Camille nodded.
“Please do.”
The officers stepped aside with Diane.
Camille waited nearly ten minutes.
Nobody took the bracelet.
Nobody accused her directly.
Nobody told her she was under arrest.
Nobody explained why she was still standing there.
The humiliation came from uncertainty.
Customers continued glancing over.
Some whispered.
A woman near the perfume wall whispered to another customer, “I think she stole something.”
Camille heard every word.
That was enough.
She picked up her portfolio.
Then walked toward the door.
Diane noticed.
“Where are you going?”
“Outside.”
“You need to stay here.”
Camille stopped.
“Am I detained?”
Diane looked toward the officers.
Officer Delaney walked over.
“Ma’am, just give us another minute.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
Camille continued.
“You have a valid receipt.”
“Yes.”
“The employee confirmed the sale.”
“Yes.”
“The store has reported nothing missing.”
“Correct.”
“So am I detained?”
Delaney hesitated.
“We’re still sorting everything out.”
Camille nodded.
“That is not an answer.”
She walked through the doors.
That was how the sidewalk scene began.
Delaney followed.
Bennett came behind him.
People noticed the uniforms first.
Then Camille.
Phones appeared.
“Ms. Dawson, stop.”
Camille turned.
“Am I detained?”
Delaney looked irritated.
“I need you to stay while we finish the investigation.”
“Investigation into what?”
“The complaint.”
“A complaint is not a crime.”
Delaney’s jaw tightened.
“Watch your tone.”
Camille looked at him.
Something inside her hardened.
“No.”
The word surprised him.
“You watch yours.”
The crowd grew quieter.
Camille held the receipt up.
“You have proof that I purchased the bracelet.”
She pointed toward the boutique.
“You have the employee who sold it.”
Then she held up the shopping bag.
“You have the merchandise visible inside the store packaging.”
A woman in the crowd murmured, “She has a receipt.”
Camille continued.
“What you do not have is stolen property.”
Delaney looked toward his younger partner.
Bennett clearly agreed.
Before either officer spoke, Camille’s phone rang.
Marcus.
She answered.
“Where are you?”
“Turning onto Michigan.”
Camille looked at the boutique.
“Do you have the bank records?”
“Yes.”
“And the message from Bellanova?”
“Yes.”
“Bring everything.”
“Two minutes.”
Camille ended the call.