“You going to tell her why you pulled her over?” “Speeding,” the cop lied. I had just pulled out of my neighborhood. I hadn’t had time to get my car up to the speed limit before they’d pulled me over. “What’d you clock her at?” Logan asked. “License and registration,” the cop barked again. I wiggled my fingers at Logan. He had told me to cooperate, but here he was not doing that. Logan gave me the registration, but handed it over with his badge as well. I handed them, along with my ID, to the cop. “You two with the sheriff’s department?” Logan asked. “That’s correct,” the cop at my window
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