Camille studied him. “The investigation has one question right now: whether I’m authorized to be here.” She glanced toward Pierce, who was still speaking with dispatch. “Your partner is finally answering it.”
Danner stepped closer to the garden hose lying on the ground. Then he bent and picked it up. Camille frowned immediately.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Danner said he was moving the object farther away for officer safety. Camille looked at the hose in his hand and then at the empty space where it had been resting four feet from her.
“It was already away from me.” Danner ignored that. Water dripped from the nozzle onto the stones.
Camille held out one hand. “Put my hose back down.” Danner looked at her. “Your hose?”
“Yes.” He smiled.
“You’re really committed to this story.” Camille’s voice lost nearly all warmth. “It isn’t a story.”
Danner twisted the nozzle slightly and pointed it toward the ground. “Move toward the gate.” Camille remained where she was.
“No.” “I gave you a lawful instruction.”
“You have not explained why moving me from my own backyard is necessary while ownership is being checked.” Danner said scene security required distance.
Camille glanced at Pierce, Judith, the open gate, and the twenty feet of empty flagstone between herself and the back door. “What scene?” she asked. Danner’s mouth tightened.
The first burst of water struck the ground near her left shoe. Camille stepped backward instinctively as droplets splashed across her trouser leg. Judith gasped.
Pierce turned from his radio. “Eric.” Danner looked at Camille rather than at him.
“I told her to move.” Camille stared at the wet stone. “You just sprayed water toward me.”
“I sprayed the ground.” “Put the hose down.”
Danner lifted the nozzle again. Camille did not move. “Back toward the gate,” he ordered.
“No.” The water struck her this time.
The stream hit the front of her blouse and shoulder with enough force to turn the rust-colored fabric dark almost instantly. Camille recoiled half a step, and water scattered across her sunglasses. Pierce started forward.
“Eric, stop.” Danner released the trigger. “She’s refusing commands.”
“She isn’t threatening anybody.” Pierce’s voice was firmer now.
Danner looked over his shoulder. “I know what I’m doing.” Pierce glanced toward Camille’s soaked blouse and did not answer.
Camille removed her sunglasses slowly. Water ran down one cheek. “Turn off my hose.”
Danner’s breathing had changed. He appeared less like an officer managing a call and more like a man determined not to lose an argument in front of witnesses. “Move.”
“No.” He squeezed the trigger again.
Another burst struck her chest and left sleeve. Judith covered her mouth with both hands. Pierce stepped between Danner and Camille far enough to break the direct line of the water.
“That’s enough,” he said. Danner looked at him as though the betrayal was personal.
“Move.” Pierce did not.
“We’re verifying the address.” Danner pointed at Camille. “She’s detained.”
“For trespassing?” “Yes.”
Pierce looked toward the house. “If she owns it, there is no trespassing.”
“That’s what we’re checking.” “Exactly.”
Camille laughed once, without amusement. “This would be an excellent time to notice how circular that has become.”
Danner glared at her. “You really cannot stop talking.”
“My silence is not a condition of ownership.” Pierce’s radio crackled.
Everyone stopped. The dispatcher asked him to confirm Camille’s full name and the exact street number. Pierce repeated both.
A few seconds passed. Danner still held the nozzle. Camille stood soaked in the center of her own garden while Judith watched from outside the fence.
Then the dispatcher came back. “Property owner matches the name provided. Deed recorded Thursday morning.”
Pierce looked at Camille. Danner frowned as though the message had been unclear.