Marcus looked down at the kids. “Stay beside me.”
Caleb gripped his sister's sticky hand. “Are we in trouble, Pastor Marcus?”
“No.” Marcus wanted the word to sound stronger, but the tightening in his chest betrayed him.
Two police cruisers skidded to a halt near the curb, their lightbars flashing a blinding red and blue. Officer Daniel Ruiz stepped out first, followed immediately by his partner, Officer Hannah Cole. Neither had their weapons drawn, but Marcus still felt every muscle in his body lock into a state of hyper-vigilance.
Carol rushed toward them, pointing eagerly. “That’s him! The man in the gray shirt. He’s attempting to leave with those children.”
Officer Ruiz held up a single, black-gloved hand. “Slow down. Are you the 911 caller?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see this man force either child into the vehicle?”
“No, but—”
“Did either child cry out or ask you for help?”
“They looked frightened!” Carol insisted.
Officer Cole bypassed Carol and approached Marcus cautiously. “Sir, please keep your hands exactly where I can see them.”
Marcus raised both hands into the air. His face burned as the ring of smartphones pressed closer. “I understand you received a call,” he said, his voice remarkably steady. “But I need you to understand that these children are in my care legally.”
“We’ll sort that out,” Officer Cole replied. “For now, step away from the vehicle.”
Marcus obeyed, shuffling sideways. Caleb and Sophie moved with him like shadows.
Officer Ruiz looked at the boy. “You can stay where you are, buddy.”
“I want to stay with Pastor Marcus,” Caleb said fiercely.
The title seemed to change something in Officer Ruiz’s expression. Carol heard it, too, and immediately interjected. “He is not a pastor! Anyone can call himself that to gain trust.”
Ruiz turned back to her, his patience thinning. “Ma’am, please stand back while we investigate.”
“You should have him in handcuffs!” Carol demanded.
“Has he threatened you?” Ruiz asked.
“He told me to mind my own business.”
“That isn’t a threat, ma’am.”
Marcus watched the phones recording him. Six strangers documenting the worst day of his professional life. He had spent twelve years building the Bridgeway Family Center, pouring his heart into this neighborhood. A three-minute viral video devoid of context could destroy a decade of trust.
Officer Cole spoke quietly to Marcus. “Do you have identification, sir?”
“Yes. It’s in the center console of the van.”
“Do not reach for it yet.”