“Sir, I’m going to ask you one more time. Do you live here?”
“No, but I have every right to speak to my daughter!”
“Actually, sir, you don’t. If the resident doesn’t want to speak to you, you need to leave the property.”
“This is absurd! Officers, you don’t understand. She’s stolen from us! That car she’s demanding back—we’ve been using it for two years! It’s ours!”
“Is the car registered in your name?”
A pause. “Well, no, but—”
“Then it’s not your car, sir. I’m going to need you to leave now, or I’ll have to cite you for trespassing.”
“Trespassing! In my own daughter’s building!”
“Sir. Last warning. Leave now.”
I heard retreating footsteps, my father’s voice still protesting but fading. A knock on our door, gentler this time.
“Ma’am? Portland Police. It’s safe to come out now.”
I opened Lily’s door and went to the front door, checking the peephole first. Two officers stood outside. I opened the door.
“Mrs. Thompson? I’m Officer Ramirez. Are you alright?”
“Yes, thank you. Is he gone?”
“Yes, ma’am. We escorted him off the property and informed him that if he returns, he’ll be arrested for trespassing. I understand you have a cease and desist order in place?”
“Yes. My lawyer sent it last week.”
“Good. I’d recommend filing for a restraining order at this point. What happened today constitutes harassment, especially after you’ve already sent legal notice. Here’s my card. If he comes back, call 911 immediately, and reference this incident number.” He handed me a card with a case number written on it.
“Thank you.”
“Also, ma’am, your father mentioned something about a car?”
“It’s registered in my name. I’ve been making the payments. I asked for it back, and he’s refusing to return it.”
“That’s theft. You can file a stolen vehicle report. Would you like to do that now?”
