"Why?" Naomi asked. "Are we under arrest, or are we free to remain on our own property while you confirm the address?" Pike's eyes narrowed at the distinction, and Maya could almost see him deciding whether answering would surrender something he thought belonged to him. He did not give a legal reason for the demand. Instead, he took the first step himself.
The wood creaked under his boot. "I'm giving you a chance to cooperate before this becomes something worse."
"You have plenty of ways to resolve it right now," Maya said. "Ask dispatch to run the address. Let us call our attorney. Let us show the documents. You haven't tried a single one."
Pike raised his chin and took another step, until the old railing was beside him and his face was close enough for Maya to see a faint shaving cut near his jaw. "You don't get to set the rules," he replied.
Shaw started toward the side of the porch, while Mercer shifted to maintain the position Pike had assigned him. Cole looked openly concerned now. "Sergeant, I think we should pause and check the—" Pike stopped him with a glance that made the young officer swallow the rest of his sentence. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the neighboring rooftops, and the porch lamp made the distance between the officers and the women seem smaller than it was.
Naomi took a careful breath. "I am going to call our lawyer. My phone is in my jacket, and I will take it out slowly so nobody misunderstands."
She waited for an answer, and when none came, she moved only her fingers toward the fabric. Pike's hand snapped up. "Don't touch anything," he said. "No calls until you come down here."
"That isn't a reason," Maya told him. "It's just another order."
"You want a reason?" Pike stepped closer. "You have a suspicious-person complaint, you have officers investigating it, and you are refusing to come down. That's enough reason for me." Shaw grinned behind him, as if the escalating confrontation had become an entertainment. Mercer watched the sergeant's hands with a concern that was no longer subtle.
"Stop this, Sergeant," Naomi said quietly. "You still have time to check the records and leave."
Pike reached out and seized Maya's wrist. It happened quickly, with the casual confidence of someone who had used the movement before and expected the person on the receiving end to freeze. Maya instinctively withdrew her arm and turned aside, not striking him or pursuing him, simply refusing to be hauled down a stair. Pike's forward momentum left him reaching for the railing to steady himself. The old green-painted wood rattled beneath his weight, and the sound carried across the yard like a warning.
For an instant nobody moved. Pike stared at his empty hand, then at Maya, as though he could not believe she had remained upright while he had lost his footing. Shaw surged toward the steps, shouting that she had attacked the sergeant. Naomi moved between him and her sister with both palms open, saying, "Stop. Nobody needs to touch anybody else."
Pike straightened with a sharp breath. "You just assaulted an officer," he said, louder than before. "Both of you are under arrest."
"I pulled away when you grabbed me," Maya answered. "That is what happened, and there are cameras pointed directly at us." She lifted her empty hands, fingers spread, careful not to make the situation worse. "Nobody was struck. Nobody was pushed down the steps. Let us identify ourselves and resolve this properly."
The sisters exchanged a glance, the sort they had shared across classrooms, family dinners, and years of difficult work when speaking was less efficient than understanding. Both knew that revealing their occupations should have been unnecessary. A homeowner should not need federal credentials to be believed when she says she is home. But the risk of another physical confrontation was rising, and the identification might end it before someone made a decision that could not be undone.