“We got a call about a disturbance,” Liam says calmly. “Mind if we come in and have a word?”
“Everything’s fine.” Randy braces one arm against the doorframe, blocking the entrance. “Just a disagreement. You know how it is with women. My bitch of a wife always makes a problem where there is none.”
Behind him, I catch a glimpse of the living room. Broken glass on the carpet. An overturned coffee table. And further back, a woman standing in the kitchen doorway. She’s holding a dish towel pressed to her mouth.
“How about we come in and talk to Donna too?” Liam’s voice is level. “Just to make sure everyone’s all right.”
“There’s no need. Everything is peachy-keeno here. Why don’t you go catch some actual criminals instead of harassing me?”
“If nothing bad is happening why not let us in?” I ask casually.
Randy’s gaze snaps to me. “Oh, you must be the new guy. Maybe because you’re new in town you don’t realize I’m oneof the good guys around here. I’m a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen.”
I hold his hostile gaze. “Even so, is it a problem for us to speak with your wife?”
“Yeah it’s a problem because it’s my fucking house,” he growls. “You cops are always hassling me over nothing. I didn’t invite you onto my property, so get lost.”
“Now come on, Randy,” Liam says in a cajoling tone. “You don’t have to be like that. We’re here because we got a call. I know you and Donna have been arguing. We could hear you from outside the house when we drove up. We need to talk to Donna too, I’m sure you understand.”
“Hell no I don’t understand,” Randy rasps. “You’re not coming in my house and that’s final.”
“Randy.” Liam’s voice drops half a register carrying unmistakable authority. “You know the drill. We aren’t leaving until we’ve confirmed everyone in this house is safe. That includes Donna and Tyler. Now, you can let us in, or we can do this a different way. Your choice.”
Randy’s jaw works. For a moment I think he’s going to slam the door in our faces.
Then he steps back with a disgusted grunt. “Fine. Come in and see for yourselves. Nothing’s going on.”
The living room is worse than it looked from the door. A lamp is shattered on the floor. There’s a dent in the drywall near the hallway, fresh from the look of the crumbled plaster beneath it. A framed family photo lies face-down on the carpet, the glass cracked.
Liam moves past Randy toward the kitchen. “Hey, Donna. You okay?”
“Hi, Liam.” She lowers the dish towel from her mouth. Her bottom lip is split and swelling. She nods quickly, her eyes darting to Randy. “I’m fine. I just tripped.”
“You tripped,” I repeat flatly, and Liam gives me a warning glance.
“Yes.” Her voice wobbles. “It’s nothing.”
I scan the kitchen and spot a small boy sitting at the table, hunched over a coloring book. He’s gripping a crayon so hard his knuckles are white, and he’s not coloring. He’s just staring at the page with the rigid stillness of a kid who’s learned that being invisible is the safest option. I know the feeling well.
Liam is talking with Donna so I move to the boy.
“Hey, buddy.” I crouch down near the table, putting myself at his level. “That’s a cool picture of a dinosaur.”
He doesn’t look up. “Thanks,” he whispers.
“What kind is it?”
“T-Rex.”
“Yeah? That’s my favorite dinosaur.” I keep my voice soft. Steady. I don’t want him to panic just because we showed up. I remember how terrifying I found the cops at his young age. It always felt like they made things worse.
Behind me, Liam is still talking to Donna in a low voice, drawing her away from Randy’s line of sight. Randy stands in the living room doorway, arms crossed, radiating resentment.
“What more is there to talk about, Liam?” Randy calls. “She said she’s fine.”
I stand and turn to face him. “Mr. Schultz, we can’t just leave. Your wife has a split lip and there’s significant property damage in your living room. We need to document this.”
“Document what? She tripped,” he snarls, taking a step toward me. “You’re in my house and you think you’re going to boss me around?”
