Kesler struck the edge of the table with his palm. The spoons jumped in their saucers. "I said stand up. Do not test me."
Nathaniel looked at Aaron and gave a slight shake of his head, not a command to submit to everything, but a signal to remain controlled while they assessed whether the encounter was becoming dangerous. Aaron slid toward the edge of the booth to comply. Kesler was already reaching for him, grabbing at his collar before his feet were under him. The officer hauled him up too quickly, pressing his shoulder toward the counter.
Aaron kept his hands visible and said, "I'm standing. I'm not resisting. Please stop pulling my shirt."
Someone's phone rose near the windows. Another appeared above the back of a booth. A man in a fluorescent work shirt had been reading sports scores on his own screen; now he opened the camera and began recording. He did not speak, but his chair scraped loudly enough to announce his movement. Kesler glanced toward the phones, saw the attention, and appeared to decide he had an audience to impress rather than witnesses to worry about.
"Scum like you don't get to tell me what to do," he snapped. "You stroll in here thinking the rules don't apply to you. Then you want to argue with a police officer?"
"I'm asking what we're accused of," Aaron said. "That's all."
Kesler swept Aaron's cup off the table. The porcelain shattered against the tile, and coffee spread across the floor toward Grace's shoes. A customer at the far end of the room cried out. Rose started forward, then stopped when Kesler turned his head sharply toward her. The officer caught Aaron's collar again, pulled him toward the counter, and announced that he was being detained as a possible robbery suspect.
"You've given us nothing connecting us to that robbery," Nathaniel said quietly. "You need to check the description."
"I don't need another lecture from an old man," Kesler replied. "Sit down or you're next."
Nathaniel remained standing beside the booth. "You have a body camera. These customers are recording. Think carefully about what you're doing."
"Let them record. This is my town. These people know me." Kesler tightened his grip. "And I don't take orders from people who walk in here acting important."
Aaron did not try to pull away when Kesler turned him toward the counter. He heard one handcuff click, then the second, followed by the short metallic sound of the officer testing the chain. The cuffs were uncomfortable, his wrists forced close behind his back, but the deeper pain was familiar and older than the steel. Kesler pressed him forward with a forearm across his upper back, his radio already in his other hand.