Encrypted access strip.
Expiration date.
Everything intact.
The officer tapped the plastic with one finger.
“These things can be made.”
The Judge felt her patience narrow.
“Then scan it.”
The employee entrance had an access terminal mounted beside the door.
One swipe.
One green light.
One answer.
The officer looked toward it.
Then back.
“You’re awfully confident.”
“I know who I am.”
The two attorneys had stopped completely now.
One quietly lifted his phone.
The Judge saw him.
She did not tell him to stop.
Evidence mattered.
The officer looked at the credential again.
“You’re telling me you’re a judge.”
“I am telling you this card can verify who I am.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
The Judge’s voice cooled.
“Yes.”
“I am a judge.”
The officer laughed.
Not loudly.
Worse.
Dismissively.
“Right.”
The Judge stared at him.
He shook his head.
“You people walk in here every week pretending you know somebody.”
The Judge’s face changed.
Barely.
“You people?”
The officer realized the phrase had landed.
Instead of correcting himself, he became more defensive.
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
She held his eyes.
“I don’t.”
The officer stepped closer.
“Don’t start.”
“I have not started anything.”
He pointed toward the public entrance.
“Go around front.”
The Judge looked at the courthouse credential still in his hand.
“Return my card.”
The officer did not.
“Go.”
“Return my credential.”
“Ma’am—”
“That card belongs to me.”
The officer stepped forward until they were less than two feet apart.
“You need to learn when a conversation is over.”
The Judge’s voice dropped.
“And you need to learn when verification has been offered.”
That did it.
His face hardened completely.
“Step back.”
The Judge did not move.
“I am standing still.”
“I said step back.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
The Judge looked directly at the blinking body camera.
Then back at him.
“That is not a legal basis.”
The officer’s jaw clenched.
“You really want to do this?”
The Judge replied:
“No.”
“That is the point.”
He reached toward her.
The Judge instinctively moved one half-step back.
The officer grabbed the front lapel of her blazer.
The two attorneys shouted at once.
“Officer!”
The Judge’s briefcase slipped from her hand.
It hit the stone step.
The clasp burst open.
Case files slid across the courthouse entrance.
White pages scattered over gray stone.
The officer tightened his grip on her blazer.
The Judge’s eyes widened.
“Take your hand off me.”
He jerked her toward him.
“Stop resisting.”
“I am not resisting.”
“Then move.”
“Let go.”
He pushed her backward.
Her shoulder struck the stone wall.
Not hard enough to injure her seriously.
Hard enough to shock her.
The back of her blazer scraped stone.
Her breath left sharply.
The attorneys moved forward.
The officer turned his head.
“Stay back!”