The handcuffs in his grip stopped halfway to Naomi’s wrists.
The house continued speaking.
“Owner recognized. Front cameras active. Exterior interaction archived. Distress alert transmitted.”
Briggs’s face changed instantly.
He looked from the gate to Naomi, then to the phone in his own hand as if it had become evidence.
Naomi’s voice stayed level.
“I told you to look first.”
Mercer slowly released just enough pressure for her to straighten a little, though he had not fully let go.
From inside the open gate, a black sedan rolled forward and stopped. A uniformed private security officer stepped out, hand to his earpiece, eyes fixed on the patrol car.
At nearly the same moment, a second police cruiser turned into the street far too fast for coincidence.
Briggs muttered, “What the hell is this?”
Naomi answered without looking at him.
“My house runs a distress protocol. If I’m outside during my programmed morning route and force is detected near my registered biometric device, it triggers live archiving and sends alerts.”
Mercer stared at her.
Naomi met his eyes.
“And because I design security systems for a living,” she said, “the protocol is very thorough.”
The second cruiser stopped behind Mercer’s unit. A captain stepped out immediately—fifty-something, sharp posture, silver hair at the temples.
Captain Andrew Holmes.
He took in the scene in one sweep: Naomi pinned at the hood, Briggs holding her phone, Mercer with handcuffs in hand, the open gate across the street, the private security officer waiting by the drive, and at least three neighboring security cameras pointed in this direction.
Holmes’s expression hardened.
“Mercer,” he said. “Let her go. Now.”
Mercer released Naomi so quickly it almost looked involuntary.
Naomi stepped back from the hood, rolling one shoulder once, then the other. She kept her chin high and said nothing.
Holmes turned to her.
“Ms. Carter… are you injured?”
“A sore wrist and a much clearer understanding of your patrol culture.”
Briggs lowered his eyes.
Holmes inhaled slowly.
“What happened here?”
Mercer found his voice first.
“Captain, we got a report of a suspicious person—”
Holmes cut him off sharply.
“I’ll ask for your report after I ask her.”
Naomi held out her free hand toward Briggs.
“My phone.”
He returned it immediately.