His mouth opened slightly.
Then closed.
He looked at Victoria.
Then back at the card.
“Ma’am…” he finally whispered.
The second officer grabbed his arm.
“What does it say?”
The first officer didn’t answer.
He simply handed him the card.
The second officer read it.
His expression changed instantly.
The confidence disappeared from his face.
“What the hell…?”
Victoria remained pressed against the car, her wrists still locked behind her back.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
Neither officer answered.
The identification card carried Victoria’s photograph.
Her full name.
Her official position.
And beneath it was an authorization level that immediately explained why the two officers had suddenly become terrified.
Victoria wasn’t an ordinary driver.
She was an investigator assigned to an internal investigation involving law-enforcement misconduct.
And there was something else.
The card wasn’t supposed to be visible.
Victoria had deliberately kept it hidden.
She had wanted to see what the officers would do when they believed nobody was watching.
The first officer swallowed hard.
“You should have told us who you were.”
Victoria looked at him.
“No.”
He blinked.
“No?”
“I shouldn’t have to reveal my position to receive basic legal treatment.”
The second officer looked toward the patrol car.
Then toward the road.
Then back at Victoria.
“How long have you been investigating us?”
Victoria smiled faintly.
“I haven’t been investigating you.”
The two men exchanged a confused look.
“Then why were you carrying that?”
Victoria looked directly into the first officer’s eyes.
“Because I was investigating someone else.”
The officer’s face tightened.
“Who?”
Victoria didn’t answer.
Instead, she asked:
“Do you remember the complaint filed against your department three months ago?”
Silence.
The second officer’s eyes widened.
“That complaint was dismissed.”
Victoria shook her head.
“No.”
“It was never dismissed.”
The two men suddenly looked nervous.
Victoria continued.
“It was transferred.”
“Transferred where?”
She paused.
“To me.”
The first officer looked down at the handcuffs around her wrists.
Then at his partner.
Then at the identification card.
He realized something terrifying.
Every word they had spoken had potentially been recorded.
Every action.
Every use of force.
Every instruction.
Every second of the detention.
Victoria had been watching them from the moment they stopped her.
But there was still one question neither officer had asked.
Why had an internal investigator been driving alone on that particular country road?
The first officer finally whispered:
“Who sent you?”
Victoria’s expression became serious.
“You really don’t want me to answer that here.”
“Why?”
“Because if I say the name out loud…”
She looked toward the patrol car.
“…you’ll understand why I let you handcuff me.”
The officers froze.
Then Victoria’s phone suddenly began ringing from inside the car.
The screen was visible through the open door.
One name appeared.
The first officer saw it.
And his entire expression changed.
Because that name belonged to the highest-ranking official in their department.
But Victoria wasn’t calling him.
He was calling Victoria.
