Cole was forty-seven, stocky, shaved-headed, and carried himself with the rigid confidence of someone who believed authority became weaker if it hesitated.
The second officer was Ryan Mercer.
Ryan was younger, perhaps twenty-eight, with a quieter manner.
Cole looked at the house number.
Then at Marcus.
Then at the open front door.
Marcus took another sip of coffee.
Cole crossed the lawn instead of using the walkway.
Marcus immediately noticed.
"Morning," Marcus said.
Cole ignored the greeting.
"Put the cup down."
Marcus looked at his mug.
"Why?"
"Just put it down."
Marcus slowly placed the cup on the stone ledge.
Cole stopped at the bottom step.
"You live here?"
"Yes."
"Identification."
Marcus stared at him.
"For standing on my porch?"
"We received a report."
"Of what?"
"A suspicious person."
Marcus looked down at himself.
Then at the house.
Then back at Cole.
"What was suspicious?"
Cole's expression hardened.
"I'm asking the questions."
Marcus remained calm.
"And I'm asking what behavior caused the call."
Cole stepped closer.
"Identification."
"My wallet is inside."
"Go get it."
Marcus turned toward the front door.
"Stop."
Marcus turned back.
"You told me to get my identification."
"I didn't tell you to walk away."
Marcus stared at him.
Ryan looked uncomfortable.
"Brad," he said quietly, "he said his wallet's inside."
Cole ignored him.
Marcus folded his arms.
"Then tell me exactly what you want me to do."
Cole climbed one step.
"Lose the attitude."
"This isn't attitude. I'm asking for one clear instruction."
Cole's eyes moved toward the interior of the house.
"How long have you been here?"
"Since last night."
"You own it?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
Marcus caught the tone.
"Really."
Cole looked at Ryan.
"Run the address."
Ryan returned to the SUV.
Marcus watched him go.
Cole stepped onto the porch.
"You know what houses cost around here?"
Marcus almost laughed.
"I bought this one. So yes."
Cole's expression hardened.
"You think you're funny?"
"No."
Marcus gestured toward the doorway.
"Do you want the deed, closing documents, or utility bill? They're all inside."
"Don't move."
Marcus lowered his hand.
Across the street, Elaine had stepped outside.
She stood near her mailbox pretending to check something.
Marcus saw her.
Then he understood.
"Who called?"
Cole said nothing.
Marcus looked directly at Elaine.
"Her?"
Elaine immediately looked away.
Cole stepped closer.
"That doesn't concern you."
"It concerns me if my neighbor called the police because she saw me drinking coffee at my own house."
"You don't know why she called."
"Then tell me."
Cole's jaw tightened.
Marcus had spent years questioning witnesses.
He knew what discomfort looked like.
He knew what defensiveness looked like.
And he knew when someone had decided on a conclusion before asking the questions.
Ryan returned.
"House transferred three months ago."
Cole looked at him.
"To who?"
Ryan checked his screen.
"Marcus Ellison."
Cole turned slowly.
Marcus spread his hands.
"Good morning."
Ryan almost smiled.
Cole did not.
"Could still be somebody else."
Marcus stared at him.
"You have the owner's name."
"Name doesn't prove identity."
"Then let me retrieve the identification you ordered me to retrieve."
Cole stepped closer.
"Don't get smart."
Marcus's patience thinned.
"You've confirmed the property belongs to Marcus Ellison. I'm telling you I'm Marcus Ellison. My identification is twenty feet behind me. Every time I try to retrieve it, you tell me to stop. What exactly are you investigating now?"
Curtains moved in nearby houses.
A man two homes away stepped onto his driveway with his phone.
Elaine remained near the mailbox.
Cole didn't like the audience.