However . . . if the man’s off-kilter gait had been obvious, she’d have spotted it. Whatever abnormality Jeremy had picked up must be very subtle.

“So how come he wasn’t wearing a regular uniform that day? I mean, his clothes kind of looked like a uniform, but they weren’t. Like, there was no company name on his shirt. And why didn’t he have a truck?”

She could think of one answer—but if she shared her suspicions with the police, what were the chances they’d take the comments of a nine-year-old seriously, even if she vouched for his powers of observation and attention to detail?

And did she want to put him through what might be a traumatic experience?

Yet if his testimony could help the police find the lunatic who was planting fake bombs, wasn’t it worth the risk?

She rubbed her forehead and sighed.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

At her son’s uncertain question, she smoothed out her brow and put the car in gear. “Nothing, honey. Let’s get these deliveries done so we can go to the park with Dad this afternoon after he gets home from his meeting at church.”

“Yes!”

She caught his exuberant fist pump in the rearview mirror, smiling as she pulled out of the parking spot.

But as soon she left the fast-food restaurant behind, the corners of her mouth leveled out. She had a serious decision to make—but she wasn’t making it alone. John needed to weigh in as soon as he got home from his meeting.

And if they both agreed their son’s story was credible, their Sunday could end up including a visit from the police.

Yawning, Eve pressed the automatic door opener on her garage and edged around her car toward the lawnmower.

After hours of physical labor on the living room floor, cutting the grass didn’t hold much appeal—especially with temperatures hovering around ninety. But thanks to all the rain they’d had last week, her lawn was past due for a haircut.

The job shouldn’t take long, though. An hour, tops. By five-thirty, she’d be done with the chore and have the rest of the evening free. She could kick back with a soda on the deck and relax.

And who knew? It was possible Brent would call. He ought to be back from his camping trip by then.

In fact . . . maybe he’d join her if she asked.

Now wouldn’t that be a great cap-off for the weekend?

Grinning, she wheeled the mower out onto the driveway and pulled the cord. Two tries later, it roared to life, and she aimed it toward the grass.