suspiciously."
"Trespassing? On my own property?" Marcus's disbelief was evident. "Look, I can go inside and
get my ID, or you can run my plates on the car in the driveway. It's registered to me."
Jenkins ignored him, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. "Turn around and put your hands
behind your back."
"You've got to be kidding me," Marcus protested, though he complied, not wanting to give her any
reason to escalate further. "This is ridiculous."
The cold steel of the handcuffs clicked around his wrists, biting into his skin. He stood there,
humiliated and angry, as Jenkins patted him down. The neighbors' porch lights began to flick on,
and curtains twitched as people peered out to see what the commotion was about.
Just as Jenkins finished her search, a second patrol car pulled up, its lights flashing silently. The
door opened, and Officer Miller stepped out. Miller was a veteran, a man who had walked these
streets for over twenty years. He knew the neighborhood, and more importantly, he knew the
people.
"What's going on here, Jenkins?" Miller asked, his deep voice carrying over the quiet street.
"Caught this guy trespassing, acting suspiciously around this property," Jenkins reported,
sounding triumphant. "He claims he lives here, but he has no ID on him."
Miller walked over, his eyes scanning the scene. He looked at the house, the car in the driveway,