A second patrol vehicle approached from the east. Detective Michelle Park parked behind the chief's car and got out, straightening the blue jacket she wore over a dark green blouse. She saw the weapon before she saw the woman on the steps. Her heart sank.
"Chief," she called, "what do we have?"
"Burglary in progress, possibly an organized attempt to access the government residence. Subject refusing to cooperate."
Michelle assessed Lydia. The woman was standing where she had been ordered, hands behind her head, speaking calmly. There were no broken windows, no damaged door, and no movement toward an escape route. The only things visible near the steps were a leather portfolio and what appeared to be a set of keys.
"Were the occupants contacted?" Michelle asked.
"The homeowner saw her," Hawkins said, gesturing toward Constance.
Constance stepped forward eagerly. "I live next door. I told Gerald I didn't recognize her."
Michelle looked from Constance to the white columns. "That's not the same as saying she broke in."
The chief's stare hardened. "Watch your wording, Park."
Michelle made herself continue. "I'm trying to establish what happened before we proceed. Ma'am, may I ask your name?"
"Lydia Monroe," Lydia said. "I'm authorized to inspect this residence. My identification and orders are in my portfolio. If you contact the state protective security office, they can confirm it."
Michelle repeated the name under her breath and wrote it down. An experienced investigator did not ignore a specific claim that could be checked. She asked whether the woman had been advised that the building belonged to the state, and Hawkins answered before Lydia could speak.
"She knows enough to use that as an excuse," he said. "That's what makes her suspicious."
Michelle felt the old familiar pressure: to agree with the commanding officer, to keep her expression neutral, to handle doubts in private when they would cause no embarrassment. She was still evaluating how to respond when Darnell called from across the street.
"Chief, she's been doing everything you asked. Can you please put the gun away?"
Hawkins turned toward him. "Sir, stay on your own property."
"I am on my property. I'm recording this."
"Then keep your distance and don't interfere."
Darnell raised his free hand. "I'm not interfering. I'm asking a question."
Hawkins returned his attention to Lydia, visibly irritated that the audience was no longer uniformly supportive. "You hear what you're causing? You come into a nice neighborhood and now everybody has to stop what they're doing because you won't tell the truth."
"I have told you the truth several times," Lydia said. "You have declined to check it."
"You think you can lecture me?"
"No. I'm asking you to verify a fact."