For several seconds, nobody understood.
Then Marcus said:
“A setup?”
“You intentionally brought his vehicle here.”
Marcus stared.
Wade stared.
Tom laughed openly from across the street.
Pamela pointed between them.
“You knew I had concerns about vehicle compliance.”
Marcus looked toward Wade.
Wade looked back.
Then Marcus said:
“You think we planted a Rolls-Royce in my driveway hoping you'd attack it?”
Pamela heard how insane it sounded only after someone else repeated it.
She did not retreat.
“The timing is suspicious.”
Wade spoke quietly.
“My wife owned this car.”
Pamela stopped.
“Owned?”
“She died.”
The entire driveway changed.
Wade continued:
“I drove it here for dinner last night.”
Pamela’s eyes dropped.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not relevant.”
“I didn't know.”
“That’s becoming a theme.”
Wade walked toward the front passenger window.
He picked a glass fragment from the door seal.
Pamela looked at Marcus.
Something complicated crossed her face.
Not remorse.
Not yet.
Fear.
She understood finally that the car's owner being law enforcement did not merely embarrass her.
It created consequences.
That scared her.
Marcus almost wished the owner had been anybody else.
Because the lesson should never have depended on whose property she destroyed.
Wade apparently thought the same.
He turned toward the deputy.
“I’m the complainant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m not directing charges.”
The deputy nodded.
“Understood.”
Pamela looked surprised.
Wade continued:
“Handle it like anybody else's vehicle.”
Marcus appreciated that.
Wade added:
“And make sure the bodycam has been running since arrival.”
“Yes, sir.”
Pamela looked toward the deputy’s chest.
Red light.
Her face changed again.
Recording.
Everything recorded.
She glanced toward Marcus’s phone.
Recording.
Tom’s phone.
Recording.
The woman two houses down.
Recording.
For someone who had always preferred unrecorded porch conversations, Pamela had chosen a terrible morning to become dramatic.
The deputy asked:
“Ms. Whitmore, where did you get the bat?”
“My garage.”
“You brought it here intentionally?”
Pamela hesitated.
Marcus watched.
That question mattered.
She knew it too.
“I brought it because I anticipated resistance.”
Wade’s eyebrows rose.
Marcus stared.
The deputy paused writing.
“Resistance from whom?”
Pamela realized again.
Too late.
“Not physical resistance.”
“What kind?”
“Noncompliance.”
“So you brought a bat because you expected the homeowner not to follow your demand?”
“It was symbolic.”
Marcus whispered:
“Wow.”
Pamela spun.
“Stop.”
Wade looked toward Marcus.
Marcus raised one hand.
“Sorry.”
The deputy continued.
“Did you intend to damage the vehicle when you left your home with the bat?”
Pamela’s confidence weakened.
“I intended enforcement.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
“I don't remember precisely what I intended.”