He folded his hands on the table.
His breathing remained even.
Wilson entered behind them and closed the door.
She didn’t lock it.
Not yet.
That would come later.
First, they needed to establish the story.
Create the narrative.
Mitchell remained standing.
He positioned himself behind Andrew.
It was an intimidation tactic, a way of making someone feel smaller, vulnerable, surrounded.
“Let’s start with why you’re really here,” Mitchell said.
His voice was different now.
Harder.
No one else was watching.
“You said something about tomorrow morning. What ceremony?”
“That’s between me and your captain.”
“Wrong answer.”
Mitchell slammed both hands against the table.
The noise cracked through the small room.
Andrew didn’t flinch.
“You’re in my house now,” Mitchell said. “You answer my questions. You don’t get to make demands.”
“I’m not making demands. I’m exercising my rights.”
Wilson laughed from her position beside the door.
“Your rights? You walked into a police station during shift change. You refused to state your business. You became aggressive when Officer Mitchell attempted to verify your identity.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“That’s exactly what happened,” Mitchell said.
He walked around the table and leaned close to Andrew.
“And that’s what’s going in the report unless you want to tell us the real reason you’re here.”
Andrew looked directly at him.
Eye to eye.
No fear.
No submission.
Just a steady, measured gaze that seemed to see through Mitchell.
“I’m here because I was invited by people who outrank you.”
Mitchell’s jaw clenched.
Something about the way Andrew spoke bothered him.
The confidence.
The complete lack of fear.
It didn’t fit the script.
“Community liaison, right?” Mitchell sneered. “That’s what they call troublemakers now. People who file complaints. People who think they can change how we do our jobs.”
“I didn’t say I was a liaison.”
“Then what are you?”
“Someone who knows exactly what you’re doing right now.”
The words hung in the air.
Mitchell felt something shift.
This wasn’t going the way it normally did.
Most people broke by now.
Most people became scared, started explaining, started apologizing.
Andrew just sat there with his hands folded, calm as though he had been through this before.
“Check his pockets,” Mitchell told Wilson.
“You need legal cause for that,” Andrew said.
“No, I don’t. Not if I suspect you’re armed. Not if I believe you’re a threat.”
Wilson moved forward.
She pulled Andrew’s phone from his jacket pocket.
It was a newer model.
Password protected.
“Unlock it,” Mitchell demanded.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“And I’m not giving you my passcode. That violates my rights.”
Mitchell grabbed Andrew’s collar again and pulled him halfway out of the chair.
“You want to talk about rights? How about my right to keep this station safe? How about my right to investigate suspicious individuals?”
“I’m not suspicious. I told you why I’m here.”
“You told me nothing.”
Mitchell forced Andrew back into the chair.
Then he moved behind him again.
This time, his hands went to Andrew’s shoulders, fingers pressing painfully into the muscles.
“Last chance. What ceremony are you talking about?”
Andrew’s voice remained level.
“Tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock. The mayor will be there. City council. Your entire command staff.”
Mitchell’s hands froze for just a second.
Then he recovered.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“There’s no ceremony tomorrow.”
“Yes, there is. And I’m supposed to meet your captain tonight to discuss the final arrangements.”
Wilson exchanged a look with Mitchell.
Something passed between them without words.
“He’s lying,” Wilson said. “There’s nothing on the schedule.”
But Mitchell wasn’t as certain anymore.
The way Andrew spoke.
The specific details.
The mention of the mayor and city council.
Those weren’t things a random visitor should necessarily know.