Cedric looked at Keller. "You heard that, right?"
Keller shrugged slightly. "She's scared. Residents have a right to report suspicious activity."
"So being Black outside my own house is suspicious activity now?"
"Watch your tone," Keller warned.
"My tone? I'm handcuffed in my own driveway because somebody didn't think I belonged here!"
Keller stepped until they were inches apart. "And maybe if you stopped acting confrontational, this would go smoother."
Inside the house, Briggs's body camera recorded him searching room to room. He entered Cedric's office, where military plaques covered one wall beside photos of Cedric and his son fishing. On the kitchen counter lay mail, family photos, and mortgage papers addressed directly to Cedric Boon. Briggs picked up an envelope, his expression growing increasingly uneasy.
Outside, Keller pressed further. "You said you're active duty? What unit?"
Cedric answered flatly.
"You got proof besides pictures?"
"My military ID is in my wallet on the kitchen counter."
"Any reason dispatch says you refused to identify yourself?"
Cedric frowned. "I never refused anything. No one approached me before you arrived."
Briggs finally returned, carrying Cedric's wallet and military ID. He handed them to Keller. "Everything checks out. He lives here."
The tension should have ended there, but Keller's pride refused to yield. Instead of unlocking the handcuffs, he stared at Cedric for several long seconds before asking a question that stunned even his partner:
"You got gang affiliations from your service overseas?"
Briggs looked shocked. "What?"
Cedric went completely still. "You seriously just asked me that?"
"I'm asking questions."
"No," Cedric replied slowly. "You're trying to justify humiliating me."
"You don't tell me what I'm doing."