Chapter Thirteen: The Men at the Table
Friday evening brought the four friends back to Marcus’s house.
They arrived separately and carried food instead of badge holders.
Curtis brought a tray of baked potatoes.
Lionel brought salad that nobody believed he had prepared himself.
Andre carried a large paper bag of bread, and the search-and-rescue coordinator, Samuel Ortiz, brought a box of peaches from his uncle’s orchard.
They sat around the dining table because rain had begun to fall across the backyard.
“We’re not holding a press conference,” Marcus said as he poured lemonade.
“Then why did you tell us to bring our serious faces?” Curtis asked.
“I told you to bring dinner.”
“My serious face is hungry.”
The joke earned a small laugh.
Then Marcus described the anonymous message,
Beth’s account, and Harold’s admission.
Andre folded his arms.
“Margaret submitted the picture after she knew whose yard it was,” he said.
“That’s what the date shows,” Marcus replied.
Samuel looked at the window.
“She could still claim she believed the other men were dangerous.”
“She could,” Marcus said.
“But believing something doesn’t turn it into evidence.”
Lionel had been quiet until then.
“We need to talk about what happened when those badge holders went on the table,” he said.
Marcus looked at him.
“What about it?”
“The officers recognized you, and the whole situation changed,” Lionel answered.
“I’m grateful they did, but I keep thinking about five men who don’t have our jobs.”
Andre nodded.
“The neighbors wouldn’t have stopped filming because somebody showed a grocery store name tag.
”
Curtis set down his fork.
“We should be careful not to let this become a story about how Margaret picked the wrong five men.”
Marcus looked around the table.
These were the men who had stood beside him through hospital evacuations, missing children, fires, and nights when the roads disappeared beneath snow.
They had each earned public trust through work that required restraint.
None of that had made the accusation acceptable or the threat less real.
“You’re right,” Marcus said.
“The point isn’t that she should have known our titles.”
“The point is that she should have recognized five neighbors having lunch,” Andre answered.
Nia came in carrying a notebook.
“Can I ask something?” she said.
Marcus nodded.
“If the police hadn’t known Dad, would you have shown them the badges anyway?”
Samuel considered the question.
“Probably,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“Because we wanted to get everyone home safely.”
“So the badges helped,” Nia said.
“Yes,” Samuel answered.
“But they shouldn’t have been necessary.”
Nia wrote something in her notebook.
Curtis tilted his head.
“What are you working on?”
“A debate,” she said.
“This time I plan to win.”
Chapter Fourteen: Margaret’s Second Story
