He had thought about that night on the frozen lake thousands of times, trying to remember what he had felt as he watched Mikhail sink. Max had been half frozen, his fingers and toes throbbing and swollen. Every inch of his body had seemed to be in pain, but inside, he had felt nothing as he watched Mikhail die; he’d been sure of it.

But now he knew that that wasn’t true.

It had come to him as he held the toy car in Peter’s closet. In a court of law, that car meant nothing. Peter could have bought it for anyone. He could have gotten it for himself. It certainly didn’t amount to evidence of a kidnapping and murder. But for Max it meant everything. He was now certain that Reed and Peter had killed Sandy. He was sure they had Pip hidden away somewhere. He knew the truth and he would do whatever he had to do to save that child—and that’s when he felt it. It only lasted a second or two, but he recognized it right away, his mind becoming still, his pulse calming. It was as though every cell in his body understood that in that moment, Max had evolved into his truest state. Laws, rules, justice, vengeance, black, white, and gray—none of it mattered. He had found the toy car, and now he would find Pip.

Three years ago, when Max watched Mikhail drown, he had felt that same sense of peace. He had been the judge, jury, and executioner, and that had been right. As he stood in Peter Molinar’s house, staring at that toy car, he knew that if it came to it, he could do it all again.

He had been all wrong about his exile. He had banished himself to his cabin expecting to struggle under the yoke of his conscience, but his nightmares hadn’t been born of guilt. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his soul, he understood that it wasn’t the killing that still bothered him; it was knowing that he wasn’t sorry. How can a man atone for a sin that he refuses to confess?

He had exiled himself to the cabin hoping for a crucible, something to resurrect the good man he had once been, but that man no longer existed—if it ever had. Max Rupert was now a man of right and wrong, not rules and laws. If the law helped him, so be it, but if not… well, then damn the law.

Max dialed Lyle’s number. “Is he still on the way?”

“He should be in the area within an hour.”

“Go to my bedroom upstairs,” Max said. “In the back of the closet, I have a twenty-gauge shotgun and a twenty-two rifle. The shells are on the shelf above. Load ’em and be ready when I get there.”

CHAPTER 46

The first thing that Reed did when he brought the camping gear back to the shack was show Pip his new sleeping bag. It wasn’t some cheap slumber-party crap but a nice one rated for below zero. The boy looked at it but didn’t move from his bed.