“Transfer was reviewed by counsel.”
“DMV processed it.”
“I have the original documents inside.”
The younger officer walked closer.
“Sergeant.”
He turned.
“Registration is current.”
“VIN clean.”
“Owner matches.”
The President’s face changed.
She stepped toward the officer.
“That cannot be correct.”
The younger officer showed nothing yet.
“It’s what the state system shows.”
The President shook her head.
“He could have filed something after the man died.”
The Homeowner looked at her.
The younger officer checked the record again.
“Transfer date predates death.”
The President stopped.
The Sergeant noticed.
“When did the previous owner die?”
The Homeowner gave the date.
The officer compared.
“Transfer was seven months earlier.”
The President recovered.
“He might have been incompetent.”
The Homeowner’s voice changed.
“Be careful.”
She turned.
“What?”
“Do not use his death to invent incapacity.”
The Sergeant raised one hand.
“Everyone stay calm.”
The President pointed toward the house.
“I saw him declining.”
The Homeowner looked at her.
“You barely visited him.”
“That is a lie.”
“Then name the last time you sat with him for more than ten minutes.”
She stared.
The Homeowner continued.
“You sent violation notices.”
“You came to collect signatures.”
“You did not help him.”
The President’s face reddened.
“This isn’t about me.”
The younger officer scrolled.
Then stopped.
“Sergeant.”
Something in her voice changed.
He walked closer.
She turned the tablet slightly.
The Sergeant read.
Then looked at the President.
The Homeowner noticed immediately.
So did she.
“What?”
the President asked.
The Sergeant looked back at the screen.
“Do you have identification?”
She blinked.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Please.”
Her confidence faltered.
She retrieved her wallet.
Handed over her license.
The Sergeant compared the name.
Then handed it to the younger officer.
The younger officer entered something.
The President became impatient.
“What exactly are you doing?”
The Sergeant said:
“Checking a witness record.”
Silence.
The Homeowner’s eyes narrowed.
The President froze.
The younger officer looked directly at her.
“Ma’am.”
“Yes?”
“Your name appears on the title-transfer documentation.”
The President did not move.
The Homeowner stared.
He had remembered correctly.
The Sergeant continued:
“You signed as a witness on the transfer acknowledgment.”
The President’s face lost color.
Across the street, the neighbor lifted his phone.
The President looked toward the Homeowner.
Then back at the officers.
“That was something else.”
The Sergeant asked:
“What was it?”
“A neighborhood form.”
The younger officer shook her head.