“Slowly.”
“I am moving slowly.”
“Don't argue.”
Maya stopped speaking.
She opened the compartment, removed the registration and insurance card, then took her driver's license from her wallet.
Miller looked at all three.
“Maya Johnson.”
“Yes.”
“This your current address?”
“Yes.”
“This your car?”
“Yes.”
“Stay here.”
He walked back toward his patrol vehicle.
Maya watched him in the mirror.
She inhaled slowly.
Something felt wrong.
She knew enough not to assume that every traffic stop meant danger.
She also knew enough not to dismiss the feeling in her stomach.
Miller sat in his patrol car.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Then four.
Maya checked the sidewalk.
Several pedestrians walked past without paying much attention.
A man pushing a stroller stopped at the corner.
Two teenagers stood outside a coffee shop.
Everything around her continued normally.
Then another patrol car arrived.
Maya's heartbeat changed.
A younger officer stepped out.
Mid-twenties.
Dark hair.
Nervous posture.
His nameplate read:
EVANS.
Officer Miller spoke to him briefly behind the first patrol car.
Maya could not hear the conversation.
Evans glanced toward her sedan.
Then looked back at Miller.
Something in his expression bothered her.
He did not look angry.
He looked confused.
Miller returned to Maya's window.
“Step out of the vehicle.”
Maya stared at him.
“Officer, may I ask why?”
“Step out.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“We ran the plate.”
“And?”
“The vehicle was reported stolen.”
For a second Maya thought she had misunderstood him.
“I'm sorry?”
“Stolen.”
Maya looked at her steering wheel.
Then back at him.
“No. That's impossible.”
“Step out.”
“This is my car.”
“Out.”
“Officer, my name is on the registration you're holding.”
Miller's mouth tightened.
“We'll figure that out at the station.”
“At the station?”
“Get out of the car.”
Maya felt heat rise into her face.
“There has to be some mistake. Call the dealership. Check the VIN. Check my insurance policy. I've owned this car for four years.”
Miller leaned toward the window.
“I said get out.”
His voice had changed.
It was louder now.
People on the sidewalk turned.
Maya looked toward Evans.
The rookie stood several feet behind Miller.
His body camera was mounted in the center of his chest.
A small red light blinked.
Maya looked back at Miller.
“Officer, I'm cooperating.”
“No, you're talking.”
“I'm trying to explain.”
“You can explain downtown.”
Maya opened the door.
She stepped carefully onto the pavement.
Her dress shifted along the slit as she stood.
The afternoon wind moved through the street.
Miller immediately pointed toward the car.
“Turn around.”
Maya stared at him.
“What?”