“Sergeant, what exactly was the reported offense?”
Mercer narrowed his eyes. “You need to back up.”
Nathan stopped once more. “I asked what offense was reported.”
“You interfering with my investigation?”
“No.”
“Then stop questioning me.”
Nathan’s eyes moved toward the body camera attached to Mercer’s chest. A small red light showed that it was recording.
“Your camera is active?”
Mercer glanced down at it. “Why?”
“Because I want that recording preserved.”
Something about Nathan’s wording made Mercer uneasy. He studied him more carefully. The suit appeared expensive, but understated. No visible badge. No obvious security detail. No government lapel pin. Nothing except confidence.
Mercer had dealt with confident men before. It did not impress him.
“You think being his father means you’re going to intimidate me?”
Nathan looked directly into his eyes. “No. I think the evidence will take care of that by itself.”
Jordan swallowed. He knew that tone. Nathan used it whenever he had moved beyond emotion and into analysis. That usually meant somebody was about to discover exactly how serious their situation had become.
The second patrol officer at the scene, Officer Megan Ruiz, had remained near the cruiser since Mercer first approached Jordan. She had looked uncomfortable for several minutes, but Mercer outranked her and had taken control of the encounter before she fully understood what was happening.
Now she moved closer.
“Sergeant.”
Mercer looked over. “What?”
“Maybe we should bring him up.”
“No.”
“He’s secure.”
“I said no.”
Ruiz glanced toward the witnesses. Then toward Nathan. “We can finish the investigation with him standing.”
Mercer’s voice sharpened. “Officer Ruiz, go manage the crowd.”
She stopped where she was. Nathan watched the exchange carefully. Jordan watched as well.
Mercer had not simply lost patience with a teenager. He was becoming defensive toward everyone around him.
Nathan slowly reached inside his jacket.
Mercer reacted instantly.
“Hands!”
“Hands!”
Sergeant Alan Mercer had shouted the word so sharply that a flock of birds lifted from the grass beyond the fountain. Nathan Ellis stopped moving. His right hand was still near the inside of his jacket, where he had intended to retrieve his identification. He opened his fingers and held both hands where Mercer could see them.
“I'm not reaching for a weapon,” Nathan said. “I'm going to identify myself. I'd prefer to do that without making this worse.”
“Then keep your hands out where I can see them.”
“I will.”
Jordan's face was still turned against the ground. From that angle he could see his father's shoes and the bottom half of the woman's leather portfolio. He could also see a patch of sunlight shifting across the concrete as the branches moved overhead. It was a strange detail to notice while an officer held his arm behind his back, but Jordan would remember that shifting light long after the incident was over.
The woman beside Nathan spoke. “Sergeant, my name is Special Agent Claire Donovan. My credentials are in my left inside pocket. May I show them to you?”
Mercer glanced at her. “You can tell me anything you want. Doesn't make it true.”
“That's why we have credentials,” she replied.
Officer Megan Ruiz stepped closer. “Sergeant, I can verify them. And I think we need to get him off the ground.”
Mercer ignored her. His attention had fixed on Nathan, whose composure seemed to offend him more than shouting would have. “You don't get to walk up to my stop and take over.”
“I'm not taking it over,” Nathan said. “I'm asking for a supervisor who isn't involved in the detention.”
“I am the supervisor.”
“Then request another one.”
A woman near the stroller said, “Please. He's been down there for a while.”
Mercer looked toward the witnesses again. The man beside the green bench was still filming. So were two teenagers on the other side of the walkway. A cyclist had stopped and was quietly telling a dispatcher what he had seen. Mercer could hear fragments of the call: officer, young man, no weapon, crowd watching.
Ruiz crouched a few feet from Jordan, keeping her hands visible. “Jordan, can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
“My shoulder hurts. I can breathe.”
She looked up. “Sergeant, we need to adjust his position.”