"You live at this address?"
"Yes, sir."
"Name."
"Jordan Davis."
Julian wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Julian Davis."
"Parent or guardian?"
"Our mom, Tanya Davis."
Hayes's expression did not change.
"She home?"
"She's coming."
"You have identification?"
Julian stared at him.
"We're ten."
Jordan quickly said, "We can show you inside. Our backpacks are inside. Our room is upstairs."
Hayes held up a hand.
"Nobody goes into the house. Stay right here."
Patricia stood near the sidewalk with her arms folded.
She had stopped smiling.
But she had not left.
Jordan looked down the street.
A gray SUV turned the corner.
He recognized it instantly.
"Mom."
Tanya saw the cruiser first.
Then her sons.
Then Patricia.
She braked hard enough for her work bag to fall from the passenger seat.
For one second, she remained behind the wheel and felt every frightening possibility arrive at once.
Then training took over.
Do not run toward an armed officer.
Do not shout from a distance.
Do not make the scene harder for your children.
She parked in her own driveway, stepped out, and walked across the lawn.
"Officer?"
Hayes turned.
Tanya kept both hands visible.
"Is there a problem?"
"Ma'am, do you live here?"
"Yes. This is my home. Those are my sons."
Hayes looked at the twins.
Then at Tanya.
Recognition arrived slowly.
"Wait. County Administrator Davis?"
Tanya's eyes did not leave his.
"Yes."
Hayes's hand moved away from his belt.
His shoulders changed.
Not dramatically.
Enough.
"Ma'am, we were responding to a report of possible theft and suspicious activity."
Tanya looked at the Christmas lights in Patricia's hand.
"Theft?"
She turned toward Jordan.
"Are you hurt?"
He shook his head.