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“What’s the plan?” Olin whispered.

“If we’re lucky, they’ll see the back door open and think we went out that way.”

“If we’re lucky?”

“You have a better idea?”

Olin shifted his weight onto his knees. “What did you mean when you said my parents weren’t coming back?”

“Does this look like the time?”

“Just tell me.”

“Fine. There was a fire, okay? Two bodies were found. Olivia told me it was my parents, but I don’t think so. Which means it was probably yours. Now shut up.” Connor regretted saying all that as soon as it had come out. He had already considered the possibility that the ring didn’t mean anything, that it was his parents, or that it was another couple entirely. They were the reasons he hadn’t told Olin about the fire before. (Okay, the main reason he hadn’t told Olin about the fire before was that he wanted his help. But the possibility that Olin’s parents weren’t the ones killed in the fire—that was part of it.) Either way, he couldn’t take it back, and this wasn’t the time to elaborate. All he could do now was exactly what he had told Olin to do—shut up.

At least, from the way they were positioned, he couldn’t see Olin’s face.

Connor listened for footsteps and eventually heard them.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

The words were delivered in a singsong voice that Connor recognized as belonging to Baseball Bat.

The sound of footsteps moved closer. “We just want our toll.”

Connor, who had been crouching down until now on just the balls of his feet, put one hand on the floor to take some of the weight off his knees. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay like this, but he was afraid if he moved, they would hear him.

“What’s this?”

Connor sighed with relief. Baseball Bat must have finally realized the back door was open. It wouldn’t be long now.

Then he heard Dylan scream.

CHAPTER 45

Connor immediately popped up from behind the shelving unit. Olin did not.

Baseball Bat had placed the laptop he had stolen on the counter beside the register alongside the bat and was holding Dylan by the hair. He spun her around, pulled her to his chest. She fought until he popped open a switchblade and held the knife to her throat.

“Well, well, well. There you are,” Baseball Bat said to Connor. His friends were standing behind him, unarmed but equally menacing.

By exposing himself, Connor had resisted his instinct to stay out of sight. It had taken every bit of will he had, but he wasn’t going to let something terrible happen to Dylan. Not after what had happened to his parents.

“Let her go.” The commanding tone he had attempted to muster failed him. The words came out more like a question.

Baseball Bat smiled with genuine amusement. Said nothing. He didn’t have to. As things stood, he was in control. If Connor wanted to change that, he would need a weapon of his own, and backup. He looked around, thinking fast. A few packages of gauze were scattered on the floor by his feet. Those wouldn’t work. Then he remembered the canes. They weren’t ideal, but they were the best he was going to get.

One step over to the wall and back. He grabbed the first cane he could get his hands on. It was aluminum with a hooked handle and a rubber tip. He held it out like a sword, the rubber tip aimed straight at Baseball Bat.

Connor kicked Olin. “Get up.”

Reluctantly, Olin did.

Then Connor directed his attention to Baseball Bat. “We’ll give you our wallets, but we’re keeping our phones.”

Baseball Bat bobbed his head from side to side, like he was thinking it over. Connor could tell he was mocking them. “I’ll take everything.”

Connor held one hand out to Olin, palm up. “Give me the car keys.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. Give me the damn car keys.”

Olin glanced at Baseball Bat, and then handed Connor the keys.

“These are the keys to a BMW. You’ll find it abandoned a block over. It’s yours.”

Baseball Bat said nothing.

“I’m going to give this to you, and you let us leave. Let’s not make this into a thing, okay?”

Still nothing.

Connor wasn’t sure what he should do. It was like negotiating with a statue. “I’m going to throw these to you, and you’ll let her go, all right?”

Baseball Bat’s smile was back. In the absence of any other response, Connor decided to take that as a yes.

The little voice in the back of his head told him this was a mistake. But he tried to convince himself that was just his fear talking. Since he had no better plan, this had to work.

He gently tossed the keys into the air. Baseball Bat did not move to catch them. Once they landed on the floor, one of the man’s friends leaned in and picked them up.

“Thanks. I’ll take your wallets and cellphones also.”

Connor silently cursed himself for not listening to that voice in the back of his head. He had just handed these criminals Olin’s keys, practically making himself complicit in their crime, and for nothing. All he had done was make a bad situation worse. From the corner of his eye, he could tell Olin was furious.

He wished he had the courage to step forward, swinging the aluminum cane. With the bat on the counter, he had the advantage of distance. But Baseball Bat’s friends would no doubt step in. If luck wasn’t on his side, they would beat him senseless. (Or worse.) And he did not even want to think of what might happen to Olin and Dylan. As much as he might have been able to will himself to stand in hopes of helping Dylan, he could not will himself into a fight he would certainly lose.

Perhaps a subtle shift in his expression or some small gesture gave away what he was thinking, because Baseball Bat said, “I’ve had enough of this shit.” He forced his hand into Dylan’s pockets, found