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at the boy’s jeans for crumbs.
    Billy gazed around the home—if it could be called one. Take-out boxes and junk mail littered the floor. He’d heard the term trailer trash , and he suspected this was an example. Not that he judged Andy. Nope. He couldn’t blame Andy. The boy had explained that his parents just up and left. That was hard to grasp. Sure, fathers tended to run off—Billy’s own had—but mothers weren’t supposed to do that. Yeah, his mom could be pretty crazy, but she would never have left him. It was a shame that Andy didn’t have a sister like Mace, or maybe a grandma like Nan. They’d have taken care of him. Of course, Andy said he didn’t need anyone. He worked at a fast-food place where they fed him on his shifts and let him bring home any mistakes from the kitchen. Pride had filled the teen’s eyes when he’d claimed to make enough money to pay the utilities, his cell phone, and to buy dog food for Spike.
    Why had Andy picked him up? The question still jumped around Billy’s confused brain. If it was for money, the kid hadn’t asked yet. Maybe the boy was just lonely. He sure as hell didn’t have anyone else in his life. Then again, it was probably because he thought it was cool to help an escaped prisoner. There might have been a day when Billy believed that, too. But right now, nothing felt cool about this. And when Andy asked Billy why he’d gone to jail, Billy’s answer had been short. “I made a mistake.”
    The dog stirred beside Andy. “It’s been four hours since you called her.”
    “She’ll come.” Billy refused to think that something had happened. Ellie had been so scared when he’d told her that Tanks had escaped. Somehow, Billy had managed to calm her down and tell her what to do. At least he hadn’t screwed that up. He’d almost reminded himself of his sister: taking care of situations, telling others what needed to be done. Not that Mace would ever have gotten herself into this jam. Why did he always get messed up in things?
    He wanted to call Mace to see if Ellie had gotten there yet, but he was afraid the police had tapped her phone. And while he wanted to see his sister, he knew she would try to talk him into turning himself in. That wasn’t an option, not until he fixed this.
    Stepping over a pile of dirty clothes, he bit the inside of his lip. He could almost hear Mace saying, Don’t bite your lips raw—it’s just gonna hurt . She was right.
    His sister had always taken care of him. But now it was his turn to take care of her. Especially when this was his fault. He wouldn’t let Tanks hurt Mace or Ellie.
    He thought about Hal. Was the guard alive? Images flashed in Billy’s mind of the man lying on the ground, blood oozing from his chest. Then he saw the other inmate, Brandon, his prison uniform soaked in red. Billy wanted to puke.
    The gun tucked into the waistband of his pants felt heavy and cold against his hip. Part of him wanted to throw it away, but another part wouldn’t let him. He’d messed up. He wouldn’t be a coward again. David Tanks had to be stopped, and it no longer mattered what happened to Billy himself. Hadn’t Mace told him that he had to grow up, to stop thinking about himself and start thinking about other people? A spray of light danced across the blinds, followed by the sound of a car pulling down the gravel street. Billy ran to the window, praying it was Ellie and that she’d brought Mace. But the car drove past, its red taillights winking in the darkness.
    “That’s my neighbor,” Andy said. “He works second shift…when he works. Mostly he just hides from his ex-wives.”
    Billy bit down on the inside of his lip so hard he tasted blood.
    It was midnight when Jake pulled his car into the precinct parking lot. “You can head home,” he told Donaldson, who sat in the passenger seat. He opened the car door but didn’t look forward to getting out; he was still sore from his run-in with a certain brunette’s knee.