Marissa turned sharply. Unlimited entry without oversight? That's what the paperwork says. They can come and go as needed for their investigation. Grant photographed the access authorization form, focusing on Voss's signature and the phrase "investigative necessity" written in the justification field.
The document gave the three officers permission to examine, photograph, and collect samples from the Ferrari without requiring a neutral witness or independent oversight. "This vehicle contains encrypted digital evidence," Grant told Rodriguez. "Any unauthorized access could constitute tampering with federal court proceedings. I'm filing a written demand that no officer enter this Ferrari without a neutral witness present and documented. " He handed Rodriguez an official federal preservation notice that required the facility to maintain detailed logs of every person who approached the vehicle, touched any surface, or requested access to the storage area. The form carried criminal penalties for false statements or missing documentation.
As Grant completed his photographic documentation, footsteps approached from behind the neighboring vehicles. Officer Roark emerged from between two seized trucks, his uniform rumpled and his expression hostile. He had been waiting for them. "Well, well," Roark called out, stopping just outside the storage area. "The judge finally came to visit her precious car. " Marissa faced him without stepping closer to the fence.
"Officer Roark, I assume you're here on official business? " "Just making sure everything stays secure," Roark replied with a cold smile. "You know, Judge, owning that Ferrari on paper doesn't mean you're ever going to drive it again. Evidence holds can last a real long time when there's ongoing criminal investigation. " Grant continued photographing while listening to the exchange, capturing images of the vehicle's position relative to the fence, and documenting Roark's proximity to the evidence area. "Every seizure leaves records," Marissa answered calmly. "Every access request gets logged.
Every broken seal creates documentation. Every person who touches my car becomes part of a chain of custody that federal courts will examine very carefully. " Roark's smile faded slightly. "You threatening me, Judge? " "I'm stating facts about evidence preservation, Officer Roark. Facts you should understand from your training. " Rodriguez shifted uncomfortably between them, clearly wanting the confrontation to end before his facility became associated with any impropriety. "Folks, we close in 5 minutes.
I need to secure the area. " Grant finished his final photographs and handed Rodriguez a card with his contact information. "Deputy Marshal Grant, Federal Judicial Security. Call me immediately if anyone requests access to this vehicle, or if any seal is disturbed for any reason. " As they walked back toward the gate, Roark called after them. "Enjoy the bus ride home, Judge. Hope you didn't get too attached to that Ferrari. " Marissa paused at the gate and looked back through the chain link toward her car.
The SF90 sat isolated under the harsh lights, sealed and tagged like evidence of a crime that never happened. The sight should have been infuriating, but instead, it strengthened her resolve. The impound gate closed between Marissa and the Ferrari with a loud clang that echoed across the facility. Rodriguez secured the electronic lock and activated the overnight alarm system that would log any movement or disturbance in the storage area. Grant carried away a complete photographic record documenting the Ferrari's condition, the evidence seals positions, the access authorization irregularities, and Rourke's unauthorized presence at the facility.
The Deputy Marshal's leather portfolio now contained enough preservation notices and federal forms to make any evidence tampering a federal crime with serious consequences. The conference room at Marissa's attorney's office felt cramped despite its size. Morning sunlight streamed through tall windows casting harsh shadows across the polished table where three copies of Officer Rourke's official incident report lay spread before them. Marissa had managed only scattered fragments of sleep. Her mind replaying every moment from the parking lot confrontation to Rourke's taunting words at the impound facility.
Her civil rights attorney, a sharp-eyed woman in her 50s with silver hair and an expensive suit, flipped through the pages with practiced efficiency. Grant sat across from them, his federal credentials displayed on the table beside a thick folder of photographs and preservation notices. "This report is a work of fiction," the attorney said without looking up. "Complete fiction designed to justify an unjustifiable arrest. " Marissa read Rourke's statement aloud, her voice steady despite the anger building in her chest. "Subject refused to provide identification when requested and became evasive when questioned about vehicle ownership.