His daughter investigated people who believed they were smarter than the law.
The station smelled of stale coffee and disinfectant when I pushed through the glass doors.
My father sat hunched in a plastic chair near the far wall. His skin looked gray beneath the fluorescent lights, and his shoulders seemed smaller than I remembered.
Across the room, my sister-in-law, Vanessa Brooks, stood at the front desk performing for the officers.
I walked directly to the counter.
“I want that man moved into a private interview room,” I told the duty officer. “No further questions until a public defender is present.”
The officer glanced up from his clipboard.
His nameplate read Samuel Porter.
Before he could respond, Vanessa turned toward me.
She pressed a crumpled tissue beneath one eye and released a dramatic sob.
“You don’t understand,” she cried. “He snapped. He came at me with a bat. He is dangerous. He needs to be committed tonight before he hurts someone.”
She pointed to a faint reddish mark on her shoulder.
I did not look at her.
My attention remained on Porter.
My phone began vibrating in my pocket.
The caller was my aunt, Carol.
“Natalie, what is happening?” she asked the second I answered. “Eric says your father has dementia. He says he became violent and attacked Vanessa.”
I could hear Uncle Raymond muttering in the background.
Eric was already contacting relatives.
He was creating a medical explanation before anyone had time to ask legal questions. If enough family members repeated that Dad was confused or unstable, it would become easier to portray every objection he made as evidence of mental decline.
“I have it under control,” I told Carol.
Then I ended the call.
I returned to the desk.
“Officer Porter, dispatch a unit to my father’s house and preserve it as a potential crime scene. Record every additional statement Vanessa makes. Do not allow anyone to remove property from that residence.”
Porter exhaled loudly.
“Ma’am, sit down and wait. This is a domestic matter. Local police can handle it without someone interfering.”
“I am not asking casually.”
I opened my credential case and placed it on the counter.
The federal shield caught the overhead light.
