“Was I the woman?”
“Yes.”
“Was the house mine?”
“We know that now.”
“You knew it before you threatened arrest.”
Keller did not answer.
Nadine continued.
“Your partner verified it.”
“You kept challenging the investigation.”
“The investigation had ended.”
“That’s your opinion.”
“No.”
Nadine’s voice became cooler.
“That is the factual question.”
Keller looked toward Barrett.
Barrett said nothing.
Nadine asked, “Am I free to go inside my house?”
Keller hesitated.
The hesitation said more than she wanted it to.
Then he nodded.
“Yes.”
Nadine picked up her coffee.
“Thank you.”
She turned.
“Ma’am.”
She looked back.
Keller’s tone had changed again.
“If you decide to file some complaint about this, make sure you include the whole interaction.”
Nadine gave him the first genuine smile of the afternoon.
“I assure you, Sergeant.”
She opened her door.
“I am extremely interested in complete records.”
Then she walked inside.
The moment the door closed, her hands began shaking.
Nadine placed the coffee mug on the entry table before she dropped it. She leaned against the wall, pressed both palms flat against the paint, and concentrated on breathing slowly while adrenaline moved through her body like electricity. She had cross-examined organized-crime defendants, argued detention hearings involving credible threats, and once continued a trial after learning a witness had discussed finding her home address.
None of that mattered.
Her body knew that a man carrying a gun and government authority had been seconds from handcuffing her outside her home.
Understanding constitutional law did not erase that.
Anger arrived after fear.
Sharp.
Hot.
Clean.
Nadine walked into the kitchen, opened a notebook she normally used for grocery lists, and began writing.
12:59.
Police arrival.
Initial request to come down.
Suspicious-person call.
Identification request.
1:04.
Address confirmed.
1:05.
Vehicle confirmed.
No warrants.
Continued questioning.
Occupation request.
Obstruction statement.
Handcuffs.
Credential return.
Release.
She wrote exact language whenever she remembered it.
Then her doorbell rang.
Nadine froze.
Her security monitor showed Elaine Mercer standing alone.
The police cruiser remained parked at the curb.
Nadine considered ignoring her.
Instead, she opened the door halfway.
Elaine’s eyes were red.
“I am so sorry.”
Nadine said nothing.
Elaine twisted both hands together.
“I made the call.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
Nadine stared.
Elaine heard the sentence after saying it.
“Oh, God.”
She covered her mouth.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then tell me what you meant.”
Elaine looked toward her own house.
“I saw someone go through your side gate.”
“You saw me.”
“I know now.”
“You know me.”
“I hadn’t seen you for a while.”
“I travel.”
“I know.”