“His brother.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Right now, that’s enough.”
Sirens sounded beyond the recreation building.
Somebody had called 911.
Renee emerged from near the restrooms and froze at the rim.
“Isaiah!”
He looked up.
“I’m okay.”
Then she saw Jalen on the ground.
“What happened?”
Jalen stood slowly.
“I’m fine.”
Renee descended the shallow steps into the bowl.
Holloway stopped struggling.
Isaiah released pressure but remained close enough to intervene if the officer reached for a weapon again.
Two Riverton patrol officers entered through the park gate.
The first was Officer Megan Ruiz, eight years on the department.
She saw Holloway on the ground beneath a shirtless man.
Her hand went toward her holster.
“Get off him!”
Isaiah looked directly at her.
“I will.”
“Now!”
“I’m going to stand slowly.”
“Hands where I can see them!”
Isaiah moved his hands away from Holloway.
He stood.
Ruiz pointed him toward the wall.
“Turn around.”
Isaiah complied.
A second officer, Caleb Morrison, approached Jalen.
Renee immediately moved beside her son.
“He is a minor. I’m his mother.”
Morrison nodded.
“Okay.”
Ruiz reached for Isaiah’s wrist.
He spoke before she touched him.
“Officer, I have federal credentials in the back right pocket of my shorts.”
Ruiz paused.
The crowd went quiet enough for people at the rim to hear.
“What?”
“Federal credentials.”
“Which agency?”
Isaiah looked over his shoulder.
“FBI.”
Nobody spoke for nearly two seconds.
Ruiz stared at him.
Holloway sat upright.
“What?”
Isaiah repeated it.
“Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Ruiz looked toward Holloway, then back.
“Do not reach for them.”
“I won’t.”
“Where exactly?”
“Back right pocket. Leather credential case.”
Ruiz told Morrison to retrieve it.
Morrison approached cautiously.
He removed a small black leather case.
Opened it.
His expression changed.
The gold shield caught sunlight.
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
Beneath it was Isaiah’s identification.
SPECIAL AGENT ISAIAH D. BROOKS