“Body camera.”
Grant looked down.
The indicator was active.
Harris nodded.
“Good.”
Then toward Cole.
“Yours?”
Also recording.
Cole answered:
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Before contact.”
“Good.”
Harris’s voice became very quiet.
“Because we’re going to review them immediately.”
The back gate opened.
A woman in a charcoal suit entered from the unmarked sedan.
Early forties.
Federal credentials clipped openly at her belt.
Cole stared.
Grant went pale.
The woman walked directly toward Maya.
“You all right?”
Maya nodded.
“My wrist hurts.”
The woman looked at the mark.
Then at Cole.
“Who grabbed her?”
Cole’s mouth opened.
Harris answered:
“Officer Cole.”
“And the unwanted physical contact?”
Maya nodded toward Grant.
“Him.”
The woman looked at Harris.
“I want both recordings preserved.”
“Already happening.”
Cole finally asked:
“Who are you?”
She turned.
“Special Agent Claire Dalton.”
Cole frowned.
“FBI?”
Dalton did not answer.
Instead she looked at Maya again.
“You want medical attention?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Dalton nodded.
Cole stared at Maya.
Then said slowly:
“You’re FBI?”
Maya looked at him.
“No.”
That confused him more.
Grant asked:
“Then why is the FBI here?”
Maya tightened the towel around herself.
Harris looked at both officers.
“Because Ms. Brooks is an attorney with the United States Department of Justice.”
Silence.
Cole stared.
Grant’s mouth opened.
Harris added:
“Civil Rights Division.”
Neither man moved.
Rachel looked at Maya.
Maya sighed.
“I was going to tell you about the new assignment tonight.”
Rachel stared at her.
“Seriously?”
“Bad timing.”
Rachel almost laughed.
Cole did not.
He was looking at Maya differently now.
Maya saw it immediately.
The sudden caution.
The sudden respect.
The realization that the woman he had been manhandling by the pool now had professional consequences attached to her name.
Maya looked directly at him.
“Don’t do that.”
Cole frowned.
“Do what?”
“Look at me differently now.”
Nobody spoke.
“I am exactly the same woman you grabbed five minutes ago.”
Cole’s face reddened.
“I didn’t know who you were.”
Maya stared at him.
“That is not a defense.”
The sentence landed harder than shouting would have.
She pointed toward the pool.
“You thought I was trespassing.”
Then toward Grant.
“He decided my swimsuit gave him permission to put his hands on my body.”
Grant jumped in.
“I was performing a safety check.”
Maya turned sharply.
“No.”
Her voice hardened for the first time.
“You smirked at me. You looked me up and down. You called me sweetheart. You put your hand on my waist after I specifically told you not to touch me.”