His gaze moved deliberately from Rick's vest to Dale's, then to their belts and boots. Interesting choice of equipment you've got there. Those vests, Chinese knockoffs, aren't they? The stitching's already coming loose at the shoulders. Dale shifted his weight uncomfortably.
Linda stepped forward, her heels clicking against the pavement with sharp angry taps. "Mr. Carter," she said, forcing a diplomatic smile. These gentlemen are authorized security personnel hired by the HOA board to protect our community. Your son was being uncooperative when asked for simple identification. Authorized by whom?
Reginald's voice remained level, but his eyes hardened. Because I'm looking at your badges right now, and I'm seeing some serious problems. The holographic overlay is missing. For one and that font. He shook his head.
Not even close to regulation. Rick finally released Malik's wrist, taking a half step back. Listen, buddy. I'm not your buddy. Reginald cut him off.
And that radio on your belt? The antenna's solid plastic. It's a prop, probably from a costume shop. He pointed to their truck parked halfway down the block. Just like that magnetic decal on your pickup.
The one that's peeling at the corners. Malik wheeled his bike backward, creating some distance between himself and the increasingly nervousl looking men. He'd seen his father work before during career day at school once, but this was different. This was personal. Linda's face had gone from pink to red.
"Now see here." "No, you see here," Reginald interrupted, his voice dropping lower. Those vests you're wearing, they're marked with community enforcement in a way that's deliberately meant to be confused with actual law enforcement. That's not just poor judgment. That's a federal offense.
Dale's hand, which had been hovering near his hip, dropped to his side. The cold look in his eyes had been replaced by something closer to worry. "We were hired to do a job," Rick protested, but his voice had lost its edge. The HOA president hired you to intimidate residents. Regginald took another step forward.
To harass teenage boys on their way home from basketball practice, to impersonate law enforcement officers. Linda's diplomatic mask cracked completely. Now you listen to me, Mr. Carter. I won't have you threatening our security team. The board approved this measure to protect property values and community standards.
The board approved hiring fake cops to patrol the neighborhood. Reginald raised an eyebrow. I'd be very interested in seeing those meeting minutes along with the licensing and insurance documentation for your security team. Rick and Dale exchanged glances. The swagger they'd shown earlier had evaporated in the face of Reginald's methodical dismantling of their authority.
"And those weapons you're carrying?" Reginald continued. I'm assuming you have the proper permits because impersonating law enforcement while armed adds some particularly serious charges to the situation. The color drained from Dale's face. Rick's hands had started to tremble slightly.
This is ridiculous. Linda snapped, but her voice had gone up an octave. You can't just I can, Reginald said softly. And I will. 20 years with the FBI, Mrs. Whitfield, 15 of those in counter inelligence.