Jordan looked at Ortiz with sudden hope. Hale looked at him with open irritation.
“You supervising my stop now?” Hale asked. Ortiz answered carefully. “I’m trying to stop this from becoming something it doesn’t need to become.”
That sentence landed badly. Hale pulled Jordan away from the railing and twisted his left arm behind his back. Jordan panicked.
“Wait, what am I under arrest for?” Hale reached for his cuffs. “Obstruction.”
“What did I obstruct?” Jordan shouted. Hale forced the wrist higher.
“Stop moving.” Jordan’s voice cracked. “I’m not moving.”
The first cuff closed. Ortiz stepped forward. “Hale, hold on.”
Hale ignored him and secured the second cuff. Jordan stood on his own front sidewalk with both wrists restrained behind him, textbooks and pencils scattered around his shoes. The delivery driver across the street continued recording.
Then a woman’s voice cut through the scene. “He lives there.” Everyone turned.
Grace Monroe stood beside the neighboring stoop with her terrier’s leash wrapped around one wrist. She had lived next door for twelve years and had known Jordan since he still carried a superhero lunchbox to elementary school. “That is Alicia’s son,” she said.
Hale pointed toward her. “Ma’am, stay back.” Grace laughed once in disbelief.
“You’re handcuffing a child at his own front door.” Hale told her to leave the police investigation alone.
Grace remained where she was. “Press the doorbell.” Hale looked away.
Another neighbor had joined the delivery driver. Two phones now pointed toward the officers. What began as a suspicious-person response was becoming a public demonstration of how many facts Hale seemed willing to ignore.
Ortiz finally lifted his radio. “Dispatch, can you run resident information on 226 Carlton Terrace?” Hale turned toward him sharply.
“Daniel.” Ortiz pressed the button anyway.
The dispatcher returned after several seconds. “Occupant records show Alicia Ellis and dependent Jordan Ellis at that address.” Ortiz looked directly at Hale.
Jordan closed his eyes for a second. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Ortiz nodded toward the cuffs. “Take them off.” Hale did not move.
Instead, the reason changed. “Address doesn’t mean he wasn’t checking the other houses.” Jordan opened his eyes.
“You said I was lying about living here.” Hale looked toward him.
“Watch the attitude.” Jordan gave a short disbelieving laugh.
“You just keep changing what I did.” Three different phones captured the sentence.
Ortiz stepped between Hale and Jordan. “What actual behavior are you investigating now?” Hale answered, “Suspicious activity.”
“What activity?” Ortiz asked. Hale looked down the street.
Jordan said, “Walking home?” Hale turned sharply.
“One more comment and I’ll add disorderly conduct.” Ortiz stared at him.
“Don’t.” Hale looked back. “What?”
“Don’t create a charge because he questioned you.” The words landed heavily.
A voice suddenly came over Ortiz’s radio. “Unit 512, precinct supervisor wants your exact location immediately.” Ortiz replied, “Carlton Terrace at Dean.”