He doesn't call his own chain of command first. Not unless he already has a fair guess what that chain of command is going to say. Pierce was watching Hutchkins, too. Norah caught the look on his face somewhere between confusion and dread. The look of a young man realizing the ground under his job might not be as solid as he'd been told it was.
He didn't say anything. Not yet. But he kept glancing toward the porch like he was trying to memorize every detail of what was happening in case it mattered later. It would matter later. Norah just didn't know yet how much.
Hutchkins paced beside his patrol car, phone pressed tight against his ear now, his voice low, the words lost across the distance of the yard. The other three officers held their positions, forming a loose perimeter that kept the sisters isolated on the porch, watching, waiting. Pierce shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes moving between the badges still visible in the sister's hands and Hutchkins's agitated phone call. Sweat gathered under his collar despite the cool evening air. Sergeant Pierce called out his voice tentative.
Maybe we should verify through dispatch. Standard procedure for federal credentials is Hutchkins's head snapped toward him, phone still against his ear, his free hand cut through the air in a sharp silencing gesture. Pierce's mouth closed with an almost audible click. He looked down at his boots. Boyd moved closer to the porch steps, pulling out his phone, aiming the camera toward Norah's open credential case.
"Hey, " Norah said, pulling the badge back against her chest. "What do you think you're doing? " Boyd grinned without any warmth in it at all. "Documenting evidence. These fake badges are going to look real nice in the police report.
" He raised the phone again, angling for a clean shot of Vivien's credentials. Vivien turned her body, shielding the identification from the lens. Those are official federal documents, she said. You don't have authorization to photograph them. I've got authorization to photograph anything relevant to my investigation, Boyd said.
And these fake badges are real relevant. Doyle watched all of this with growing unease. Hands clasped behind his back, eyes moving between Hutchkins and the porch, like a man watching a match he couldn't predict the outcome of. Whatever confidence he'd carried into that yard was fading fast, replaced by the careful posture of someone who could feel trouble coming and didn't know yet how to stop it. Vivien's voice cut through the tension, calm, steady, deliberate.
Officer Boyd, I want to make something very clear. Every word being spoken right now is being recorded. Multiple cameras mounted on this house. Boyd's phone lowered slightly. What cameras?