The woman’s voice stayed level. “You asked me what’s in the bags. I answered. Now you’re asking to search. That’s not the same as a sobriety check. I’m refusing consent.”
Daniels stepped forward, smiling like he’d been waiting for the fun part. “You got something to hide?”
The woman looked at Daniels, then back at Johnson. “No. But I’m not giving up my rights because you’re bored.”
Daniels’ smile dropped instantly. “Excuse me?”
Johnson’s voice went colder. “You wanna make this difficult?”
The woman didn’t raise hers. “You’re doing a checkpoint. You can run my license. If I’m free to go, I’d like to go.”
Johnson stared at her like she’d slapped him.
Then he did something petty and ugly: he tossed her license onto the seat of her motorcycle instead of handing it back.
It landed crooked, like disrespect made physical.
“Wait here,” he snapped, turning toward his patrol SUV.
The woman didn’t move. She stood beside her bike, hands at her sides, watching him with a face that gave nothing away.
Daniels leaned closer, voice low, taunting. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I live twenty minutes away,” she said.
Daniels laughed. “Yeah? Well, around here, we don’t like smart mouths.”
Behind him, a car horn blared as another driver got waved through. Johnson was at the SUV now, speaking into the radio, glancing back at her like he wanted her to squirm.
Instead, she reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out her phone.
Daniels’ eyes snapped to it. “Put that away.”
She kept her thumb on the screen. “I’m recording.”
Daniels stepped closer fast. “You can’t record us.”
She looked at him like he was a child lying badly. “Yes, I can.”
Daniels’ face reddened. “Turn it off.”
Johnson marched back, jaw tight. “What’s the problem?”
“She’s recording,” Daniels said, as if she’d pulled a gun.
Johnson’s eyes narrowed. “Turn it off.”
The woman didn’t. “I’m in public. You’re on duty. There’s no expectation of privacy.”
Johnson’s mouth curled. “Oh, you’re one of those.”
“One of what?” she asked.
Daniels laughed again, louder and meaner. “One of those ordinary women who think they’re lawyers.”
The woman’s gaze sharpened. “I didn’t say I was a lawyer.”
Johnson took a step into her space. “You want to keep that attitude, I can find reasons to keep you here all night.”
The woman’s voice didn’t change. “If you’re going to detain me, I’d like your badge number.”
Daniels barked a laugh. “Badge number—listen to her.”