PART 2
At first, my mother did not realize Sheriff Brooks was serious.
She gave one sharp laugh, as though he had made an inappropriate joke during a formal dinner.
Then she looked toward the guests standing beside the buses, apparently expecting someone to interfere.
No one did.
“Daniel,” she said, addressing the sheriff by his first name, “you have known our family for twenty years.”
“That is why I am giving you one final chance to cooperate.”
“You cannot arrest me on my anniversary.”
“I can arrest you for attempting to enter private property after receiving a lawful trespass war:ning.”
Dad stepped between them.
“Let us all calm down. My wife is upset.”
Sheriff Brooks looked at him.
“Mr. Carter, step away.”
Mom finally removed her hands from the gate, but she refused to place them behind her back.
She accused me of manipulating the sheriff and claimed the voicemail had been taken out of context.
While she argued, the catering manager approached with a clipboard.
“We need access within ten minutes,” he said. “The refrigeration units require power.”
“There is no event here,” I replied.
