He hooked his thumbs into his duty belt. Right. Your daughter's house. In Oakridge Estates. Look, buddy, we've had a string of residential burglaries in this sector over the past 3 weeks.
Guys driving through in luxury cars looking like they belong, scoping out houses, snatching packages, testing doors. I assure you I am not scoping out houses, David said, his tone dropping an octave. A hint of his formidable courtroom presence beginning to bleed through his casual exterior. If you'd like, I can ring the doorbell. My daughter is inside on a Zoom call, but I'm sure she'd be happy to verify.
Do not move toward that house, Mitchell snapped, unsnapping the retention holster on his firearm. The sound was a loud sharp snap that made baby Chloe shriek louder from the back seat. You are going to keep your hands exactly where they are. Officer Reed, looking slightly pale, finally spoke up. Sir, do you have identification on you?
My wallet is in the center console of the vehicle, David said, looking directly at the rookie. I can retrieve it for you slowly or you can retrieve it yourself. But I'd appreciate it if you lowered your voice. You're terrifying my granddaughter. Mitchell wasn't having it.
The idea that a suspect was dictating the terms of the stop infuriated him. He marched forward, grabbing David roughly by the shoulder and spinning him around. Hey! David's voice boomed, sharp and authoritative, ringing with the kind of absolute command that usually silenced crowded courtrooms. But out here on the street, Mitchell held the gavel.
Put your hands on the vehicle. Spread your feet, Mitchell yelled, shoving David against the side of his own Audi. The metal was cold against David's cheek. Humiliation flared hot in his chest, followed immediately by a cold calculating anger. He could see the curtain twitching in the house across the street.
Mrs. Gable, the neighborhood gossip, was undoubtedly watching the scene unfold, assuming the worst about the Black man pinned against a car in her pristine neighborhood. You are making a profound mistake, David said quietly, his cheek pressed to the glass of the rear passenger window. Inside, Chloe was wailing, her tiny face red with distress. Shut up, Mitchell hissed, kicking David's feet further apart and beginning a rough invasive pat down of his sweatpants. Reed, get the ID from the center console.
Let's see who this guy really is. Officer Tyler Reed hesitated. He looked at David who was offering zero physical resistance and then at the crying infant in the backseat. The situation felt wrong to him. The man didn't act like a burglar caught in the act.
He didn't have the twitchy adrenaline-fueled panic of a criminal. He was perfectly still exuding a quiet, terrifying patience. Reed, move. Mitchell barked, pulling David's arms back and holding them in a painful grip. Reed quickly ducked into the driver's side of the Audi.