Mitchell finally looked directly at him. For a fraction of a second, recognition flickered across her expression. James caught it because he had been trained to notice the smallest changes around the eyes. She had not stumbled across an unfamiliar father in a crowded park. She knew whose party she was interrupting.
"You responsible for everybody here?" she asked.
"I'm the person who booked the pavilion," he replied.
"Then you can explain why a public park is being turned into a private nightclub."
James glanced toward the children in superhero T-shirts and paper crowns. "It's a birthday party, Lieutenant. There isn't a nightclub here."
Mitchell's smile vanished. "You think this is funny?"
"No. I think the children are frightened, and I'd like to resolve the complaint."
"Then start by showing some respect."
A sudden silence came over the tables. Kesha, who had been filming Marcus's treasure hunt, lowered her camera slightly but did not stop recording. Her grandmother caught her eye from across the pavilion and gave the smallest nod. Kesha adjusted the angle to include Mitchell and the decorations, realizing this footage might become important for reasons no one had wanted.
Maya opened the folder and held out the printed reservation. Mitchell glanced at it but refused to take it. She said the paper could be counterfeit, then announced that officers had received concerns about unsanitary food and possible illegal activity. The way she moved from one accusation to another made it impossible for the family to answer. Each time they responded, she raised a new issue before anyone could establish whether the last one was real.
"The music isn't loud," Monique Johnson said. "We turned it down when the children started eating."
"And who asked for your opinion?" Barnes replied. He approached the food tables, lifted the corner of a foil covering, and sniffed theatrically. "Food sitting out in the sun. That's a health hazard."
"It was just brought from the cooler," Robert Johnson said. "We have ice. Everything's been kept cold."
"So you're a health inspector now?" Barnes asked.
Cruz moved toward the folding chairs and began asking adults for identification without explaining why each person was being questioned. One teenage boy asked whether he could get his wallet from his mother. Cruz told him to keep his hands where they could be seen. The teenager stopped breathing for a moment, then raised both hands. His mother hurried over, apologizing for a son who had done nothing more than ask a question.
The atmosphere changed from confusion to fear in a way James knew well. Nobody wanted an argument, but everyone could see that the officers were treating normal behavior as defiance. Mitchell walked between tables, inspecting the guests, speaking to some adults in a tone she would never have used with people she considered her equals. When she returned to the cake, she tapped the cardboard base with one finger.
"Pretty expensive looking for people who say they need assistance," she said.
Maya stepped between her and the table. "I made it myself. I bought the ingredients. Please don't touch it."