Michael’s mouth opened. Linda answered for him.
“My son lives here.”
The officer didn’t look at her.
“I asked whether he owns the property.”
Michael finally cleared his throat.
“My wife and I are married.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
I saw something shift in Michael’s face. More like the sudden realization that the version of events he had rehearsed in his head didn’t sound quite as reasonable when spoken aloud in a brightly lit hallway to a stranger wearing a badge.
“The condo was purchased before we got married.”
“In whose name?”
Michael glanced at me.
“Emily’s.”
The younger officer stepped closer to the door and examined the lock.
“Did she agree to have the lock changed?”
Michael hesitated.
“No.”
“And did she agree to have her belongings removed from the unit?”
“No.”
Linda sighed loudly.
“This is being made into something it isn’t.”
