Daniels laughed louder this time. “Must be some wedding.”
The woman didn’t smile. “It is.”
Johnson flicked his eyes over her bike, lingering on the saddlebags. “Been drinking?”
“No.”
“Been using anything?” Johnson asked, already convinced the answer was yes.
“No.”
Johnson’s gum snapped. “You always this short?”
“I’m being clear,” she said.
Daniels pushed off the SUV and wandered closer, interest sharpening. “You know,” he said, voice dripping with that special kind of contempt, “most people cooperate better when they don’t act like they’re above it.”
The woman blinked once. “I’m not above it.”
Daniels tilted his head. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Johnson held the license loosely between two fingers. “Step off the bike.”
She did.
Johnson gestured toward the line painted on the road. “Walk.”
She paused, just a beat. “Is there a reason you suspect I’m impaired?”
Johnson’s eyes flashed. “Are you arguing with me?”
“I’m asking,” she said, still calm, still steady. “Because this is a checkpoint. If you’re detaining me for sobriety testing, that’s one thing. If you’re escalating beyond that, I’d like to know why.”
Daniels let out a low whistle like she’d just done a trick. “Listen to this one.”
Johnson’s face tightened. “Walk the line.”
The woman walked. Perfectly. No wobble. No sway. Boots landing straight, controlled. She could’ve balanced a glass of water on her head.
Johnson’s mouth twisted as if good performance irritated him more than failure.
“Turn around,” he said.
She turned.
“Say the alphabet,” he demanded.
She did. Clean, even, no slur.
Daniels yawned theatrically. “She’s rehearsed.”
Johnson circled her like he was searching for a crack in her composure. Then his gaze landed on her saddlebags again.
“What’s in the bags?” he asked.
“Wedding clothes,” she said. “A gift.”
Johnson stepped closer to the bike. “Open them.”
Her shoulders stayed relaxed, but her voice sharpened slightly. “No.”
Daniels chuckled. “Oh—no?”
She met Johnson’s eyes. “You’ve completed the sobriety check. If you want to search my property, you can tell me the legal basis for it, or you can ask for consent. I do not consent.”
For a second, the air felt like it got heavier. Even the traffic noise seemed to hush in anticipation.
Johnson’s nostrils flared. “You refuse a lawful order?”