Max stepped out of his Cherokee and walked casually through the park, giving a side glance to the garage of the Molinar house. Beside the overhead door was a regular door with a small rectangular window. The window had a piece of cardboard over it where glass had once been. Reed Harris’s entry point. Max looked around and saw no one, although a hundred eyes could have been watching him from the windows of the nearby houses. He would have to take a chance.

He walked to the driveway of the Molinar property as though he had every right to be there. At the door, he pushed the cardboard out of the way and reached through the hole, turning the knob with a click.

Once inside he closed the door and took a moment to acknowledge that he was committing a second-degree burglary. The thought came and went carrying little weight. Not for Max. Not anymore.

CHAPTER 40

The garage was dark, the busted-out window providing the only light. The door that connected the garage to the house had no windows, and the jamb next to the dead bolt had been busted where Reed had pried it open with a crowbar. Max tested the doorknob and found it locked, but a doorknob lock could be opened with a simple credit card.

Max paused for a second. If his instincts were correct, Peter Molinar had killed Sandy Voight and kidnapped Pip in return for Reed Harris having killed Olivia Molinar. If that were true—and Max now believed it to be true with every fiber of his being—then someone had to be watching Pip so that Reed could go to work and put on a show for Bolger. It seemed logical that Peter would be that person.

What didn’t match up was that Peter was in St. Paul, not the Northwoods. Max could be completely wrong about all of this, his current behavior nothing more than common burglary, or maybe Peter had brought the boy with him to St. Paul. It was possible that Pip was in this very house. That prospect had Max’s heart beating loud in his chest.

It was also possible that Peter was inside the house, hiding from Macey Greene and not answering his door. Max listened for any unusual sounds but heard nothing. He pulled out his wallet and lifted his driver’s license out of its holder—pliable yet strong enough to do the job. What would Niki think? It was just one more reason for Max to put that barrier up between them again. He was obviously unrepentant.

He jimmied the door, working the card into the crack between the door and the jamb, sliding it in just above the latch. Once he had snaked the card in far enough, he angled it downward, pushing and pulling the door a fraction of an inch at a time until the door clicked free.

It creaked as he eased it open. He paused again to listen and heard nothing. He closed the door behind him.