“Plan B—if it comes to that. Tell me about the detectives.”

“There were three of them—” Spud stopped talking when he saw Pip standing at the bedroom door.

“Spud?” Pip said, a cautious smile on his face.

“Hey, little man, I got something for you.” Spud opened his duffel and pulled out a box with the car in it. When he showed it to Pip, the boy’s eyes lit up.

“For me?”

Pip ran to Spud, and Spud handed him the car. “Just for you.”

“Oh man, it’s… it’s… Thanks, Spud.”

“Jesus,” Reed muttered. “Go to your room and play. Spud and I have to talk.”

Instead of moving, Pip looked at Spud as if Spud might override Reed’s order.

“I’m your father,” Reed hollered. “Do as I say.”

“Don’t yell at him,” Spud said. “He’s just a kid.”

The gall. Reed clenched his jaw as he pushed down a surge of rage so powerful, he could have ripped Spud’s throat out with his fingers. Pip took his car and obeyed. When the door closed, Reed turned his attention back to Spud.

“What did the detectives want?”

“They asked me where I was on November sixth. How did they know about that? What happened, Reed?”

“How would I know? You’re the one who broke from the plan. You shouldn’t have gone to St. Paul.”

“This isn’t on me. I was here all week, quiet as a mouse. There’s no way they could have got to us through me. You’re the one who fucked this up.”

Reed had had just about enough of Spud’s attitude, barking like he had teeth all of a sudden. Reed glanced at his backpack. His Glock nine-millimeter lay a mere two feet away in the outer pouch. He could put an end to this partnership fast. But that would be rash, not strategic. It would feel good, but he would regret it as he tried to haul a six-year-old boy through blow-down country. He could put up with Spud for one more day, then decide whether or not to put a bullet in his head.

“Let’s quit pointing fingers,” he said. “We need to plan our next move. Tell me about the detectives.”

“One was Macey Greene, the detective working Mom’s case. Then there was an Asian woman… Niki something. The third was a guy they said was from up here.”

“Grand Rapids?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s his name?”

“Max. I don’t remember a last name.”

Reed ran through the officers he knew from Itasca County and shook his head. “There ain’t no Max up here. Are you sure he said Max?”

“I’m sure.”

“Was he driving an Itasca County squad car?”

Spud paused to think before saying, “No. I think he was driving a maroon SUV.”

Reed walked away from the table, a jumble of thoughts swirling. A maroon SUV—the car that had followed him two nights ago. But there was no Max on the force in Grand Rapids. And how was this Max guy connected to Macey Greene? How much did they know about November sixth? How the hell did they link that to Spud? None of it made sense.