Marissa's expression hardened. Duncan's calm bothered her. She had expected anger, shouting, maybe an emotional demand to see every document she carried. Anger could be reframed as instability. Shouting could be shown to a police officer later as aggression. But Duncan spoke as if he were already describing the scene to someone who had not arrived yet, and that left her with less control than she wanted.
"Escort him off," she said.
Trent reached for Duncan's arm. Duncan stepped back once, not in fear but to make the contact unmistakably initiated by Trent.
"Do not put your hands on me."
Trent grabbed him anyway.
The second guard moved at the same time, catching Duncan's other arm. Duncan did not strike either man. He kept his hands open and his body loose enough not to give them a reason to claim resistance. Trent pushed him backward until Duncan's shoulder hit the side of his own truck.
"Hands behind your back," Trent said.
"You are not law enforcement."
"Security can detain trespassers."
"Not the owner."
"That is for the police to sort out."
Marissa stepped closer, phone still recording. "Detain him until they arrive."
Trent pulled a bundle of plastic restraints from a pouch on his belt. Duncan watched the white strip loop around his wrists and heard the ratcheting clicks as it tightened. The plastic bit into skin harder than necessary. He felt the instinctive surge of adrenaline that came whenever freedom of movement was taken away, but he let it pass without changing his breathing.
"Too tight," he said.
Trent gave the tie another pull anyway.
Duncan looked at him. "That was deliberate."
"You can complain later."
"I expect I will."
Marissa gave a satisfied breath through her nose, the sound of someone who believed control had finally returned. "Now maybe we can have a productive conversation."
They took him inside his own building and sat him in a folding chair near the loading dock. His truck remained ten feet away through the open bay door. From where he sat, Duncan could see that his office door had been forced near the latch. One drawer of his filing cabinet stood open. Two external hard drives that normally sat upright beside the desktop computer had been moved to the far side of his desk.
Trent pushed a one-page document across a folding table in front of him. "Sign."
Duncan read the heading upside down first: ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY AND NOTICE OF REMOVAL.
He looked up. "No."
"You did not even read it."
"The title is enough."
Marissa moved around the table and set the thick folder in front of him. "You have put yourself in this position, Duncan. We have spent months trying to resolve this professionally. Sign the acknowledgment, agree to stay off the property while ownership is finalized, and we can avoid making this uglier."