“Both of you stay in the car,” Deacon ordered as soon as he’d parked in front of the house.
It took Max a second to realize why he’d said that. There was a large, gaily wrapped package sitting on the front porch. “You are not going to see what’s in that,” Max told him.
“Not planning on it,” Deacon replied. Taking out his phone, he made a call. “I want to report a possible problem,” he said to what Max could only presume was a 911 dispatcher. Deacon went on to explain, giving the person Max’s name and address before hanging up. “They’re sending a patrol car, and an officer with a bomb-sniffing dog.”
“Oh, hell. You think…?” Max said in disbelief.
“No. But the dispatcher said they weren’t taking any chances that he could have left something that would blow up when you opened the box.”
“D
