Fair enough. But if that cop keeps bothering you, tell me. Like I said, my dad's an attorney. Meanwhile, across town, Officer Grayson was beginning his shift with a new mission. He'd spent the previous evening searching social media for information about the King family, but found little.
Angela King had a basic Facebook profile with minimal posts and no photos of her husband. Jaylen didn't appear to have any social media presence at all, unusual for a teenager. Grayson started his patrol in the Cedar Street area, driving slowly past the King residence. It looked quiet, ordinary. Nothing to suggest a special forces operative lived there.
He parked down the block and approached an elderly woman working in her garden. "Good morning, ma'am," he said, flashing his most charming smile. "Officer Grayson, just checking in on the neighborhood. How long have you lived here?" "Going on 30 years," she replied proudly.
So you must know most of your neighbors. The kings down at 1742. What's their story? The woman Martha Jenkins straightened up wiping dirt from her hands. Angela's a dear works at the hospital.
The boy Jalen, he's quiet but polite. Always offers to shovel my walk in winter. And Mr. King Isaiah, right? Martha's expression turned thoughtful.
He's away a lot. Military, I think, though Angela doesn't talk about it. Very private family. Military, huh? Any idea what branch or what he does?
Martha shook her head. Like I said, they're private. Isaiah comes and goes. Sometimes he's home for months, then gone just as long. Nice man, though.
Fixed my porch steps last spring when he was home. Grayson nodded, filing the information away. Thanks for your time, ma'am. Just getting to know the community. As he continued his inquiries throughout the day, the pattern repeated.
Neighbors knew the kings, but had little specific information about Isaiah. He was rarely seen, always working away, but no one seemed to know exactly what he did. That evening, Grayson sat in his cruiser outside the king residence, watching the house from a distance. The lights were on and what he assumed was the kitchen. Through the window, he could see Angela moving around, and occasionally Jallen passed by.
No sign of a third family member. Grayson's radio crackled. Unit 4. What's your 20? Cedar Street, he replied.
Just finishing patrol. Copy that. Shift's almost over. Head in for debrief. Grayson started the engine, but took one last look at the King house before driving away.
The boy's claim still bothered him. Special forces? It seemed far-fetched, yet no one in the neighborhood could confirm or deny it. The mystery only fueled his curiosity. Later that night, Angela King's phone rang just after midnight.