The second officer had already moved one hand toward his radio.
The lead officer glanced at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Confirming.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Confirming what?” the homeowner asked.
The partner ignored the question and keyed his shoulder microphone.
“Dispatch, Unit Twelve. Can you run the resident on the call address?”
Static crackled.
The lead officer looked irritated.
The homeowner said nothing.
Her clothes dripped onto the patio.
A stream of water ran toward the pool.
Somewhere beyond the hedges, a lawn mower hummed.
The scene should have felt absurd.
Instead, everybody seemed to understand that something important was about to happen.
Dispatch answered.
“Unit Twelve, stand by.”
The lead officer rolled his shoulders.
The homeowner looked directly at him.
He looked back with the confident expression of a man who still believed the next thirty seconds would vindicate him.
The radio crackled again.
“Unit Twelve, confirm the female’s name.”
The partner gave it.
There was a pause.
Longer this time.
The partner’s eyebrows drew together.
“Dispatch?”
Another burst of static.
Then:
“Unit Twelve, registered property owner matches. Female is listed as sole owner of the residence.”
The homeowner did not smile.
She only said:
“I told you.”
The lead officer’s grip tightened on the hose.
The partner looked at him.
“We’re good.”
The lead officer shook his head.
“Doesn’t explain the call.”
The homeowner’s eyes narrowed.
The partner keyed the radio again.
“Dispatch, anything else attached to her?”
Another pause.
Then a different voice came across.
A supervisor.
“Unit Twelve, who exactly do you have there?”
The partner repeated her name.
Silence.
The homeowner watched the partner’s face.
The color changed first.
Then his posture.
His shoulders lowered.
His free hand slowly moved away from his belt.
The supervisor returned.
“Unit Twelve, discontinue enforcement contact unless you have an independent basis. That resident is scheduled at Central Precinct this afternoon.”
The lead officer frowned.
“For what?”
The supervisor did not immediately answer.
The partner did.
Quietly.
“Oh, no.”
The lead officer turned.
“What?”
The partner stared at the soaked woman.
Then at his radio.
Then back at his partner.
“She’s the civilian investigator.”
The lead officer stopped moving.
The homeowner tilted her head slightly.
Nobody spoke.
The partner continued because apparently he could not stop himself.
“The independent review appointment.”
The lead officer’s face changed.
“What review?”
The answer came through the radio.
“Unit Twelve, she is the newly appointed independent civilian investigator assigned to the precinct conduct review. Preserve your body-camera footage. Do not leave the location. Supervisor en route.”