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glass, Connor crawled after him.

Once they were both inside, they stood as still as they could, listening. Trying to figure out where Austin was. But the house was quiet. If Austin was moving at all, he was being careful not to be heard.

Connor wondered what was so important that Austin would have broken into the house to get it. Was there additional evidence stashed somewhere in here? Something even more incriminating than what he had already found? It seemed possible.

The window had dumped them into the living room. Connor tapped Olin’s shoulder to get his attention, then made a “follow me” gesture and quietly crept deeper into the house. If there was anything to be found here, he suspected, it would be upstairs. He and Austin hadn’t gotten to remodeling the second floor yet. Actually, except for the time Austin had walked him through his plans for every room, Connor hadn’t even seen it.

But he had barely put his foot on the first step when there was a scream from outside.

Dylan.

Connor’s instinct had been right. Austin wasn’t in the house. The broken window was a red herring, and Connor was pissed he had fallen for it.

Immediately, he and Olin broke into a run, this time heading straight for the front door. Connor pulled it open and they stepped outside, then turned as they heard an engine start. Connor looked toward the shed. Dylan was nowhere to be seen.

The van’s headlights came on, and the van lurched forward a foot. Connor wasn’t sure what that was about, but he was crystal clear on the big picture. Austin was behind the wheel of the van. He planned on getting rid of the evidence. And as an insurance policy, perhaps, he had taken Dylan with him.

CHAPTER 53

The van sped away, veering off the driveway into the front yard to get around the dumpster and kicking up dirt as it went.

“The truck,” Connor said, and Olin seemed to know what he meant. They raced for the GMC they had come here in. Connor knew there was no way they could keep up with Austin—by the time they even got to the truck and got it started, the van would be out of sight, probably impossible to find—but they had to try.

Then a voice behind them: “Guys!”

Connor whirled around to look. It was Dylan. She was standing just beyond the shed doors, waving her arms over her head.

Oh, thank God.

Connor and Olin stopped running. Since Dylan was safe and the odds were they wouldn’t catch Austin anyway, the best thing they could do was regroup. Maybe working together, they could figure out where he was going. After all, they had already gotten further working as a team than Connor ever would have on his own.

“I heard you scream,” Connor said as he and Olin hurried toward her. “What happened?”

“Austin came around the corner over there.” Dylan pointed toward the side of the house as she likewise trotted over to meet them. “He looked like he was going to come right up to me. It scared the crap out of me. But he got in the van instead, and I guess you know what happened next.”

“Do you think he didn’t see you?” Olin said.

“Oh, he saw me.”

It sounded to Connor like what had happened to him when Austin had returned for his phone at Connor’s house.

Dylan looked at the Mustang. “Did you know he had another car?”

Connor shook his head.

Olin put his hands on his hips, took a series of deep breaths. “What do we do now?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s going to go dump the van somewhere it’ll be hard to find. Maybe even sink it. He’s going to get rid of the evidence.”

“Can you put a tracker on his phone like you did Dylan’s?” Olin said.

“No. Certainly not without a computer, and even then, it might not be possible.”

“We need to get him to tell us where our parents are,” Olin said.

A thoughtful expression crossed Dylan’s face, and she cocked her head just an inch. “You know, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but if he’s getting rid of evidence and your parents are still alive, they might not be for long.”

It seemed like a fair assumption. Connor would kill his parents, too, if he was in Austin’s place, then find somewhere he could get rid of the bodies. “Maybe we don’t need to get him to tell us where our parents are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Austin has four keys on his keyring, not counting the one for the truck. Two we know go to the apartment, and the other two I assumed must go to this house. But he told me once he has a cabin somewhere. I bet only one of those keys goes to this house, and the other one is for the cabin. That’s probably where he’s keeping them.”

“Do you know where it is?” Olin said.

“I’m not sure if he ever said.” Connor turned to Dylan. “But you can find out, can’t you?” She had found his original birth certificate, after all. And since all property sales in New York were a matter of public record, he was certain she could find this, too.

Dylan smiled. “Can I see your phone?”

Connor handed it over. Then he and Olin waited while Dylan tapped the screen, scrolled, and tapped some more. Connor paced back and forth impatiently. With nothing to do but think, he asked himself the same questions he had already asked himself a thousand times. Now, though, they came fully formed with a clarity he hadn’t had before.

He no longer wondered: What did the kidnapper want? Why had the kidnapper taken his parents?

Now he wondered: What did Austin want? Why had Austin taken his parents?

They also came with a new question: Why had Austin befriended him before the abduction?

He knew he would not be able to think his way to the answers, but he couldn’t help trying.

“Full name?” Dylan said, her fingers poised over the screen.

“Austin Jones.”

She hesitated.

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