Keller pointed toward Cedric without looking at him. "The caller described him exactly."
Cedric stared directly at Keller. "Because I'm the only Black man on the street."
Silence fell. Nobody answered him—not Keller, not Briggs, nor the watching neighbors.
While Briggs re-entered the house, Keller stood guard over Cedric. A teenage boy stood near a mailbox recording everything on his phone, while Elaine Porter stepped onto the sidewalk wearing gardening gloves and sunglasses.
Keller noticed her immediately. "Ma'am, did you make the call?"
Elaine nodded. "Yes."
Cedric turned toward her in disbelief. "You called the police on me?"
Elaine crossed her arms tightly. "I saw someone pacing around outside this house for nearly an hour."
Cedric let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. "I live here! You've watched me mow this lawn for six years!"
"Well, you looked suspicious today," Elaine replied coldly, avoiding eye contact.
"What does that even mean?"
Keller stepped between them. "Enough."
"No," Cedric snapped, done staying quiet. "I want her to explain exactly what looked suspicious."
Elaine's face tightened. "You were wearing dark clothes, walking around, looking into the street. You were acting nervous."
"I was watering my grass! How do you get 'nervous' from watering a lawn?"
Elaine dropped her voice. "You people always get aggressive when questioned."
The air shifted instantly. A few neighbors looked visibly uncomfortable.
Cedric's jaw set hard. "'You people'?"
Elaine realized too late what she had said. "That's not what I meant."
"Yes, it is."
"All right, calm down," Keller ordered.