Callahan's face reddened.
"I believe the circumstances—"
"That wasn't my question."
Silence.
Marcus stepped closer.
"Release her."
Callahan obeyed.
He removed the cuffs he had never managed to place around Simone's wrists.
Marcus then looked at Price.
"Get me every recording from this street."
Price nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"And the dispatch audio."
"Yes, sir."
Marcus looked at Simone.
"I need to tell you something."
"What?"
"I wasn't supposed to be here."
Simone frowned.
"Why are you here?"
Marcus looked toward the patrol cars.
"Because your name appeared on an internal alert this morning."
Simone stared.
"What kind of alert?"
Marcus lowered his voice.
"Someone has been trying to find out who is investigating Officer Callahan."
The File
Simone changed clothes and returned to the department that evening.
Her wet blouse was sealed inside an evidence bag.
She refused to throw it away.
Marcus Bell met her in a conference room with Daniel Price.
A laptop sat on the table.
The first video played.
A neighbor's security camera showed Simone kneeling beside her flower bed.
Then the patrol cars arrived.
Another camera showed Callahan walking toward her.
A third showed the garden hose.
There was no ambiguity.
No attack.
No trespassing.
No threat.
No resistance.
Just a woman gardening on her own property.
Marcus paused the footage.
"There's more."
He opened a personnel file.
"Callahan has three complaints."
"I know."
"Four, actually."
Simone looked up.
"Four?"
"The fourth was never formally entered."
Price stared at the table.
Marcus noticed.
"Officer Price?"
Price took a breath.
"I heard about it."
"Tell her."
Price swallowed.
"A woman complained last year that Callahan shoved her during a traffic stop."
"Why wasn't it entered?"
"Supervisor told her to resolve it with the officer."
Simone's eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
Price hesitated.
"Lieutenant Harris."
Marcus exchanged a look with Simone.
That name mattered.
Lieutenant Raymond Harris supervised Callahan's district.
He also signed off on every previous complaint.
Simone opened another file.
"Where's the body-camera footage?"
Price looked uncomfortable.
"Callahan's camera was listed as malfunctioning during two of the previous incidents."
"Two?"
"Three."
Simone leaned back.
"Then today wasn't an isolated event."
Marcus nodded.
"That's what I think."
He opened a database.
The screen filled with incident numbers.
"Callahan has had eight body-camera interruptions in eighteen months."
Simone stared.
"Eight?"
"Six occurred during citizen complaints."
"And all six?"
"Ended without sustained findings."
Simone was silent.
Then she asked:
"Who reviewed the footage?"
Marcus looked at her.
"That's the problem."
"Who?"
"Harris."
The room became very quiet.
Simone remembered her training.
Misconduct rarely survived because one person was clever.
It survived because several people decided not to ask the next question.
Marcus closed the laptop.
"This is no longer an investigation into what happened on your lawn."
Simone nodded.
"It's an investigation into why it kept happening."
Elaine
The next morning, investigators interviewed Elaine Mercer.
She sat in a small conference room, hands folded tightly in her lap.
Marcus placed a recording device on the table.
"You called police yesterday."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I was concerned."
"About Simone Carter?"
Elaine nodded.
"What specifically concerned you?"
Elaine looked down.
"She didn't seem like she belonged."
Marcus waited.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"That's not an answer."
Elaine sighed.
"I had never seen anyone like her living there."
The investigator across from her raised an eyebrow.
"Anyone like her?"
Elaine immediately realized what she had said.
"I didn't mean—"
"You said it."
Elaine became defensive.
"I was only being cautious."
"You watched her for eleven months."
"I was protecting the neighborhood."
"From what?"
Elaine couldn't answer.
Marcus placed photographs on the table.
Simone's grocery deliveries.
Her contractors.
Her friends.
Her car.
The investigator asked:
"Did you call police on any of them?"