A cell phone - this was the second time he'd forgotten such a thing in lieu of a flashlight. Good job, bright guy, he inwardly lamented, realizing as well that there were probably apps for that, but he had little to no time to contemplate a reply before Fiona had pulled down the mess of a pile, creating a sufficient distraction to squeeze past the concierge (and for a moment, Max's mind flash on Scooby-doo, "and I would've gotten away with it too, if you weren't for you meddling kids!"). Even with the presence of the concierge, he still had to wonder at the room's being, and whether or not it was the concierge who had closed the door. It must have been, for they hadn't heard two sets of footsteps, and that was where Max's detective skills ended, sadly, despite having played many rounds of Where's Waldo and Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego as a child.
Following Fee's advice, he didn't look back, mostly because he was too caught up with his hand in hers, being dragged once more but finding his footing quickly. The car came into sight, and Max couldn't hear any footsteps behind them, but then again through his own breathing and their combined running it would be difficult to tell one sound from another. Released from her hold, Max dashed around the car, feeling like he was running a marathon though by no means was he necessarily too out of shape - his sister's cooking and an evening regimen of walking from classroom to classroom saw to that. The passenger came open easily at his pull, and then he was in the seat, door closed, still breathing a bit heavily.
"Is he following? Are we going to get in trouble? Oh wow, that was crazy!" A hand pushed at his hair, adjusting his glasses before he took in the whole of the car itself.