Margaret had lived on Elmwood Avenue for thirty years.
She answered on the third ring.
“Simone?”
“Margaret, did you happen to see what happened outside?”
There was a pause.
“Oh, honey.”
That was enough.
Simone closed her eyes.
“Who called?”
“I think it was the new couple.”
“Two houses down?”
“Yes.”
Margaret lowered her voice, as though the houses could hear.
“I saw the husband watching you from the window. Then he took out his phone.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“No. But I was about to walk over because I realized what was happening.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“The officer arrived so fast.”
Margaret sounded ashamed.
“I thought it might make things worse if I inserted myself.”
Simone understood.
“It might have.”
“I should have done something.”
“You called me back.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
Simone softened.
“But thank you for telling me.”
The third call went to CMPD’s non-emergency number.
Simone requested the formal complaint process.
Body-camera preservation.
Dispatch audio.
Computer-aided dispatch logs.
Officer identification.
The dispatcher asked:
“Officer’s name?”
“Ethan Caldwell.”
“Badge?”
“5847.”
“And your name?”
“Simone Garrett.”
She hesitated.
Then added:
“Judge Simone Garrett.”
The dispatcher paused.
Only slightly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Simone heard the change in tone.
More careful.
More formal.
That tiny shift infuriated her almost as much as Caldwell had.
Her title again.
Changing the temperature.
“I want the request processed the same way you would process it for any resident.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I mean that.”
“Understood.”
Finally, Simone entered her house.
The gym bag remained by the front door.
She poured the wine she had been thinking about for the last hour.
Then she sat at her kitchen table.
She did not turn on Netflix.
She opened her laptop.
At 7:36 p.m., she began writing.
Not an emotional account.
A record.
Date.
Time.
Location.
Officer.
Badge number.
Sequence of statements.
Body-camera acknowledgment.
No broken entry.
No observed crime.
No ID provided.
Threat of detention.
Exact words:
“Maybe it does.”
She typed them twice to make sure she had not softened them from memory.
Then she wrote the legal analysis.
Not because she believed internal affairs needed a judge to teach it constitutional law.
Because she had filed too many complaints that disappeared into vague summaries.