Max let the seconds tick by, the phone number finding a cadence in his head. He couldn’t let anything trip him up. He had to hold on to those numbers. The door creaked open and closed again. Max breathed a sigh of relief.

CHAPTER 31

Max stopped at the stand of trees near Reed’s house. Lyle stepped out and climbed into Max’s Cherokee. “Anything?” Max asked.

“This.” Lyle held up a small piece of paper, crumpled as if it had been wadded up at some point. “I went through his mail, his trash, his drawers. Found no evidence of an accomplice. No phone bills, no notes. But then I went through his hamper and in the pocket of a pair of jeans, I found this.”

It was too dark for Max to see, so he asked, “What is it?”

“A grocery receipt. Two days ago Reed bought a jar of peanut butter, chips, bread, mac-and-cheese, cereal, and a bunch of other food that might appeal to a young boy.”

“You don’t have to be a six-year-old to like mac-and-cheese.”

“True, but there was no mac-and-cheese in the cupboard. None of those items were in Reed’s kitchen.”

“He’s stocking food someplace else.”

“The kind of thing a man might do if he’s hiding someone nearby.”

Max smiled and reached into his shirt pocket for the piece of paper he’d scribbled on at the bar. He handed the paper to Lyle.

“What’s this?”

“Unless I miss my guess, that’s the phone number for the accomplice.”

“What?”

“Reed’s carrying a burner phone. That number called him tonight and said something to piss him off.”

Lyle looked at Max with astonishment. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“It’s a long story that involves criminal damage to a toilet—I’d rather not go into it—but if we can ping the number we can get a location. Problem is, we’d need someone in law enforcement to do that—and for that we would need probable cause.”

Lyle laced his hands together, steepling his index fingers and touching them to his lips. “The second phone proves nothing,” he said. “And the food could be an early Thanksgiving donation. Everything can be explained in a way that says there’s no crime.”

“I agree,” Max said. “And I get the impression that Bolger isn’t going to budge without something more substantial.”

“Oh, hell no. We take this to Bolger and he’ll go ask Reed—and there goes our lead.”

Max pulled into the empty lot of a strip mall and put the Cherokee in park. “I do have another idea,” he said. “We could track Reed’s vehicle. See where it goes. If he’s spending time at their hideaway, we might be able to find it.”

“Track him? How?”

Max pulled out his cell phone. “Attach this to his vehicle. I can track my phone online to see where it goes. Do you know what he drives?”

“He used to drive an F-150, but that was before I fired him. I’m not sure if he still does.”