Then the laundry-room door.
Then he returned to the kitchen.
A cardboard box sat beside the island.
Harold recognized it immediately.
His new computer monitor.
Collins opened the top.
"There are electronics here."
Harold looked at him.
"They're mine."
Collins lifted a packing slip.
"Name says Harold Newman."
"Correct."
"Could still be stolen."
Harold stared at him.
"You just read the receipt showing the equipment belongs to me."
Collins ignored him.
He opened another box.
Harold's voice became colder.
"Why are you opening that?"
Collins didn't answer.
Harold turned toward Officer Lopez.
"Officer?"
She looked at him.
"Yes?"
"Are you recording this?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Collins looked irritated.
"Sir, we're just checking."
"No."
Harold shook his head.
"You're searching."
The sergeant returned from the hallway.
"What do we have?"
"Electronics."
"Where?"
"Kitchen."
Keller walked toward the boxes.
Harold watched him.
"Those are mine."
Keller picked up the packing slip.
"Where'd you get them?"
"Peachtree Computer Services."
"Why?"
"Because I bought them."
Keller dropped the paper.
"What else is in this house?"
Harold looked at him.
"Furniture."
Keller stared.
"Clothing."
Harold continued.
"Books. Food. A washing machine. A television. The ordinary things people keep in houses."
The sergeant's face reddened.
"You want to keep being smart?"
"I want you to stop searching my home."
Collins moved toward the far counter.
Then he stopped.
There was something beside Harold's keys.
A black leather credential wallet.
It had been left partly open.
Sunlight entered through the kitchen window and struck the gold shield inside.
Collins leaned closer.
He stopped breathing for a second.
"Sergeant."
Keller turned.
"What?"
Collins pointed.
The sergeant walked over.
Then he saw it.
The front of the wallet read:
UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
Beneath that:
OFFICE OF THE INSPECTOR GENERAL
And below the gold shield:
SPECIAL AGENT
Collins looked at the second identification card.
His face changed.
"Harold E. Newman."
He looked toward the foyer.
The card identified Harold as a Supervisory Special Agent.
Keller stared.
Then slowly turned toward Harold.
"You're federal law enforcement?"
Harold said nothing.
Keller asked again.
"You're with the Justice Department?"
Harold nodded.
Keller's voice changed.
It became quieter.
Almost respectful.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
Harold looked at him.
"Because you asked for access to my house."
He paused.
"Not my résumé."
Nobody spoke.
Collins stepped away from the counter.
"Sarge."
Keller looked at him.
"We need to stop."
Keller frowned.
"Now."
Harold watched the transformation.
The same officer who had treated every question as suspicious suddenly seemed concerned about procedure.
Harold said quietly:
"You forced your way into my home and handcuffed me."
"We had a serious burglary report."
"And?"
Keller glanced toward the badge.
"If we'd known who you were—"
Harold interrupted.
"Don't finish that sentence."
Keller froze.
Harold continued.
"If seeing that badge changes your understanding of whether a warrant matters, then we have a much bigger problem than the one already standing in my kitchen."
Officer Lopez looked down.
Harold noticed.
She understood.
The badge hadn't changed the law.
It had changed the officers.
Keller cleared his throat.
"Mr. Newman, we're trying to de-escalate."
"Then start by taking these cuffs off."
Keller hesitated.
Two seconds.
Harold noticed every fraction of those two seconds.
Lopez stepped forward.
"I'll do it."
She unlocked the cuffs.
Harold brought his hands forward slowly.
Red marks circled both wrists.
He rubbed them.
Then pointed toward the counter.
"Nobody touch that badge."
Collins nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Harold looked at Lopez.
"Are all your cameras running?"
"Yes."
"All three?"
Collins nodded.
Keller finally said:
"Yes."
"Good."
Harold's eyes remained on the sergeant.
"Keep them running."
Keller's face hardened again.
"Mr. Newman, being federal doesn't mean local police can't investigate you."
"Correct."
"It doesn't give you special privileges."
"Correct."
"It doesn't mean you can't be arrested."
"Correct."
Harold paused.
"But it also doesn't mean a federal badge turns an unlawful entry into a lawful one."
Silence.
"My occupation is irrelevant to the constitutional question."
Lopez looked at Keller.
Harold continued.
"Officer Lopez asked whether you should secure the exterior and contact a detective."
Keller didn't answer.
"She was right."
Keller's jaw tightened.
"We had probable cause."