“What appearance standard?” he asked.
Denise blinked.
“The vehicle restriction.”
“Could you show me the rule?”
“It’s in the handbook.”
“Which section?”
“I’m not required to recite the handbook to you.”
“Then perhaps you could point me to it.”
Her mouth tightened.
“You’ll receive a violation notice.”
“I’ll read it when it arrives.”
“You are receiving one now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll wait for the written notice.”
Denise’s finger returned to the air between them.
“You are not going to dismiss me.”
Marcus met her gaze.
“I’m not dismissing you. I’m asking you to identify the rule you say I violated.”
The delivery worker shifted his weight near the curb. Tyler looked toward the street, perhaps hoping someone else would arrive and interrupt the scene.
Denise took another step forward.
“Move this trash off my street, or I’ll have both you and the car hauled away.”
Marcus’s voice remained level.
“Touch my car, and you’d better be ready to explain yourself to the police.”
Denise gave a triumphant little laugh and pointed toward the road.
“Perfect—they’re already here. Start explaining why you think you belong here.”
A marked police SUV rolled slowly into the driveway behind them.
Its tires crossed the edge of the concrete, and the vehicle stopped several yards from the Mustang. The light bar remained dark. The engine idled for a moment before the driver’s door opened.
Officer Daniel Brooks stepped out.
He was a tall Black man in his late thirties, with a close-cropped haircut, a clean uniform, and the alert, controlled posture of someone who had learned to assess a scene before allowing his emotions to take over. His hand rested near his belt, not on his weapon. He scanned the driveway, noting the open car door, the woman standing close to Marcus, the teenager behind her, and the delivery worker by the curb.
Then his eyes settled on Marcus.
His posture straightened.
“Chief, are you all right—or do you want me to handle this?”
The question landed in the driveway like a dropped glass.
Denise’s smug expression faltered.
“Chief?”
Marcus turned slightly toward Brooks.
“I’m fine, Daniel. We have a disagreement about my vehicle.”
Brooks glanced at the Mustang, then at Denise.
“Is that right?”
Denise recovered enough to speak.
“This man is violating our neighborhood regulations. I called the police because he became aggressive and refused to comply.”
Marcus said nothing.
Brooks looked at him.
“Did you threaten anyone?”
“No.”