But getting up to reach it was another problem. The ladder was useless, as there was no opening to rest the rails on. But maybe if he dragged his workbench to the spot below the opening . . . If he stood on the bench, he was tall enough that he shouldn’t have any trouble reaching the hinges and unscrewing them.

The hard part would come when he had to force the door open on the hinged side when the locked side wouldn’t budge.

But what had his miserable mother told him over and over again? “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, boy. Don’t you forget it.”

God, he was glad she died young. Early-onset dementia and some kind of paralysis in her lower extremities had sent her to the nursing facility long before her time.

Served her right.

He rolled to his side and winced. Shit, his face ached, his throat was on fire, and his crotch was still throbbing. Goddamn that Chloe! He pounded one fist against the stained concrete floor, then told himself to rein in his rage.

For now.

Until he caught up with her. With them. Zoe was out there, too. His back teeth clenched as he thought of how he’d been duped. By each of them. He’d underestimated both girls.

Myra would be beyond pissed.

Reaching up to the corner of the worktable, he struggled to his feet. The longer he lay down here, the farther the damned twins would get. He grabbed both sides of the workbench and, putting his back into it, dragged the heavy table inch by inch, scraping over the concrete.

Ignoring the sting of his own salty perspiration seeping into the cuts on his face, he managed to place the table beneath the opening. Then he found several screwdrivers, slipped them into the pockets of his apron, and climbed atop the heavy structure. He had to hunch a little, but after testing the first screwdriver, he dropped it onto the floor and used a second, a Phillips, which slipped perfectly into the grooves on the first screw.

A slow, determined smile spread across his jaw as he worked. Now the element of surprise would be on his side. Chloe, though spurred to get away, would think she was safe, and that was his advantage.

It wasn’t much, he thought as the first screw fell into his hand and he dropped it into the apron’s pocket, but it was something. And, by God, he’d use it for all it was worth.