"What do we have? " Perry Miller asked, rubbing his tired eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. Got a live one tonight, Sarge. Perry boasted, shoving Maya forward, so she stumbled against the booking counter. Maya James traffic violation turned into resisting and failure to comply.
Suspect she might be under the influence of narcotics, given her erratic behavior. Miller looked down at Ma. He saw a young, impeccably dressed black woman with terrified but defiant eyes, soaking wet, shivering from the cold. He looked at the arrest report, Perry slammed onto the counter. Any contraband found on her person?
Miller asked. "No, " Perry admitted, his jaw tightening. "But she was combative, verbally hostile, " Miller sighed. He hated these kinds of collars, contempt of cop. It meant paperwork, and it rarely held up in front of a judge.
But he wasn't going to undermine a senior officer in front of the precinct. All right, empty her pockets, take her jewelry, put her in holding cell three. As an older female officer came over to process Maya's belongings, Maya finally spoke. I am requesting my phone call, Sergeant. Perry laughed.
You'll get your call when we're good and ready, sweetie. Actually, Miller interjected, his tone mild but firm, checking Perry's ego just a fraction. Booking protocol says she gets a call once she's processed. Let her use the wall phone. Perry glared at the sergeant, but backed off.
Maya was uncuffed, her fingers numb and tingling. She walked over to the heavy metal pay phone bolted to the cinder block wall. She didn't need to look up the number. She had known it by heart since she was 7 years old. She picked up the receiver and dialed.
The phone rang twice. "Hello? " The voice on the other end was deep, grally from sleep, but instantly alert. "Dad, " Maya said, keeping her voice incredibly low, her back turned to the booking desk where Perry was loudly bragging to another cop about how he handled the situation. "It's Maya.
Maya, it's 3:15 in the morning. Are you okay? Did you have an accident? The concern in his voice was palpable. I'm fine.
I'm physically fine, but I've been arrested. There was a dead, heavy silence on the line the line for three agonizing seconds. When the voice returned, the warmth of a concerned father had vanished, replaced by the chilling, precise tone of a seasoned commander. Where are you? The fourth precinct, Southside.