"Put your hands behind your back."
Marcus went still.
"For what?"
"Failure to comply."
"With which command?"
Cole reached toward his belt.
Marcus did not move.
"You need to think carefully about your next decision."
Cole stepped onto the same level of the porch.
"You threatening me?"
"No."
Marcus looked briefly toward Cole's body camera.
"I'm making sure you understand you're creating a record."
Cole laughed.
"You people always think saying 'record' magically changes things."
The words hung in the air.
Marcus tilted his head.
"You people?"
Cole's face changed.
Ryan looked at him.
Cole realized his mistake.
"I meant people who argue during police contacts."
"No," Marcus said. "You didn't."
Cole pointed at him.
"That's enough."
Marcus looked at the finger.
"Take your hand away from my face."
"Or what?"
Marcus looked toward Ryan.
"Officer Mercer, your body camera is running?"
Ryan nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
Cole turned sharply.
"Don't answer him."
Ryan looked at his partner.
"Why not?"
For the first time, something cracked between the two officers.
Cole stared at Ryan.
Marcus saw it.
The balance had shifted.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Marcus stepped backward.
"I'm going to retrieve my wallet."
Cole reached for his arm.
Marcus pulled away.
"Do not touch me."
"Hands behind your back!"
Marcus stopped.
"No."
Ryan stepped forward.
"Brad, stop."
Cole looked stunned.
"What?"
"The address checks out."
"That doesn't mean—"
"He offered ID."
"We don't know—"
"We do."
Ryan pointed toward the house.
"He's the owner."
Marcus said nothing.
Cole's face flushed.
"You're going to tell me how to do my job now?"
Ryan's voice remained quiet.
"No. I'm telling you we're escalating over nothing."
Cole looked at him as though he had betrayed him.
Marcus walked inside.
Cole started forward.
"Don't you dare—"
Ryan blocked him.
"He's getting his ID."
Thirty seconds later, Marcus returned.
He held a black leather wallet.
He handed over his Georgia driver's license.
Ryan looked at it.
MARCUS DAVID ELLISON.
Address:
1187 Maple Crest Drive.
Ryan handed it to Cole.
Cole stared at the card.
Then at the house.
Then at Marcus.
There was no ambiguity left.
Marcus extended his hand.
"My license."
Cole held it.
"What's your occupation?"
Marcus looked at him.
"That information isn't necessary to establish residency."
"I'm asking."
Marcus reached into the pocket of his hoodie.
Cole immediately stiffened.
"Hands!"
Marcus froze.
"You asked what I do."
"Take your hand out slowly."
Marcus did.
He held a leather credential wallet.
He opened it.
A gold seal caught the morning light.
Cole looked down.
The words were unmistakable.
UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
ASSISTANT UNITED STATES ATTORNEY
MARCUS D. ELLISON
Ryan's eyes widened.
Cole stood motionless.
Marcus closed the wallet.
"I'm the federal prosecutor who owns the house you're standing on."
Silence.
Elaine stood frozen across the street.
Cole finally spoke.
"You should've led with that."
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
Cole frowned.