Hadley looked at me then. The pleasure fell from her expression when she saw the officers speaking to me with an ease that did not fit her version of who I was. She stared at my face, at the cap in my hand, and then back at Brennan. I watched her work through the implications, one uncomfortable step at a time.
"You know him?" she demanded.
"He's the chief of police," Murchison said before Brennan could answer.
Bryson's shoulders sagged. He folded his paper again, this time more slowly, and looked as though he wanted the concrete curb to open beneath him. Hadley opened her mouth, closed it, and tried a different tone. "Well, that's very interesting. But it doesn't change the ownership issue."
"You're right," I told her. "It doesn't. The records decide that."
Brennan asked Hadley to show him the transfer document. She handed it over with a theatrical sigh, telling him it had been signed in cash before witnesses and properly notarized. The document described a sale between me and Bryson on August fourteenth for thirty-five thousand dollars. At the bottom appeared my supposed signature and a stamp bearing Evelyn Marsh's name.
Brennan compared the claimed sale date with my registration and asked whether a transfer of title had been completed through the state. Hadley said she assumed Bryson had submitted the necessary papers and that delays at the motor vehicle office were common. Bryson stared down at his shoes. When Brennan asked him directly whether he had paid me, Bryson said, "My mom handled it."
I did not answer for him. I could feel how much Tate wanted to come down from upstairs and tell everybody exactly what he thought of the Lockwoods. The camera in the upstairs window made a faint movement, then went still. I kept my hands visible and let the officers work.
Brennan requested a supervisor through normal dispatch because the evidence involved conflicting ownership claims and a potentially forged document. A few minutes later, the watch commander called him directly. I heard Brennan explain that the registered owner was the department's chief and that the chief had specifically asked for ordinary procedure and no command intervention.
He looked at me after the call. "Sir, the sheriff's office is already conducting a related investigation. They're sending the lead detective to clarify what they need us to preserve."
I nodded. "Then that's who should take the lead."
Hadley had heard enough to start moving. She reached for Bryson's arm and told him they could settle the misunderstanding at the HOA meeting that evening. Brennan asked her to wait while the document was examined and while investigators decided whether a formal statement was necessary. He did not threaten her or block her path with a show of force; he explained the voluntary nature of the request and why leaving could complicate matters.
Hadley stayed. She had spent years demanding that other residents cooperate with her version of authority. Now she seemed unable to decide whether refusing a polite request from police would be worse than standing still while they read her paperwork.