.
Seven minutes.
Then returned.
“Step out.”
Terrence looked toward him.
“For what reason?”
“Vehicle equipment issue.”
“What issue?”
“Step out.”
Terrence complied.
He stepped onto the shoulder.
Mercer immediately asked:
“You carrying anything illegal?”
“No.”
“Drugs?”
“No.”
“Weapons?”
“Lawfully secured.”
Mercer’s eyes sharpened.
“Where?”
Terrence paused.
“There is a secured firearm in a locked case behind the rear seat.”
Mercer’s entire posture changed.
“There it is.”
Terrence frowned.
“There what is?”
Mercer called Benson over.
Then ordered Terrence toward the guardrail.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Terrence obeyed.
Mercer searched the locked case.
Terrence provided the key after being ordered.
Inside was a legally owned handgun.
Secured.
Unloaded.
Permit valid.
Nothing wrong.
Mercer looked disappointed.
Then claimed he smelled marijuana.
Terrence almost laughed.
The truck had never contained marijuana.
He said:
“I do not use marijuana.”
Mercer said:
“Doesn’t mean your truck doesn’t smell like it.”
Benson glanced inside.
Terrence saw him inhale slightly.
Benson did not confirm the odor.
Mercer asked for consent to search.
Terrence refused.
That should have ended voluntary consent.
It did not.
Mercer said the odor gave probable cause.
Then began unloading the truck.
One bag.
Then another.
At first he placed items near the tailgate.
Then farther out.
Then he started throwing them.
Not searching carefully.
Performing certainty.
A shirt tossed into dirt.
Shoes kicked aside.
Gift box dropped.