“I paid for half that chicken myself.”
Price laughed.
Sloan pointed toward the buffet.
“Health hazard.”
Renee stepped forward.
“What?”
“Food uncovered in public heat.”
“It was covered until thirty seconds ago.”
Sloan looked toward Price.
“Dispose of it.”
He swept one arm across the table.
Everything crashed.
Containers split open on concrete.
Chicken scattered beneath chairs.
A bowl of potato salad overturned near a stroller.
The sound of children crying replaced the music.
Then the cake went over.
Elijah screamed.
“My cake!”
Renee lunged forward.
Adrian caught her gently around the arm.
“Not yet,” he whispered.
She looked at him with disbelief.
“They destroyed his cake.”
“I know.”
“Adrian—”
“I know.”
Price moved toward the gift table.
He flipped it.
Boxes fell.
Wrapping paper tore.
Elijah’s presents hit the ground.
One officer stepped directly onto a package.
Parents began recording with phones.
Sloan noticed.
“Phones down.”
Nobody moved.
She pointed toward a man named Thomas Reed.
“Put it away.”
Thomas held his phone higher.
“This is public property.”
Sloan stepped toward him.
“You want to test how public the county jail is?”
Thomas slowly lowered the phone.
He did not stop recording.
Adrian understood the tactic.
Humiliation first.
Reaction second.
Charges third.
The unit depended on people becoming angry enough to justify whatever paperwork followed.
Sloan turned toward Adrian.
He had remained too calm.
That interested her.
She walked toward him.
“You’re the father?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Derrick Lawson.”
His cover name.
Sloan studied him.
“Occupation?”
“Construction.”
“Of course.”
Adrian said nothing.
Sloan stepped closer.
“You know what bothers me about you?”
“No.”
“You’re too comfortable.”
Adrian looked at her.
She smiled.
“Most men understand when police arrive, the conversation changes.”
“It did.”
“Then why are you standing there like I’m your equal?”
Renee’s face changed.
Adrian stayed still.
“Because you asked me a question.”
Sloan stared at him.
“So you’re smart.”
“No.”
He looked toward Elijah.
“Just trying to get through my son’s birthday.”
Sloan followed his eyes.
Elijah was crying beside the destroyed cake.
Something almost pleased her.
“You should teach your son better lessons.”
Adrian looked back at her.
“What lesson?”
“That rules matter.”
Adrian gestured toward the folder.
“We have a reservation.”
Sloan laughed.