***
At the police department, the question was proving more difficult than anyone expected. The call had come through a nonemergency line and had been transferred to dispatch. The recording was preserved, but the caller had used a blocked number. The voice sounded adult and male. He described a young Black man in a gray sweatshirt near the north entrance and said he “didn't look like he belonged there.” When the dispatcher asked what the man was doing, the caller replied, “Just hanging around.” The dispatcher asked whether he had threatened anyone. The caller said no and hung up.
That recording undermined the first department statement. It did not describe a crime. It did not establish that Jordan was dangerous. It also raised a question about why Mercer had responded so aggressively to a vague report.
Investigators reviewed the computer-aided dispatch log. Mercer and Ruiz had been assigned to patrol a nearby commercial district. Mercer had volunteered to handle the call, though another unit was closer. That decision was not improper by itself. But the investigators noticed that Mercer had made similar voluntary responses to low-priority calls in the same area. Several had resulted in complaints that were later marked unsubstantiated.
Lieutenant Price asked the internal affairs investigator to examine those cases. The investigator, a woman named Evelyn Brooks, was cautious. She had seen departments damage their credibility by treating a notorious incident as proof that every earlier allegation was true. She insisted on reviewing each file independently.
One involved a seventeen-year-old student stopped while waiting for a ride outside a recreation center. Another involved a delivery driver questioned after parking near an apartment building. A third concerned a man walking home from a late shift who had been searched after declining to answer questions about where he lived. The facts differed. Some officers had followed procedure. Others had not. Mercer appeared in several reports, often as the supervising officer who approved the initial narrative.
Brooks requested the original body-camera files. She found that some recordings began after the first contact, even though policy required activation when an officer initiated an investigative detention. Mercer had written that equipment problems caused the delays. Maintenance records did not show corresponding failures.
She did not yet know whether those gaps were intentional. She knew they needed explanation.
The department placed Mercer on administrative leave pending the review. His attorney released a statement saying he had acted in good faith during a rapidly evolving encounter and that edited videos were being used to destroy a respected officer's career. The attorney urged the public to wait for the full evidence.
Nathan read the statement at home and set his phone down. Denise was preparing vegetables for dinner. Jordan sat at the counter, looking at a networking textbook without turning the page.
“Do you think he believes that?” Jordan asked.
“Believes what?” Nathan said.
“That he did nothing wrong.”
“I don't know what he believes.”
“He was there. He knows what he did.”
Nathan took a seat. “People can remember events in ways that protect their view of themselves. That doesn't make their version accurate.”
Jordan shut the textbook. “Everybody keeps telling me to wait for the investigation. I understand why. But I'm the one who was on the ground. I already know what happened to me.”
Denise put down the knife. “You can know what happened to you and still let the process do its work.”
“That's easy to say when the process doesn't have your face all over the internet.”
She nodded. “You're right. It is easier for me to say.”
That surprised him enough that he looked up.
Denise came around the counter. “I don't want you to feel like you have to be patient for everybody else's comfort. You're allowed to be angry. We just need to make sure the anger doesn't become the only thing you have left.”
Jordan leaned against her for a moment. It was the first time that week he had let himself be comforted without trying to sound older than nineteen.
***
A week after the park incident, Jordan met with an attorney named Vanessa Cole. She specialized in civil-rights cases and had been recommended by a family friend rather than by anyone at the FBI. Nathan attended the first meeting but told Vanessa he would leave if she preferred to speak privately with Jordan. Vanessa said she wanted Jordan to make that choice.
“Dad can stay,” Jordan said. “For now.”
Vanessa spread a legal pad across the table. “Before we talk about lawsuits, I want to know what you want.”
Jordan looked surprised. “Isn't that obvious?”
“Not always. Some clients want an apology. Some want policy changes. Some want compensation. Some want their names cleared. Most want several things, and those things don't always happen on the same schedule.”
Jordan considered the question. “I want the report corrected. I want him to stop doing this to people. And I want the department to say what happened without making it sound like I caused it.”
“Those are clear goals.”
“Do I have to sue?”
“No. You have choices. We'll discuss them carefully, including what each might cost you in time and attention.”
Vanessa explained that a civil case and an internal disciplinary process would be separate. A criminal investigation, if prosecutors decided one was warranted, would be separate again. She warned Jordan that the public attention could make every step harder. Witnesses might be contacted repeatedly. His private life might be examined. There would be long periods when nothing visible happened.
Jordan asked whether his father's position would help.
“It may make people more cautious,” Vanessa said. “It may also give the other side an argument that you received special treatment. We won't build your case around your father's title. We'll build it around what happened.”
Nathan nodded. “That's what I want.”
Vanessa looked at him. “And you need to remain outside any official investigative decisions.”
“I already have.”
“Good. Keep doing that.”
After the meeting, Jordan and Nathan walked to a nearby café. They sat at a small table by the window. Jordan ordered tea. Nathan ordered coffee, then hesitated when he saw Jordan's expression.
“You can have coffee,” Jordan said.
“I know.”
“I'm not going to avoid it forever.”
Nathan stirred his cup. “I wasn't sure.”
Jordan watched people crossing the street. “Everybody's treating me like I'm fragile.”
“Are they?”
“Mom checks on me every hour. My professors keep offering extensions. My friends don't know what to say. Even you keep asking whether I'm okay.”
Nathan set down his spoon. “What would you rather I ask?”
Jordan thought for a while. “Ask me about school. Ask whether I fixed that stupid network simulation. Ask if I want to go to the game on Saturday.”