“Give me a minute.” He rose, walking away as he spoke.

“Don’t hurry on my account. I could use a few minutes to absorb this latest curveball.”

He put the phone to his ear and retreated to the foyer as he greeted Sarge—and prepared to beg off an assignment for tonight. The situation with Eve required his immediate and full-time attention. While there was no question Steve had broken the law, the challenge was gathering sufficient evidence to book him.

But the possible involvement of a third party put a whole new spin on this—and added an exponential degree of risk.

Meaning Eve was back in the bull’s-eye.

This was getting old.

As the low rumble of Brent’s voice drifted into the kitchen from the foyer, Eve stood.

Neither of them might want a soft drink, but she had to expend some of the restless energy coursing through her—and sitting here waiting for him to return wasn’t doing the job.

She should also warn Cate and Grace ASAP in case this guy followed through on his latest threat. Brent could be correct in his assumption that neither of them were at as much risk as she was, but until they nailed her nemesis, she wasn’t going to be able to shake her worry.

As she set their drinks on the table, Brent returned, his expression difficult to read.

“Trouble?” She pushed his soda toward him.

He picked it up and took a long swallow. But he didn’t sit. “A new development. It seems we may have an eyewitness to the fake bomb delivery.”

A surge of hope buoyed her spirits. “That’s fantastic news!”

“If it pans out. He’s nine.”

“Children aren’t credible witnesses?”

“Not under the age of seven, usually. Older than that? Depends on the child. This one’s closer to ten, which helps.” He finished the drink in a couple of long gulps and set the can back on the table. “I’m going to call a colleague of mine, see if he’s free for an hour to go along on the interview. I want a second read on whatever we hear. And I have to swing by the office first to prep. Walk me to the door?”

She followed him to the foyer. “I guess this means I’ll have to go back into red-alert mode.”

“Yes.” He paused, his hand on the knob. “I’ll swing by and take you to work again tomorrow.”

“I can’t keep asking you to get up at the crack of dawn to chauffeur me to the station.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered. If this continues to drag on, we’ll regroup and you can think about hiring Phoenix. But I don’t want you to break the bank until there’s no other option. Seem reasonable?”

“To me, yes. I’m not certain it’s a fair deal for you.”