Rabbit dropped his hand. “I wasn’t supposed to catch you. Just watch you.”

This was just the kind of task Freddie used to assign to Mac. He watched people and buildings, delivered messages, and ran back and forth between Freddie’s camps. Freddie’s attention hadn’t been free. Mac had paid a high price for that “friendship,” and it was still costing him.

“How long have you been working for him?”

The kid blew long bangs out of his eyes. “Couple of weeks.”

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice. Get out now, kid, while you still can.” Mac released the teen. “Once Freddie sets his hook, you’re on the line forever.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

The kid’s simple statement hit home.

“Parents?”

The kid didn’t hesitate. “Dad’s in jail. Mom’s dead.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

Could have passed for much younger. That was what a life of chronic malnutrition did to a growing body. Mac might have lacked emotional support, but he’d always had a roof over his head and food in his belly.

“So you aged out of foster care.” What the hell was Mac going to do with him? “What about other family?”

“Got an aunt in Jersey I haven’t seen in ten years.”

Mac held up the kid’s cell phone. “Did Freddie give you this?”

Rabbit nodded.

Mac took the battery and memory card and ground them both under the heel of his boot. Then he tossed the phone into the woods and handed the kid his helmet. “We both know the only way you’re going to get away from Freddie is to leave town. I’ll give you two options: jail or Jersey?”

Rabbit took the helmet.

“Good choice.” Mac straddled his bike. The kid climbed on the back. The train station was a twenty-minute ride. They used Mac’s smartphone to look up Rabbit’s aunt’s address. Inside the small lobby, Mac studied the schedule and route maps, then he bought a ticket and handed it to Rabbit. “This will take you to Penn Station. From there, you’ll have to grab a local train into Jersey.” He handed the kid fifty dollars for food and sat with him until the train arrived. Mac didn’t leave until the train pulled out of the station. Then he climbed back on his bike and headed back to Scarlet Falls.

The kid should be safe.

But Mac couldn’t say the same about himself. No good could come of being on Freddie’s radar.

The man replayed the news footage he’d taped earlier. Detective Dane strode across the grass in front of the park. Weariness slowed her long lean legs, and with her hair contained in its usual tidy bun, there was no softening the exhaustion lines on her face.