The tamper seal tore inside a sheath of documents in tab folders, a sealed evidentiary envelope marked with a case identifier and an encrypted drive, small, flat, matte, the kind that costs $1,200 and looks like a thumb drive for people who work in environments where losing a thumb drive has consequences measured in careers. Calhoun flipped through the documents. Most were redacted, but the tabs were labeled and the labels to a person paying attention told a particular story. One involving asset tracking, auction records, shell company registrations, and a series of financial transactions routed through three LLC's incorporated in the state of Florida over the previous 22 months. He closed the folder.
He looked at the two women. He looked at the drive in his hand. "Obstruction," he said to Okafor, not to them. "Detain them both." Okafor reached for his cuffs.
He moved toward Nadia. The decision made, the calculation complete in his mind, reduced to a single mechanical action. Nadia turned her wrist slightly preemptively. The practice movement of someone who has seen this motion begin and knows exactly how it ends. Okafor grabbed her arm above the wrist.
She didn't struggle. She let him turn her, let him move her hands behind her back. She stood against the side of her car with her wrist secured behind her while Calhoun watched from 8 ft away, arms folded, satisfied with the architecture of this moment. Ranata made no sudden movement. Priya Holden watched from the rear of the vehicle.
She had both hands at her sides. Her expression was composed in the specific way of a person who has identified a threshold and is watching someone cross it in real time. Sharp, meanwhile, had gone back to the car. The crowbar was still in his hand. He started on the rear interior paneling, the kind of methodical destruction that is performed when someone wants to look thorough and has no idea what thorough actually requires.
He pulled the trim from the SE-pillar. He pried at the seat base. He worked with the focused efficiency of a man who has done this before and does not expect to be questioned about it. Wood veneer trim, the real thing, hand fitted, cracked and splintered under the pry bar. Leather split.
The cream colored rear seat panel came away from the door in three pieces. Ranata watched this happen. Her face was still, but she reached one hand slowly, visibly toward the inner pocket of her coat. Okafor caught the motion. "Hey."
He stepped toward her. "Hands." "I have a pen in my pocket," Ranata said. "I would like to make a note." ""You don't get to make notes."" "I am noting the time," she said. "The current destruction of vehicle interior, the officer name and badge number of everyone present."
She paused for the record. "There is no record," Okafor said. "Cameras are off. He said it with a confidence that in another circumstance might have been correct." It was not correct.