Behind him, a car horn blared as another driver got waved through. Johnson was at the SUV now, speaking into the radio, glancing back at her like he wanted her to squirm.
Instead, she reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out her phone.
Daniels’ eyes snapped to it. “Put that away.”
She kept her thumb on the screen. “I’m recording.”
Daniels stepped closer fast. “You can’t record us.”
She looked at him like he was a child lying badly. “Yes, I can.”
Daniels’ face reddened. “Turn it off.”
Johnson marched back, jaw tight. “What’s the problem?”
“She’s recording,” Daniels said, as if she’d pulled a gun.
Johnson’s eyes narrowed. “Turn it off.”
The woman didn’t. “I’m in public. You’re on duty. There’s no expectation of privacy.”
Johnson’s mouth curled. “Oh, you’re one of those.”
“One of what?” she asked.
Daniels laughed again, louder and meaner. “One of those ordinary women who think they’re lawyers.”
The woman’s gaze sharpened. “I didn’t say I was a lawyer.”
Johnson took a step into her space. “You want to keep that attitude, I can find reasons to keep you here all night.”
The woman’s voice didn’t change. “If you’re going to detain me, I’d like your badge number.”