“My phone is in an evidence bag Officer Selden took without logging it. My father's number is in that phone.” Brooks meets her gaze. “I'll address that.” “I'd like it returned.”
“I'll address it.” He moves to the door, pauses with his hand on the frame. The weight of the pause is different now. “Amina, I want you to understand something. Whatever happens tonight, there are people in this building trying to manage this the right way.”
“The right way,” she says, “was not bringing me in.” He leaves. The lock does not click. Just before the statutory window would have closed, the door opens. Tate holds out her phone in a clear bag, unlogged.
She takes it. Multiple missed calls from the same number. She calls it. It answers on the first ring. The voice on the other end is not panicked.
It is the steady voice of a man who has spent years in difficult situations and has learned that the people around him often need that steadiness. But beneath it, she hears something she has heard only once or twice before. The edge of a man who has decided something will be made right. “Baby, are you hurt?”
“No, sir.” “Are you in holding room two at the Route 9 substation?” “Yes, sir.” A pause. “Good girl, I'm on my way. Don't say anything else to anyone.”
“I mean anyone.” “Yes, sir.” Another pause, shorter. “I'm proud of you.” She presses her back against the wall and closes her eyes.
For the first time since the gas station, her shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. Outside, Brooks stands with Lang by the rear entrance. “Her phone was in that bag,” Lang says. “Selden didn't log it.” “I know that's a chain of custody violation.”
“If this becomes a complaint, and it already is a complaint.” Brooks runs a hand through his gray hair. “That kid has been mentally recording everything since she walked in. Every statute she cited was correct. Every procedure she named was accurate.” “She's 17, so she's sharp.”
“No,” Brooks says, “she's trained. Somebody trained her. She reacts the way someone reacts when they know exactly what documentation means and why it matters.” He pauses. “Run the father again, deeper than DMV.”
“I did. There was a DOD notation, restricted access, reroutes to a Pentagon extension.” Brooks is still for a long moment. Around the side of the building Rowe is having a different conversation. Selden's composure has developed a hairline fracture.