“In what?”
Danielle held his gaze.
“The United States Army.”
Mercer gave a short laugh.
It was not loud.
But it was enough.
Danielle’s expression changed.
Very slightly.
“You find that funny?”
“I’ve met a lot of people who say a lot of things when police show up.”
Danielle nodded once.
“That’s probably true.”
Mercer waited.
Danielle said nothing else.
“ID.”
“Inside.”
“Then tell me something only the homeowner would know.”
Danielle stared at him.
“That is not an identification procedure.”
Mercer’s eyes narrowed.
“You a lawyer now too?”
“Yes.”
The younger officer looked at her sweatshirt.
GEORGETOWN LAW.
Then at Mercer.
Mercer noticed.
“Oh, come on.”
Danielle took another drink.
“I’m beginning to understand why this is taking so long.”
Mercer stepped closer.
“Watch your attitude.”
“My attitude is calm.”
“You’re being uncooperative.”
“I have answered every question relevant to why you’re here.”
“You haven’t shown ID.”
“You have not established that I am legally required to.”
Mercer pointed toward her chest.
“See, this is what people do when they think they know the law.”
Danielle looked at his finger.
Then at him.
“Sergeant, lower your hand.”
Mercer blinked.
“You don’t give me orders.”
“No. I asked you to stop pointing inches from my body.”
Linda Harper had moved closer.
Several other neighbors were now outside.
An elderly man stood beside his driveway with folded arms.
A woman two houses away was recording with her phone.
Danielle noticed.
So did Mercer.
His shoulders changed.
He became louder.
Public audiences often made insecure authority more rigid.
“Ma’am, step away from the house.”
“No.”
Mercer stared.
“No?”
“This is my home.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You can verify it.”
“How?”
“Run the address.”
Mercer did not answer.
“Check county property records.”
Silence.
“Run the vehicle in the garage.”
Mercer’s jaw tightened.
“Stop telling me how to do my job.”
“I’m giving you three ways to resolve your uncertainty.”
“You’re making this harder.”
Danielle glanced at the younger officer.
His nameplate read:
WALSH.
“Officer Walsh.”
Walsh looked up.
“Ma’am?”
“Can you verify the property record?”
Mercer turned sharply.
“She’s talking to me.”
Danielle looked back at him.
“Then verify it.”
“You don’t control this interaction.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“You clearly are.”
Danielle exhaled slowly.
She had dealt with angry commanders.
Terrified witnesses.
Hostile opposing counsel.
Parents being told their children had been arrested.
Soldiers facing investigations that could end careers.
Foreign officials who believed volume was equivalent to authority.
She knew escalation.