"If there's nothing illegal inside, why wouldn't you let us look?"

Terrence kept his voice level.

"Because declining a search doesn't mean I've committed a crime."

For several seconds, neither man spoke.

Then Haskell turned toward Mills.

"Get the dog unit."

Terrence glanced at his watch.

5:14.

The cake was supposed to be on Evelyn's dining room table by now.

But something much more serious was happening.

Terrence understood that.

And so, apparently, did Officer Haskell.

The difference was that Haskell believed he controlled the situation.

Terrence knew control could disappear very quickly.

CHAPTER 3 — THE SEARCH

The K-9 unit arrived twenty minutes later.

By then, Terrence had been standing beside the road for nearly forty-five minutes.

His mother had called twice.

He didn't answer.

Officer Mills walked the dog around the pickup.

Terrence watched carefully.

The dog circled the vehicle once.

Then again.

Haskell spoke quietly with the handler.

A moment later, Haskell announced, "We've got probable cause."

Terrence looked at him.

"Based on what?"

"The dog alerted."

Terrence said nothing.

Haskell smiled faintly.

"Now we're searching the truck."

Terrence looked toward Mills.

The younger officer avoided his eyes.

"Officer Haskell," Terrence said, "I'm stating clearly that I do not consent to this search."

"Noted."

Haskell pulled open the driver's door.

What happened next wasn't careful.

It wasn't methodical.

It felt personal.

Haskell removed a backpack and dropped it onto the pavement.

He opened the center console.

Receipts, charging cables, coins, and pens were tossed onto the driver's seat.

Another officer opened the rear doors.

A gym bag landed beside the road.

Then a folded jacket.

Then two grocery bags.

Haskell opened a small toolbox.

Nothing.

He checked underneath the seats.

Nothing.

He opened the glove compartment.

Insurance papers.

Vehicle manual.

Flashlight.

Nothing.

Ten minutes passed.

Then fifteen.

Terrence stood silently.

Every minute that produced nothing seemed to make Haskell more aggressive.

He moved to the truck bed.

A plastic storage container was opened.

Work gloves.

Boots.

An old blanket.

A tire inflator.

Nothing.

Haskell pulled everything out anyway.

Passing cars slowed down.

A woman in an SUV stared.

Two teenagers in another vehicle held up phones.

Terrence noticed.

He didn't react.