The communications officer acknowledged the request.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Talia stood beside the crushed roses, her hands cuffed behind her.
Mercer folded his arms.
Bennett kept looking between the wallet and the radio.
Then dispatch responded.
The credential was authentic.
The holder's identity was confirmed.
And the woman standing in Lorraine Monroe's garden was the director responsible for reviewing certain police misconduct complaints and integrity concerns under state oversight procedures.
Bennett looked toward Talia.
Then toward Mercer.
"Sergeant, it's confirmed."
For the first time, his expression seemed uncertain.
Bennett continued.
"She's the state police oversight director."
Mercer swallowed.
Then said something so revealing that Margaret would later remember it more clearly than the smashed roses.
"Why didn't she tell us she was somebody important?"
Talia slowly turned her head.
Her eyes were cold.
"I told you who I was."
Mercer frowned.
"You decided that wasn't worth checking."
The sergeant looked toward Bennett.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to decide what to do.
Then he stepped closer to Talia.
"Why didn't you show the card earlier?"
She looked at him.
"My wallet fell when you shoved me."
Mercer opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Talia continued.
"Before that, I offered to show you my identification."
Bennett lowered her eyes.
She knew it was true.
The body cameras had captured the conversation.
Mercer looked toward the rose garden.
Then attempted to shift the argument back to the landscaping complaint.
"That doesn't change the violation."
Talia shook her head.
"There is no verified removal order in your paperwork."
"And the woman your complaint identifies as the current owner died almost a year ago."
For several seconds, the air seemed completely still.
Then Bennett spoke.
"Sergeant, we need a supervisor."
Mercer turned angrily.
"I am the supervisor."
The younger officer didn't lower her gaze.
"You're involved in the incident."
He stared at her.
Bennett swallowed.
But she continued.
"We need another supervisor to review the detention."
For a moment, Mercer looked ready to shout.
Then he noticed Margaret recording from across the street.
Daniel stood beside her.
A third neighbor had emerged from a nearby house.
The sergeant looked at the phones.
His confidence seemed to evaporate.
Finally, he stepped backward.
"Call the lieutenant."
Lieutenant Robert Hale arrived nine minutes later.
He was fifty-four, with short graying hair and a calm, serious manner. He'd served in the Briar Glen Police Department for more than twenty-five years, including several years supervising patrol operations.
He stepped from his vehicle and immediately noticed the damaged rosebushes.
Then he saw Talia.
Her platinum-white hair shone in the morning sunlight.
The olive-green crop top, camouflage shorts, and tan boots made her look like an ordinary homeowner working in the yard.
Her hands remained cuffed behind her.
Hale approached Bennett first.
"What's the situation?"
She provided the dispatch number and began explaining.
Mercer interrupted.
"Lieutenant, we had a noncompliant property owner interfering with city enforcement."
Hale held up one hand.
"I'll hear everyone's account."
He turned toward Bennett.
The original complaint involved vegetation removal.
Talia said she owned the property.
The listed owner was deceased.
No authenticated removal order had been produced.