“Hands behind your back.”
He hesitated.
I almost laughed at the irony.
Ten minutes earlier he had enjoyed giving me commands.
Now every command offended him.
Patel cuffed him.
Then looked at me.
“You Daniel Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“911 said armed impersonator.”
“Accurate.”
“You law enforcement?”
I showed credentials.
She studied them.
Then looked at Lily.
Her expression softened.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
Lily nodded.
Then shook her head.
Then started crying.
I went to her.
The moment she reached me, she wrapped both arms around my waist.
I crouched.
“I'm okay.”
“He had a gun.”
“I know.”
“He said—”
“I know what he said.”
Her face pressed into my chest.
I looked over her head toward Mercer.
Patel had found the POLICE patch.
“What department?”
Mercer remained silent.
“Certification?”
Nothing.
“POST number?”
Nothing.
She removed the plastic badge.
Looked at it.
Then at him.
“This came from a costume supplier?”
Mercer’s face reddened.
Gloria stepped forward.
“I hired legitimate community enforcement.”
Patel turned.
“Ma’am, stay back.”
“I am HOA president.”
“I don't care if you're president of Georgia.”
That almost made Carl laugh.
Gloria looked personally wounded.
Patel continued.
“We are investigating an armed threat.”
“He refused HOA orders.”
“That is not a criminal offense.”
“He was hostile.”
Patel stared.
“He was installing a porch swing.”
Gloria’s mouth tightened.
Then Evan spoke.
“Officer.”
Patel turned.
He still held Mercer’s body camera.
“The camera recorded everything.”
Mercer cursed.
Patel looked at it.
“Don't touch any buttons.”
“I haven't.”
“Good.”
Then Evan picked his phone out of the grass.
“And I have more.”
Gloria took one step backward.
Patel noticed.
“So do I,” she said.
Rebecca arrived forty minutes later.
She should have been at the clinic another two hours.
Lily had called her aunt after calling 911.
Nobody could convince Rebecca to remain in the infusion chair after hearing the words gun and Daniel.
Her sister drove.
The car barely stopped before Rebecca opened the door.
She wore a soft gray cardigan over treatment clothes and a scarf wrapped around her head.
She had lost most of her hair three months earlier.
Lily ran first.
Rebecca embraced her.
Then looked at me.
Not my face.
My side.
Where the gun had been.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
She touched my cheek anyway.
“Liar?”
“Not this time.”
Her hand moved down to my ribs.
“Bruised?”
“Maybe.”
Then she looked toward Mercer sitting cuffed in the back of a cruiser.
Then Gloria speaking furiously to an officer.
Then the swing hanging behind us.
“You finished it.”
I looked back.