Linda seemed not to notice them. The older officer faced me.
“Ma’am, do you have identification showing this as your residence?”
Michael had thrown nearly everything into the hallway, but apparently he had been careful enough not to empty the contents. My driver’s license listed the condo. So did several pieces of mail sticking out of my work folder. Then I brought up the county property-record website on my phone. The officer studied the screen.
“All right.”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“So what happens now?”
The officer handed my license back.
“What happens now is that she is allowed back into her residence.”
Michael stared at him.
“You’re just taking her side?”
“No,” the officer said calmly. “I’m looking at the facts you both provided.”
Linda stepped forward.
“This is a family matter.”
The officer finally faced her.
“Then I’d suggest the family handle it without locking the legal owner out of her home.”
