"Officer," John said calmly, tucking the badge case back into his pocket. "Before you write up any official report on my supposed 'threats,' perhaps you'd like to review the forty-k high-definition security camera mounted above my garage door. Or better yet, the dual-lens dashcam running inside the Mustang."
John pointed up toward the discreet black camera housing under the roof eaves, then nodded toward the windshield of the classic car.
"What you will find," John continued, his voice echoing authoritatively down the suburban street, "is Ms. Vance's son driving his modified sedan at sixty miles an hour down this residential zone. When he lost control, he swerved across my curb, clipping my mailbox and narrowly missing two children riding bicycles on the sidewalk. When I stepped out to tell him to slow down and wait for law enforcement, he drove off, only to return five minutes later with his mother."
Officer Hayes turned slowly toward Chad, whose face had gone completely pale. "Is this true, son?"
Chad dropped his head, unable to utter a word of defense.