"I haven't received an order."
Mercer stepped closer.
"That's not my problem."
Bennett glanced toward the front of the house.
The sidewalk was completely clear.
Drivers approaching the nearby intersection could see along the street without difficulty.
She looked back at the dispatch information.
There was no attached inspection photograph, no verified removal order, and no indication that an emergency existed.
Before she could ask Mercer for clarification, he stepped into the rose garden.
Then he kicked the first plant.
Talia stared at the broken stem beneath the sergeant's boot.
For a moment, she was too shocked to speak.
Then he kicked another rosebush, sending a shower of petals across the flowerbed.
She stepped forward.
"Officer, stop."
Mercer turned.
"Stay back."
"You're destroying my property."
He pointed toward her.
"You're interfering with city enforcement."
Talia took a slow breath.
She had spent years investigating complaints involving questionable police conduct.
She knew how quickly a minor dispute could become dangerous when someone in authority interpreted ordinary questions as defiance.
So she kept her hands visible.
She didn't touch Mercer.
And she didn't attempt to physically stop him.
Instead, she asked for his name and the legal basis for the removal.
Mercer's expression darkened.
"You think you can interrogate me?"
"No, Sergeant. I'm asking what authorizes you to destroy these flowers."
He laughed.
"Maybe you should've followed the warnings."
Talia glanced toward the house.
"My mother didn't receive a lawful removal order."
Mercer pointed toward the roses.
"The homeowner has been notified repeatedly."
Talia's stomach tightened.
"The homeowner?"
"That's right."
"What's the homeowner's name?"
He glanced at the dispatch screen on his handheld device.
"Lorraine Monroe."
For several seconds, Talia felt the world become strangely quiet.
Then she looked directly at him.
"Lorraine Monroe is dead."
Mercer frowned.
"Don't start lying."
"My mother died eleven months ago."
He stared.
Then gave a contemptuous laugh.
"Convenient."
Talia felt anger rising.
She'd buried her mother.
Signed the estate documents.
And spent nearly a year trying to accept the loss.
Now a police officer was standing in Lorraine's garden accusing her daughter of inventing the death.
Talia took a careful breath.
"You can verify the death record and the current deed."
Mercer shook his head.
"I'm not playing games."
Then he kicked another rosebush.
Bennett stepped forward.
"Sergeant, we should verify the property records."
Mercer turned sharply.
"Officer Bennett, I have the situation under control."
She hesitated.
"The notice may have outdated ownership information."
He pointed toward Talia.
"She's trying to distract us."
Bennett glanced toward the Black woman's face.
Talia looked furious.
But she wasn't threatening anyone.
Her hands remained visible.
She had been answering questions.