“No.”
“Threatened anyone?”
“No.”
“Carried a weapon?”
“No.”
“Then what made me suspicious?”
The officer hesitated.
The homeowner saw it.
“So that is the real question.”
The officer said:
“The caller said the homeowner was away.”
The homeowner looked toward the mansion.
“Who told them that?”
“They said they knew the owner.”
The homeowner smiled without humor.
“Apparently not very well.”
The officer ignored him.
“They said you had been sitting by the pool for approximately thirty minutes.”
The homeowner looked toward his watch.
“Forty-two.”
The officer frowned.
“What?”
“I have been sitting here forty-two minutes.”
He lifted the book.
“I finished thirty-seven pages.”
The officer stared.
The homeowner continued.
“If I intended to steal the pool, I have made very little progress.”
The woman on the balcony covered her mouth.
The older officer looked upward.
“Ma’am, please go inside.”
She stayed.
“I’m not comfortable leaving him alone with you.”
That sentence changed the mood.
The officer looked up sharply.
The homeowner turned toward her.
“Stay where you are.”
The officer looked back.
“Do not give instructions while I’m conducting an investigation.”
The homeowner slowly set the book on the side table.
Then he stood.
The officer reacted instantly.
“Hands where I can see them.”
The homeowner raised both hands slightly.
His expression was no longer amused.
He was six feet two.
Muscular.
Broad shoulders.
The officer seemed to register his size for the first time.
That made the tension worse.
The homeowner said:
“You ordered me to stand.”
The officer’s hand stayed close to his belt.
“And now I’m standing.”
“I’m not approaching you.”
“I’m not reaching for anything.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Your partner is verifying the property.”
“What exactly do you need from me right now?”
The officer answered:
“Identification.”
“My identification is inside.”
“Then we’re going inside.”
“No.”
The officer blinked.
The homeowner’s voice remained calm.
“You are not walking through my house searching for identification because somebody anonymous said I don’t belong at my own pool.”
“I didn’t say search.”
“You said we.”
“I can retrieve it.”
“No.”
The officer stepped closer.
“You really want to make this difficult?”
The homeowner looked at him.
“You walked through a closed gate into my backyard.”
“You interrupted me while I was reading.”
“You were told by a household employee that I own this place.”
“Your partner is verifying the deed.”
“And somehow you still think I am the one making this difficult.”
The officer’s face reddened again.
The homeowner continued.
“This stopped being about identification five minutes ago.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you want me to submit before the facts arrive.”
Silence.
The homeowner lowered his hands slightly.
The officer immediately said:
“Keep your hands up.”
The homeowner raised them again.
“Fine.”
The woman on the balcony was now filming.
Another member of the staff appeared inside the downstairs patio doors.
He began recording too.
The officer saw him.
“This is becoming a circus.”
The homeowner looked around.
“No.”
“It is becoming documented.”
The younger officer returned through the gate carrying a tablet.
The older officer turned.