Simone almost laughed. “A neighbor not recognizing me does not become more suspicious after you confirm I own the property.”
Mercer looked toward the hedge.
“Which neighbor?”
“I don't know. You tell me.”
“Maybe they’ve seen something else.”
“What else?”
Mercer’s mouth tightened.
Again, there was nothing.
Blake said quietly, “Daniel, we should clear.”
Mercer ignored him.
Simone studied his face. “Officer Mercer, what fact makes you more suspicious now than when you came through that gate?”
He looked at her.
“Your attitude.”
The yard went silent.
Even Caleb seemed to understand the significance of the answer.
“My attitude?”
“Most innocent people are relieved when police show up.”
Simone stared. “To spray their children?”
Mercer pointed toward her. “That. Exactly that.”
“What?”
“The hostility.”
“I am angry.”
“You’re being confrontational.”
“I am standing in my own backyard with my hands up while you keep detaining me after dispatch confirmed I own the property.”
Mercer stepped close enough that Blake shifted instinctively.
“Turn around.”
Simone’s face changed.
“Why?”
“Obstruction while we complete the investigation.”
Blake said, “What obstruction?”
Mercer turned. “Stay out of this.”
“I am in this.”
“Then back me up.”
Caleb’s breath caught.
He moved toward his mother.
Mercer pointed sharply. “Boy, stay there.”
Caleb froze.
Simone said, “Do not point at him.”
Mercer reached for the handcuffs on his duty belt.
That was when Caleb started crying.
Not loudly.
The kind of crying children do when they are desperately trying not to.
“Mom, I want Dad.”
Simone’s expression broke for the first time.
“He’ll be home soon.”
Mercer smirked. “Good. Maybe he can explain what’s going on.”
Simone looked directly at him.
“You are going to wish you had checked your facts before he gets here.”
Mercer laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The threat.”
Simone almost could not believe him.
“That was not a threat.”
“Sounded like one.”
“It was a warning that my husband knows exactly what police are legally permitted to do.”
Mercer unclipped the handcuffs.
“Everybody knows a lawyer these days.”
Simone said nothing.
Because Mercer had accidentally come close.
The front door of the house opened.
Not the gate.
The house.
A tall Black man stepped onto the rear patio carrying a white bakery bag in one hand and a cardboard tray with three coffees in the other.
Marcus Bennett stopped.
For two full seconds, nobody moved.
He saw his wife soaked through.
His son crying beside the garden bed.
The hose stretched across the lawn.
Two police officers.
Handcuffs in Mercer’s hand.
The bakery bag slipped slightly in his fingers.
“Simone?”
She looked at him.
“Marcus.”
Caleb ran.
Mercer reacted immediately.
“Stop!”
Caleb did not.
He sprinted toward his father.
Mercer moved as if to intercept.
Marcus set the coffees down and raised one hand.
“That is my son.”
Mercer stopped.
Caleb collided with Marcus’s waist and wrapped both arms around him.
Marcus looked down.
The boy’s shirt was soaked.
His hair was wet.
His face was streaked with tears.
Marcus crouched just enough to look him over. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did anybody hit you?”
Caleb shook his head.
“He sprayed me.”
Marcus looked toward the hose.
Then at Mercer.
“The officer sprayed you?”
Caleb nodded.
“Twice. Mom too.”
Marcus stood.
He did not shout.
That made Simone almost more worried.
She knew her husband.
Marcus angry was loud only when he was frightened.
Marcus furious became precise.
“Officers,” he said, “what is the legal basis for the detention?”
Mercer looked him up and down. Marcus wore dark jeans, a white Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and brown loafers without socks. Nothing about him announced his profession. He looked like a man returning from a bakery.
“Identify yourself.”
“Marcus Bennett. Homeowner.”
Mercer’s face shifted slightly.
The property record had already given him that name.
Marcus noticed.
“So you already verified me.”
“We verified the names on the property.”
“Good. Then why is my wife still detained?”
“She’s interfering with an active investigation.”
“What investigation?”
“Possible trespass.”
Marcus looked around the yard.
Then toward Simone.
Then toward Caleb.
“Who is suspected of trespassing?”
Mercer’s voice hardened. “Sir, don't make this worse.”
Marcus almost smiled.
“Worse for whom?”
Blake looked away.
Mercer pointed toward the patio. “Stay over there with the child.”
Marcus placed one hand gently on Caleb’s shoulder.
“I will stay beside my son. But I am asking again: what articulable fact currently supports detaining my wife after your dispatch confirmed she owns this property?”
Mercer stared.
“You a lawyer?”
Marcus said, “Yes.”
Mercer’s expression changed.
“Of course.”
He said it sarcastically.
Marcus heard the tone.
“So because you're a lawyer, you think you run the scene?”
“No.”
Marcus’s voice remained calm.
“I think the law runs the scene.”
Mercer did not like that.
Simone almost smiled despite everything.
Mercer gestured toward the gate. “We had a report of suspicious people inside a private yard.”
Marcus nodded. “That can justify inquiry depending on what was reported.”
The concession surprised Mercer.
Marcus continued, “What was reported?”
“Possible burglars.”
Blake looked at him again.
Marcus noticed.
“Was forced entry reported?”
No answer.
“Theft?”
No answer.