That ended the conversation.
Patricia pulled out her phone.
“Fine.”
I knew exactly what was coming.
“You’re calling the police?”
“If that’s what I have to do.”
Nolan looked toward the sky.
“Please do.”
I pointed at him.
“Nolan.”
He raised both hands.
“I said nothing.”
Patricia called 911.
Five or six minutes later, we heard sirens.
It is difficult to explain how quickly a relaxed backyard changes when you know police are coming because somebody has described you as dangerous. The beers went onto the table. Darius put his phone down where both hands could remain visible. Nobody moved toward the gate.
Terrence looked at me.
“You handle this.”
“That was already the plan.”
Nolan’s joking expression disappeared.
“What if she says somebody threatened her?”
“Then we tell the truth once.”
Darius nodded.
“And don’t give anybody extra material.”
Exactly.
Two patrol cars stopped in front of my house.
A third arrived less than a minute later.
The first officer through the side gate looked young enough to still get carded at restaurants. His nameplate said Officer Walker. Behind him came Sergeant Victor Shaw, who had been on the department longer than most people on his shift.
Patricia hurried toward them.
“Thank God you’re here.”
Shaw raised one hand.
“Ma’am, stay right there.”
“They threatened me.”
The sergeant stopped just inside the yard.
His eyes moved across the patio.
Four men.
Food.
One cooler.
One grill.
Four folding chairs.
No broken property.
No weapons.
No screaming.
No fight.
His eyes reached me.
There was a short pause.
Recognition.
Officer Walker did not notice it.
Patricia did.
Shaw addressed me calmly.
“Sir, is this your home?”
“Yes.”
“You the legal owner?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward Patricia.
“Did you invite Ms. Langford back here?”
“No.”
Patricia interrupted.
“I am HOA president.”
Shaw looked at her.
“I understand that.”
“There was a disturbance.”
“What disturbance?”
“They were yelling.”
Terrence whispered, “Football discussion.”
I glanced at him.
He shut his mouth.
Shaw continued.
“Did anybody threaten you before you entered the yard?”
“The entire situation felt threatening.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Patricia folded her arms.
“They were drinking.”
“Adults can drink alcohol on private property.”
“They were using foul language.”
Shaw looked at me.
I shrugged.
“Nolan called Pittsburgh trash.”
Nolan pointed at me. “I said their secondary was trash.”
Officer Walker turned away for half a second.
I could tell he was trying not to smile.
Patricia threw up both hands.
“You see this?”
Shaw took a breath.
“Mr. Holloway, did you ask her to leave?”
“Yes.”
Patricia interrupted again.
“He doesn’t have the authority to remove an HOA representative while she’s investigating a complaint.”
Shaw looked directly at her.
“He owns the property.”
“I represent the community.”
“This yard is not community property.”
Patricia stared at him.