On a humid August night in Newport, Rhode Island, a scene unfolded outside the well-known Clarke Cooke House restaurant that would soon ripple far beyond Bannister’s Wharf. Devon Hogan Flanagan, a special assistant attorney general with nearly seven years of service in the state’s top legal office, was arrested for trespassing after a confrontation with restaurant staff and Newport police. But it wasn’t just the charges that drew public scrutiny—it was the way the arrest played out, captured in full by police body cameras, and the words Flanagan uttered as she was led away: “You’re gonna regret this.”
The incident began around 9:51 p.m. on August 14, 2025, when restaurant management called police to report that two patrons—Flanagan and her longtime friend, Veronica Hannan—were refusing to leave despite repeated requests. According to police reports cited by multiple outlets, Hannan was visibly intoxicated, a factor that contributed to the escalation. When officers arrived, they approached the pair and asked if the restaurant wanted them trespassed. The staff’s answer was clear: “Trespass, yeah. Cuff 'em, please.”
Body camera footage released by Newport police on August 18 shows Flanagan immediately asking officers to turn off their cameras, claiming, “It’s protocol.” One officer, clearly frustrated, responded that her claim was “absurd” and explained that Newport’s policy only allows deactivation to protect the privacy of victims or witnesses, not suspects. Flanagan persisted, repeating, “I’m an AG. I’m an AG,” as if her position might sway the officers. Hannan, meanwhile, became physically combative—slipping out of her handcuffs and using her feet to block the police car door from closing, according to the footage and police accounts.
Despite the mounting tension, officers remained firm. When Flanagan again invoked her title, an officer replied, “Good for you,” followed by an expletive. As she was placed in the patrol vehicle, Flanagan delivered the warning that would soon be replayed in news headlines and on social media: “Buddy, you’re gonna regret this. You’re gonna regret it.”
Both women were charged: Flanagan with willful trespass, a misdemeanor resulting in a court summons; Hannan with trespass, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest, leading to a court hearing. The footage, widely circulated online, intensified scrutiny of Flanagan’s conduct and the question of whether she attempted to use her authority to avoid arrest. The phrase “You’re gonna regret this” quickly became a flashpoint in the public debate, emblematic of the dangers of perceived abuses of power.
Flanagan’s actions drew swift condemnation from within her own ranks. Rhode Island Attorney General Peter Neronha, who leads an office of about 110 attorneys, called her behavior “unacceptable” and “embarrassing” in an interview with local radio station WPRO. “She’s put me in a bad position. She’s embarrassed herself, humiliated herself, treated the Newport Police Department horribly,” Neronha said, adding, “I’ve got 110 lawyers. She embarrassed all of them, in a sense.” He also revealed that Flanagan had watched the arrest footage and was expected to “rectify” the situation, which would include a formal apology to Newport police. As for discipline, Neronha said no final decision had been made, but a suspension without pay was under consideration, according to reporting by MixVale and other outlets.
The Attorney General’s office confirmed Flanagan’s employment history: nearly seven years in the criminal division’s appellate unit, where she handles cases before the Rhode Island Supreme Court and earns an annual salary of approximately $113,000. Flanagan, 34, is also a mother—an aspect not lost on Neronha, who acknowledged the personal consequences of the viral footage. Hannan, her friend and fellow arrestee, is a technology specialist with a background in product management and consulting, as well as a mother of three.
The incident has shone a harsh light on questions of professional conduct, the use of public office in personal disputes, and the power of body camera technology to ensure police transparency. According to Newport police, the bodycam policy is clear: only victims or witnesses—not suspects—can request deactivation. Flanagan’s insistence to the contrary was seen by many as an attempt to intimidate officers, a move that ultimately backfired and heightened the seriousness of the situation.
Social media reaction was swift and, for the most part, unforgiving. Commenters criticized Flanagan’s apparent attempt to leverage her position, while praising Newport police for adhering to protocol and refusing to be swayed. The footage, which captured every heated exchange and attempt at persuasion, became a rallying point for those advocating for accountability among public officials. As reported by MixVale, the case “raises questions about the use of authority in personal situations.”
The Attorney General’s office launched an immediate internal review, expected to conclude within days of the incident. The stakes are high: the outcome could affect not only Flanagan’s career, but also the public’s trust in the office she represents. Neronha, for his part, acknowledged the difficulty of retaining qualified attorneys in the public sector, but insisted that a “strong sanction” would be necessary if Flanagan were to remain in her role. He also praised the Newport police for their impartial conduct throughout the ordeal.
As the review proceeds, Flanagan has declined to comment publicly, perhaps waiting for the process to play out before making any statements. Her silence has done little to quell the debate, with many in Rhode Island’s legal and civic communities watching closely to see how the case will be resolved. The story, after all, is about more than one night in Newport—it’s about the expectations placed on those who serve the public, and the consequences when those expectations are not met.
For now, the Clarke Cooke House incident stands as a cautionary tale about the intersection of personal conduct and public responsibility. The arrest, captured in vivid detail by body cameras, has become a litmus test for transparency and accountability in Rhode Island’s justice system. Whether Flanagan’s warning—“You’re gonna regret this”—will echo in the halls of the Attorney General’s office remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: the public, and her colleagues, are expecting answers.
