“Upstairs.”
She began walking toward the staircase.
Blake followed.
Nia turned.
“No.”
He stopped.
“I told you I’m getting it.”
“I’m not leaving you unsupervised.”
“In my own house?”
“We don’t know that yet.”
Nia stared at him.
The alarm system had just called her by name.
She had unlocked the door.
She knew the code.
Still, apparently, they did not know.
Nia understood something then.
This was no longer about verification.
It was about Blake refusing to admit that the answer had already been given.
“You can wait in the foyer.”
Blake stepped farther inside.
Cole remained near the door.
Nia climbed the stairs.
She returned less than a minute later carrying a black leather purse.
Inside were her driver’s license, wallet, and several cards.
She handed Blake the license.
He examined it.
The address matched.
Nia watched his eyes read it.
1248 Hawthorne Ridge Drive.
Exactly where they were standing.
Blake looked at her.
“This could be old.”
Nia almost laughed.
“It was issued seven months ago.”
“You own the property?”
“Yes.”
“Proof?”
Nia stared.
“My identification has this address.”
“That proves residence.”
“Then what exactly are you asking me to prove?”
Blake handed the license to Cole.
“Run it.”
Cole looked at the card.
Then at Nia.
He walked outside toward the patrol vehicle.
Nia folded her arms.
“Who called you?”
Blake ignored the question.
“Is anyone else inside?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Nia’s patience finally cracked.
“Am I sure there isn’t a stranger hiding inside the home I’ve been in all morning?”
Blake’s eyes narrowed.
“Watch your attitude.”
Nia actually laughed then.
It escaped before she could stop it.
Blake’s face hardened.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think this is ridiculous.”
He stepped closer.
“Someone reported suspicious activity.”
“What activity?”
“A woman entering a residence that didn’t appear to belong here.”
The words landed differently.
Nia looked at him.
“Didn’t appear to belong here?”
Blake realized what he had said.
He changed direction immediately.
“That’s what the caller reported.”
“What did they describe?”
“I’m not discussing the caller.”
“Did they describe me?”
He did not answer.
Nia felt something cold settle into her stomach.
Her neighbor across the street, Harold Pierce, had watched her house constantly since she moved in.
Not openly.
Never enough to confront.
But enough that Nia noticed.
He commented when unfamiliar cars visited.
Asked whether contractors were “authorized.”
Once questioned a delivery driver leaving her driveway.
Nia had dismissed it as nosiness.
Now she wondered.
Cole returned.
“License is valid.”
Blake looked irritated.
Cole continued.
“Address matches.”
“I can see that.”
“No flags.”
Nia spread her hands.
“Can I go back to my pool now?”
Cole looked toward Blake.
The correct answer was obvious.
Yes.
Blake could have apologized.
He could have walked away.
The incident would have lasted five awkward minutes.
Instead, he looked toward the rear of the property.
“You said you were swimming?”
“Yes.”
“I need to see the backyard.”
Nia stared at him.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you have verified who I am.”
“We still have an open suspicious-person call.”
“The suspicious person is the homeowner.”
“You keep saying that.”
“My driver’s license says it.”
Blake stepped closer.
“You don’t decide when my investigation ends.”
Nia looked at Cole.
“Does he?”
Cole hesitated.
Blake immediately turned.
“Stay out of it.”
That told Nia everything she needed to know about their dynamic.
Cole was subordinate.
And Blake knew it.
Nia picked up her purse.
“I’m asking you both to leave my property.”
Blake moved into her path.
“No.”
“Then am I being detained?”
He did not answer.
“If I’m not detained, I’m going outside.”
Nia walked toward the kitchen.
Blake followed.
Cole followed them both.
They stepped onto the rear terrace.
The pool glittered beyond them.
Nia placed her purse beneath the covered patio.
Then Blake said:
“Turn around.”
Nia stopped.
“What?”
“Hands behind your back.”
For several seconds, she believed he was bluffing.
“On what charge?”
“Obstruction.”
“How?”
“You repeatedly refused lawful instructions.”
Cole finally spoke.
“She gave us ID.”
Blake turned sharply.
“Cole.”
“She owns the house.”
“We haven’t confirmed ownership.”
“We confirmed residency.”
“That’s not the same.”
Nia looked between them.
“Call property records.”
Blake ignored her.
“Turn around.”
“No.”
He stepped forward and grabbed her arm.
That was how Nia ended up barefoot beside her own swimming pool, wearing a burgundy swimsuit while a police officer tried to put her in handcuffs.
Several neighbors noticed.
Phones appeared.
Blake seemed almost energized by the audience.
“Stop resisting.”
“I am standing still.”
“You pulled away.”
“You twisted my arm.”
Cole held the second cuff but had not moved closer.
Nia noticed Blake’s body camera.
And suddenly remembered every word recorded since the officers arrived.
The key.
The alarm.
Her identification.
Cole confirming the address.
Everything.
“Play back your first ninety seconds.”
Blake stopped.
“We are not reviewing evidence during an active detention.”
Nia’s voice remained calm.
“Then ask your partner what it shows.”
Cole looked at him.
Blake tightened his grip.
“Don’t.”
Cole’s eyes moved toward the camera.
Something shifted in his expression.
He remembered.
The recording had captured the smart-home announcement.
Welcome home, Nia.
Cole lowered the cuffs.
“Blake.”
“What?”
“We should check.”