Whitaker walked toward Rivers with Barrett behind him. Rivers watched them approach and set his box down, straightening up and giving them his full attention. "What are you doing in this building?" Whitaker asked, his tone carrying the same energy Lane's had, the assumption of guilt presented as routine inquiry. Rivers looked at him with calm directness.
"I'm moving into apartment 4C. Is there a problem?" "We got a call about a suspicious individual in the building," Whitaker said. "We need to verify that you actually live here." ""That's fine," Rivers said. "Give me one moment."
He opened his apartment door, went inside, and returned thirty seconds later with a gray folder. He opened it and handed Whitaker the deed to apartment 4C, registered in the name of Malcolm Rivers, along with his proof of ownership documentation showing the purchase was completed six weeks earlier. The paperwork was thorough, official, and completely legitimate. Whitaker took the documents and looked through them. Barrett looked over his shoulder.
From down the hallway, Lane watched with her arms crossed. And when Whitaker didn't immediately move to arrest Rivers, she called out, "Those are probably fake. I've been here twelve years, and I know when someone moves in and nobody told me anything about a black man buying into this building. Those documents are not real." Whitaker looked up from the papers and something shifted in his expression.
The moment a man who has already made his decision finds the justification he needed. He looked at Rivers. "She raises a fair point. These could be fraudulent documents." Rivers kept his voice even.
"They're not fraudulent. Everything in that folder is legitimate and verifiable. If you have any doubt, call the number printed on the deed. The building management company is listed right there. Call them and they'll confirm the purchase."