Marcus pushed his chair back.
Stood.
Hayes’s grin widened.
He expected anger now.
A shove.
A threat.
Something useful.
Instead Marcus calmly wiped rice from his jacket sleeve.
Then looked at the officer’s body camera.
“Still recording?”
Hayes glanced down instinctively.
“Don’t worry about my camera.”
Marcus nodded.
“I’m not worried.”
That answer made Hayes uncomfortable.
“What’s your name?”
Marcus asked.
Hayes laughed again.
“You can read.”
“I can.”
Marcus looked at the nameplate.
“HAYES.”
Then at the badge number.
“Daniel Hayes.”
The officer’s expression changed.
“How do you know my first name?”
Marcus did not answer.
He reached inside his jacket.
Hayes’s right hand moved immediately toward his holster.
“Hand out.”
Marcus stopped.
Nearby customers gasped.
Hayes widened his stance.
“I said hand out!”
Marcus looked at him.
“My identification is inside my jacket.”
“Then use two fingers.”
Marcus did.
Slowly.
He removed a black credential wallet.
Hayes still looked amused.
Maybe security.
Maybe private investigator.
Maybe some retired officer carrying an old badge.
Marcus opened it.
Held it inches from Hayes’s face.
The laughter disappeared.
Gold shield.
Department identification.
Photograph.
MARCUS REED.
DETECTIVE.
INTERNAL AFFAIRS DIVISION.
Hayes froze.
The entire food stand remained silent.
Marcus lowered the credential.
“No.”
Hayes stared.
Marcus slipped the wallet back inside his jacket.
“I’m not going to call the cops.”
He looked directly at Hayes.
“I am one.”
Hayes’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Marcus continued.
“And unlike you, Detective Reed is currently off duty.”
Luis covered his mouth.
One of the college students whispered:
“Oh, man.”
Hayes looked toward the body camera.
Then back at Marcus.
“Listen.”
Marcus raised one hand.
“No.”
“It’s not what it looked like.”
Marcus glanced toward the food on the pavement.
“Which part?”
“You were being disruptive.”
“I was seated.”
“You refused a lawful order.”
“What law?”
Hayes hesitated.
Marcus waited.
Hayes tried again.
“We had complaints.”
“From whom?”
“Businesses.”
Luis finally spoke.
“Not me.”
Hayes turned.
“Luis.”
“No.”
The food stand owner stepped out from behind the counter.
For the first time, his fear had begun to turn into something else.
“I never complained about him.”
Hayes stared.
Luis continued.
“I never complained about anybody sitting here.”
“Don’t get involved.”
Luis gave a bitter laugh.
“This is my restaurant.”
“Food stand.”
“My business.”
Hayes looked toward Marcus again.
Something close to panic entered his face.
Marcus noticed.
He had seen it before.
The moment an officer realized the person in front of him could document his conduct in a way that could not be dismissed as a civilian complaint.
Hayes lowered his voice.
“Can we talk privately?”
Marcus looked around.
“You weren’t concerned about privacy when you threw my lunch into the street.”
“I made a mistake.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
Hayes looked relieved.
Then Marcus continued.
“But it didn’t start with the tray.”
The relief vanished.
“You saw me sitting here.”
Marcus counted on his fingers.
“You questioned why I was in the neighborhood.”
Another finger.
“You implied customers were uncomfortable.”
Another.
“You ordered me to leave a private business whose owner wanted me here.”
Another.
“And when I asked what law I violated, you destroyed my property.”
Hayes’s jaw tightened.
“You were antagonizing me.”
Marcus looked at him.
“With questions?”
“You knew what you were doing.”
“Yes.”
That answer surprised Hayes.
Marcus stepped closer.
“I was watching what you would do when somebody didn’t get scared.”
Hayes went pale.
That sentence meant more than he wanted it to.
“What does that mean?”
Marcus did not answer immediately.
He looked toward Luis.
“How long has this been happening?”
Luis stared at the officer.
Hayes snapped:
“Don’t answer that.”
Marcus turned back.
“That sounded a lot like an order to a witness.”
Hayes immediately changed tone.
“I’m saying this is being blown out of proportion.”
Luis said:
“Eight months.”
Marcus looked at him.
“What?”
Luis swallowed.
“Eight months.”
Hayes’s face hardened.
“Luis.”
The owner ignored him.
“He comes by two or three times a week.”
Marcus stayed quiet.
Luis continued.
“If homeless people sit near the wall, he makes them move.”
“Loitering enforcement,” Hayes said quickly.
Luis looked at him.
“You threatened to arrest my dishwasher.”
“He was drinking outside.”
“He was drinking a soda.”
Hayes’s face reddened.
“That is not what happened.”
The nurse at the nearby table raised her hand slightly.
“I saw that.”
Everyone looked.
She appeared almost embarrassed to have spoken.
“I work across the street.”
Hayes stared at her.
She continued.
“I’ve seen him stop people here before.”
Marcus asked:
“What kind of people?”
The nurse hesitated.
Then looked directly at Hayes.
“Mostly people he thinks won’t complain.”
Hayes stepped forward.
“All right, everybody needs to—”
Marcus’s voice changed.
“Officer Hayes.”
Hayes stopped.
“Do not instruct witnesses.”
The authority in Marcus’s tone was unmistakable now.
Hayes looked toward his cruiser.
Marcus saw it.
“So we’re going to do this correctly.”
Marcus took out his phone.
“Dispatch?”
Hayes quickly said:
“We don’t need to make this bigger than it is.”
Marcus looked at him.