Slater looked at the woman standing at the car with her hands folded in front of her. Her posture absolutely straight, her chin level, her expression exactly as informative as she intended it to be. He thought about the question. He thought about it for approximately 1 second before the momentum of 14 months of shared patrol shifts pressed the thinking aside. Yeah, Slater said.
Something. Could be marijuana. "Hands on the roof," Shepherd told Naomi. I do not consent to any search of this vehicle, she said clearly pitching her voice toward the exterior of the cruiser where the dash camera, if it was recording and correctly, would pick it up. I am stating for the record that I do not consent.
"Nobody asked." Shepherd said. "Probable cause search. Automobile exception. Put your hands on the roof."
She put her hands on the roof. The metal was warm from the afternoon sun. Shepherd patted her down with his hands moving faster and harder than the task required. The particular roughness of someone who has decided that the rules of professional conduct are a choice rather than a requirement. Up her arms, around her waist, over the pockets of her jeans.
Nothing. He stepped back. "Long way from DC." He said. "What brings you all the way down here?"
"I'm traveling on a public roadway." Naomi said. "I have broken no laws." "That smart thing you do when you talk." Shepherd moved toward the car door.
"We don't like that around here. Makes people think you've got something to hide." He looked at Slater. "Watch her. I'll take a look inside."
He went through the Subaru with the systematic thoroughness of a man who has done this many times and has learned to perform it as theater as much as procedure. The weekend bag came out first. Clothes, a novel with a bookmark in the second chapter, a toiletry case, a legal pad with handwritten notes in small precise print. He went through it item by item, holding things up, setting them on the hood. He checked beneath the seats.
He opened the spare tire compartment in the rear. He pressed his hands along the door panels. He took 24 minutes. Naomi stood on the gravel shoulder with her hands folded watching Slater's face. The younger deputy was doing something she recognized from interrogations.