And then, somehow, convince him he was here to help.

The dashboard clock read seven. No time to waste. His mind was cloaked in static as he stepped out of the car and started across the lawn. The laughter of the trick-or-treaters seemed haunted, foreign, part of a world he didn’t belong in. A reminder of his sins. On the way over, he’d tried to plan what he would say to Richard, to anticipate the man’s response. But now, as his sneakers carved canyons in the dew-wet grass, everything vanished.

He stepped onto the porch and rang the doorbell. The windows on either side of the door showed blackness. He prayed he wasn’t too late, that he hadn’t missed Richard. He rang the doorbell again. Nothing.

Danny cupped his hands and put his forehead to the glass. Faint ambient light silvered the edges of furniture, gleamed off the hardwood, but there were no lamps on, not in the foyer or in the hall beyond. He felt a burning sickness. If Richard was gone, this whole drama was over. He leaned on the doorbell, holding it down, eyes intent on the inside. The chime rang Ding-dong-Ding-dong-Ding-dong-Ding-dong.

He had almost given up hope when he saw a flash of motion down the hall, as though someone had leaned out of the darkened kitchen to check the door. Releasing the bell, he yelled, “Richard!” He banged on the door, shouting his boss’s name again and again, conscious of the stares from a group of children, the wary look from the father escorting them. He didn’t care. He’d bang until neighborhood security took him away.

Finally the shape moved down the hallway. Danny stepped back, hands at his sides, his heart roaring. The door swung open. Richard’s eyes were sunken, and a three-day growth of beard shadowed his cheeks. “Now isn’t a good time.” He started to shut the door, but Danny moved faster, snaking a hand in to catch the edge.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Later.” Richard pushed against the door.

“I know why you can’t talk.” He kept his gaze level, meeting his boss’s eyes. “I know where you’re going. Trust me. We need to talk first.”

The pressure against the door eased, Richard staring back at him. Finally, he glanced at his watch, cursed, and opened the door. “One minute.” He stepped back into the hallway.

Danny stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He stood opposite his boss. The man looked like a wreck, and sour guilt corkscrewed in Danny’s stomach.

“What did you mean,” Richard said slowly, “when you said you knew where I was going?”

Danny swallowed, the spit going down hard. “I know about Tommy.” The words dropped like stones. “I know he’s been kidnapped.”

Richard gaped at him. “How do you know that?”

Danny took a breath, forced himself to meet Richard’s eyes. “Because I helped do it.”

Total silence fell humming across the room. Time slowed, and Danny found himself noticing incredible detail in things. The individual hairs of Richard’s beard. The grain of the hardwood. The clammy trail of a bead of sweat sliding down his side.

And then Richard lunged, his arms up, his pupils wide. He swung wildly, fists flailing, an angry growl coming from his mouth. Danny held his hands at his sides, taking the hits, letting Richard drive him back. “Stop!”

His boss ignored him, throwing an awkward punch that set Danny’s bruised ribs singing.

“I’m here to help,” he said. His foot caught on the edge of a throw rug, and he staggered against the wall. Richard stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Danny’s throat.

His mind raced. He could stomp the heel of his foot down on Richard’s arch. He could punch him in the throat and drop him, gasping. He could lean forward and drive his knee into the man’s groin. Breaking an amateur choke was the easiest thing in the world.

But he held still and let his boss squeeze, the pressure on his throat growing. The pain was surprising, blunt and ragged, and he fought to suck air down his windpipe. Automatically, his hands clenched into fists, but he made himself loosen them. Richard leaned close, his face right in Danny’s, the man’s breath sour with coffee and anger. Fairy dots danced in Danny’s vision, the darkness of the hallway throbbing with his pulse. He kept his eyes on Richard’s, trying to put it all into them, the pain and regret and fear, willing Richard to let go, let him help, knowing that Richard had an animal right to do what he was doing.

Finally, summoning all his strength, he managed to whisper, “Tommy.” For an instant, nothing happened, and then the grip slackened slightly. He spoke again, the words sandpaper on the inside of his throat. “I can help you save him.”

Richard leaned forward, his nose almost touching Danny’s. Then he gave a last squeeze, grunted with frustration and anger, and let go. Danny dropped to his knees, gasping for air. The hardwood swam. He fought for balance, every pump of his heart sending his head spinning. Richard stalked back and forth, his steps loud.

When he had his breath back, Danny rose, keeping his hands at his sides.

“Where’s my son?” Richard’s eyes glinted in the darkness of the hall.

Danny shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Is he all right?”

“Yes.” He paused, forced himself to speak the truth. “At least, he was yesterday.”

Richard’s hands balled into shaking fists. “What do you mean?”

Danny swallowed. An electrical storm raged across the inside of his throat. “We don’t have a lot of time. But there are some things you should know.” In broad strokes, he told Richard about his past, about Evan, how Evan had come looking for him. His boss stared at him, his mouth open.

“You kidnapped my son because this man asked you to?”

“I had no choice. He threatened Karen, jumped her in an alley last week.” He paused, made himself meet Richard’s glare. “Evan is impulsive, rash. That’s what makes him dangerous. I knew he’d do it either way. If I didn’t help, he would have hurt Karen. And I thought that if I were involved, I could protect Tommy.”

His boss glared, turned away, then back. “So why are you here now?”

“Because if you deliver the money alone, Evan is going to kill you and Tommy both.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s killed two people since he got out. One of them was my best friend.” He saw the flicker in Richard’s eyes. Danny was reaching him. “The other was a guy who overheard his call to you. This is his big score. He won’t take any chances.”

Richard turned away, hid his head in his hands. Danny heard a sound like a sob, quickly choked off.

“I’m here to help.” Danny stepped forward. “I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

Richard looked up at him, anger in his eyes. “You’ve lied to me for years.”

“Yes.” There was no point in softening it.

“Why should I trust you now?”

“It isn’t just Tommy. He-” His voice broke. “He has Karen, too.”

Richard snorted. “That’s why you’re really here. Not for me, not for Tommy.”

Was that true? Would he be taking these risks if Karen’s life wasn’t also at stake?

He hoped so. Sometimes that was all you had.

“No. I’m here to set things right.” He gambled, put a hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I’m here to get your boy back.”

His boss stared at him, a complex mix of emotions in his eyes. Pain, rage, and hatred. But Danny thought he also saw something else. Maybe hope.

“Evan called you today,” Danny said, hoping to draw him out.

Richard nodded slowly. “An hour ago. I only know his voice.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s nice to have a name to hate now.”

“When is the meeting?”

“You don’t know?”

Danny shook his head. “Evan took your son and disappeared last night.”

Richard stared at him, the calculations clear on his face. Danny knew this was the moment of truth – either Richard would trust him, let him help, or else it was over. The seconds ticked long and slow.