“I'm refusing to be arrested by somebody pretending to be a cop.”
Brenda moved into view.
“Your father has repeatedly failed to comply with our community identification requirements,” she said. “Until this matter is resolved, your access privileges are suspended.”
Chloe looked at her in disbelief.
“Access to my own house?”
“Community property.”
“My dad owns the cabin!”
Brenda's smile disappeared.
“I'm tired of your disrespectful attitude.”
Then she turned toward Gary.
“Proceed.”
I felt my grip tighten around the steering wheel.
Gary lifted the handcuffs.
Chloe took another step backward.
And for the first time, I heard genuine fear in her voice.
“Dad?”
I was still several minutes away.
I told her through the phone not to let anyone inside, to keep her distance, and to remain where the cameras could see her.
Then I contacted operations again.
“They're escalating.”
“We have units responding.”
“How long?”
“Approximately ten minutes.”
I looked at the road ahead.
Ten minutes.
Under normal circumstances, ten minutes was nothing.
But when someone was threatening to restrain your child, ten minutes could feel impossibly long.
By the time I reached the cabin, the three men were still on the property.
Brenda stood near the walkway.
Gary was on the porch.
And Chloe was just inside the doorway, pale but refusing to retreat any farther.
I parked.
Stepped out.
And walked toward them.
I had no intention of shouting.
No intention of making threats.
And absolutely no intention of giving Brenda the confrontation she seemed desperate to provoke.
I wanted names.
I wanted evidence.
And I wanted my daughter safe.
Gary turned when he saw me.
“Sir, this is an active security enforcement matter.”
I kept walking.
“Step away from my daughter.”
He frowned.
“I'm going to need you to identify yourself.”
I stopped at the bottom of the porch.
“Arthur Mitchell.”
Brenda immediately stepped forward.
“Arthur, thank goodness. Perhaps you can explain to Chloe why community rules must be respected.”
I ignored her.
My eyes remained on Gary.
“What's your full name?”
He hesitated.
“Gary Fenwick.”
“Gary Fenwick,” I repeated. “Are you a certified law enforcement officer?”
He blinked.
“Well, I'm part of the community security—”
“That wasn't my question.”
His confidence began to slip.
“I completed a security training course.”
“Are you a certified law enforcement officer in this state or any other state?”