At that moment, Chief Constable Conges's expression was indescribably complex—a "wild boar" that had run all the way from a thousand miles away, not only lived in his house, ate his food,
but also nosed into the "cabbage" he had carefully nurtured for sixteen years.
The chief's immediate thought was—if this wild boar dared to bully Selena, as her father, he would certainly not let him off easily.
In just half a month, this "wild boar" didn't even come home at night, got caught speeding on the highway with other pretty women, fooling around.
Chief Conges's fist clenched tightly, his knuckles making a cracking sound, as if he would swing it at Zhou Qingfeng's face in the next second.
He even had the urge to slaughter the pig.
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Jennifer calmly pulled out a delicate card from her bag and handed it to Chief Constable Conges.
The card had a straightforward and clear line of text: "The holder of this card is a friend of the Miami Police Department."
This card was not an ordinary ID but a sort of invisible "pass."
In the United States, police unions issue two special types of cards to family members and friends of police officers— "Family Cards" and "Friends Cards."
These cards are not given out for free but have a set price, with each "Friends Card" costing about 120 US Dollars, and the price may increase over time.
The card in Jennifer's hand even had the personal signature of the Florida Police Union president.
This meant it held higher value, allowing the holder to receive more "courtesies" during law enforcement interactions.
The purpose of this card was clear.
It allowed police to "reconsider the severity" of enforcement, especially for minor violations like speeding, often letting the cardholder avoid penalties.
However, Chief Constable Conges was clearly not buying this. He glanced at the gold-stamped "Friends Card" expressionlessly and said coldly, "This is White Beach Town, not the metro area."
Jennifer did not show any embarrassment but shrugged lightly, responding in a calm tone:
"Of course, I'm not trying to influence your enforcement standards, just showing that I'm a law-abiding citizen with good relationships within the police community."
Her tone carried full confidence, as if this card was just a small symbol of her identity, not the only one.
Meanwhile, Conges's partner was checking Jennifer's license plate. He looked at it and shouted, "Boss, this plate is real."
The "real" here did not refer to the legality of the plate but to the "11-99" marking on it.
This mark originally was a police emergency assistance code, used as a distress signal in extremely dangerous situations.
However, the "11-99" Foundation had given it new significance.
Founded forty years ago, this foundation provides funding support to highway patrol officers across various states, with total donations exceeding 42 million US dollars.
By donating to the foundation, car owners could receive a special license plate marked with "11-99," symbolizing their support for the police.
Because this plate was known as the "ultimate speeding ticket solution," many attempted to counterfeit it.
Therefore, when police saw such a plate, they often questioned its authenticity.
However, Jennifer's plate stood up to scrutiny, clearly indicating she had indeed donated to the "11-99" Foundation, and the amount was significant.
Despite this, Chief Constable Conges remained unmoved. He shook his head again, firmly saying:
"Ma'am, this is White Beach Town, not the metro area. Our town's police department enforces the law independently. If you were speeding, you get a ticket."
Jennifer seemed a bit dejected but did not give up. She sighed lightly, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness:
"Chief Constable, do I really have to make a phone call? While I don't have many friends, I do have a few that can come in handy."
Chief Constable Conges clearly did not take her threat seriously, responding indifferently: "Go ahead, you have the freedom to communicate."
Jennifer quickly dialed a number, explaining briefly that she had been stopped for speeding and asking the person on the other end for help in smoothing things over.
Within just two to three minutes, Conges's police radio crackled with the voice of the town's police chief: "Conges, this is Matthew, do you copy?"
Conges and his partner exchanged a glance, not too surprised at how quickly Jennifer had "pulled some strings."
Conges responded, "This is Conges, I'm on duty on Highway 8."
The chief asked directly: "Did you stop a pretty girl in a red sports car?"
"Yes," Conges replied.
"Does she have any serious violations?"
"Just speeding," Conges answered.
"Has she been drinking?"
"No."
"Let her go."
"Alright."