"You'll see," Brenda muttered, glaring at Mark. "You're going away for a long time."
The officer stepped back to his radio, calling in both names to dispatch. For a long, tense minute, the only sound on the street was the rhythmic creaking of Mark's rocking chair.
Then, the officer's shoulder radio crackled to life. The dispatcher's voice was loud and clear in the quiet morning air.
"Dispatch to unit four. We just confirmed three active warrants under that name."
Brenda’s face lit up with a triumphant, vindictive smile. She spun around to face Mark. "I knew it! I told you! You are a criminal!"
But the officer didn't walk toward Mark. Instead, he took two brisk steps toward Brenda, unhooking the handcuffs from his belt.
"Brenda Higgins," the officer said, his voice flat and authoritative. "Turn around and place your hands behind your back."