The binder grew.
Micah stopped riding.
The bike remained inside the garage beside a rake and two storage bins.
Each morning before school, he walked past it.
Each afternoon, he did the same.
Darius noticed and never told him to get back on.
One Saturday morning, Micah stood in the garage staring at the handlebars.
“You thinking about riding?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Micah looked toward him. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You’re not going to tell me I can’t let them win?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Darius leaned against the workbench. “Because riding again has to belong to you.”
Micah looked toward the open garage door.
“I hate being scared of my own bike.”
Darius nodded.
“I know.”
The bike stayed where it was.
Two weeks after Darius filed the complaint, patrol unit 237 appeared near the entrance to Hawthorn Glen Drive.
Micah noticed first.
“Dad.”
Darius looked through the upstairs window.
Jared Benson sat inside.
No emergency lights.
No visible call.
Engine running.
He remained there forty-seven minutes.
Darius did not approach him.
He took photographs from inside the house.
Time-stamped.
Vehicle number visible.
Then he called the department’s nonemergency line.
“There is a marked patrol unit parked at Hawthorn Glen and Brookstone Parkway.”
The dispatcher sounded confused. “Sir, that’s a police vehicle.”
“I know.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It has been stationary without a visible call for approximately forty minutes.”
“That isn’t necessarily unusual.”
“No.”
Darius paused.
“The officer driving it is the subject of an active Professional Standards complaint filed by my family.”
The dispatcher stopped talking for several seconds.
“I’ll create an informational call.”
“Reference number?”
She gave one.
Darius wrote it down.
Benson left seven minutes later.
Three days after that, he returned.
Twenty-nine minutes this time.
Darius photographed again.
Called again.
Logged again.
The third time, Benson parked farther away and walked toward the Turners’ mailbox.
He never touched it.
He stood looking toward the house for approximately twelve seconds before returning to his cruiser.
Their neighbor’s doorbell camera captured everything.
Darius obtained the file that evening.
Tanya watched it twice.
“This is intimidation.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I want facts before labels.”
She stared at him. “How can you still talk like that?”