Behind the main counter stood Linda Mercer, a woman in her early fifties wearing an expensive gray blazer.
Linda looked at Denise.
Her expression tightened.
"Can I help you?"
The words were polite.
The tone wasn't.
"Just looking for a birthday gift," Denise replied.
She walked toward a display of silver bracelets.
One immediately caught her attention.
A delicate butterfly charm rested against a thin silver chain.
Denise smiled.
"That's beautiful."
Linda reluctantly unlocked the case.
Denise picked up the bracelet.
She turned it over carefully.
The tiny stones in the butterfly wings caught the light.
"She'll love this."
Linda said nothing.
Instead, her eyes remained fixed on Denise's purse.
Denise noticed.
"I'll take it."
Linda suddenly reached forward and snatched the bracelet from her hand.
"Before we continue, I need to see inside your bag."
Denise stared at her.
"Excuse me?"
"Something is missing from this display."
"Then check your inventory."
Linda's voice became louder.
"I saw you put something into your purse."
"No, you didn't."
Several customers turned toward them.
Then Miller and Davis appeared at the entrance.
Too quickly.
Denise understood immediately.
This had been coordinated.
Miller approached.
"Ma'am, empty the bag on the counter."
Denise looked at him.
"On what legal basis?"
Miller blinked.
He had expected embarrassment.
Fear.
Compliance.
Instead, he had received a legal question.
"Because store management believes you stole something."
"Belief isn't evidence."
Linda crossed her arms.
"If you have nothing to hide, open it."
Denise's eyes hardened.
"That's not how rights work."
She pointed toward the ceiling.
"Those cameras can tell you exactly what I touched."
Davis shifted uneasily.