A White Mercedes Pulled Up to Gate Six on a Tuesday Afternoon Without a Permit
Her jaw moved.
Her fingers found the thin gold chain at her wrist and turned it once, twice.
“Have you ever seen a permit in my windshield, Sergeant?
In all the times you’ve leaned in at that gate?”
I had not.
Not once.
“You should ask yourself who decides what goes on that roster,” she said.
“Then go home and make your children supper.