Then he noticed the patrol car outside.
They had already been nearby.
One officer entered first.
White man.
Mid-forties.
Short brown hair.
Second behind him.
Bald.
Larger.
Adrian lifted his hand.
“Officers.”
Marcus’s stomach sank.
This no longer felt ridiculous.
It felt dangerous.
The first officer approached.
“What’s going on?”
Adrian pointed toward Marcus.
“This gentleman is refusing to leave a restricted private collection area.”
Marcus turned.
“I have a scheduled appointment.”
The officer looked toward him.
“Sir, step away from the counter.”
Marcus took one step back.
Immediately.
“Done.”
The officer said:
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Marcus held both hands open at waist height.
“My appointment is in their system.”
Adrian spoke over him.
“He has been accessing private materials without authorization.”
Marcus looked toward the officer.
“A folder sitting on the counter.”
The officer ignored the detail.
“Do you have identification?”
“Yes.”
“Get it slowly.”
Marcus reached toward his back pocket.
The second officer moved.
“Slow.”
“I am moving slowly.”
Marcus removed his wallet.
Pulled out his license.
The first officer took it.
“Marcus Hale.”
“Yes.”
Adrian said:
“That name means nothing to me.”
Marcus turned his head.
“It should.”
The officer looked toward Adrian.
“Did he steal anything?”
“No.”
“Damage anything?”
“No.”
“Threaten anyone?”
Adrian hesitated.
“He became confrontational.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“How?”
The officer lifted one hand.
“Sir, don't interrupt.”
Marcus looked at him.
Then said nothing.
Good.
The officer asked Adrian:
“Did you ask him to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Did he refuse?”
“Yes.”
The officer looked at Marcus.
“Then you need to leave.”
Marcus kept his voice level.
“I will leave if the appointment is not legitimate.”
Adrian scoffed.
“It isn't.”
Marcus looked toward the young associate.
“He checked it.”
The officer turned.
“You checked an appointment?”
The associate looked frightened.
“Yes.”
“Under his name?”
“Yes.”
“Was it valid?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian snapped:
“It was not on my schedule.”
The associate said:
“It was in the executive queue.”
Adrian glared.
Marcus looked at the officer.
“Check it.”
The officer frowned.
“That's store business.”
“Exactly.”
“So verify store business before treating me like a trespasser.”
The officer’s jaw tightened.
“Don't tell me how to do my job.”
Marcus heard the phrase.
He had heard versions before.
Different rooms.
Different people.