Chapter Eight

In the morning, I hovered near the door and listened for movement outside. I toyed with the idea of staying in my room until help arrived or the murderer decided to end my life, whichever happened first. Alas, I knew hiding wouldn't stop someone determined enough, and not knowing anything would increase my anxiety. Time to face the others.

I opened the door when I heard footsteps and voices. Paul stood at the top of the stairs, while Isabel and Laura lingered near their rooms. They glanced at me when I emerged, but I did nothing but offer them a cursory nod. Awkward or not, I saw no reason to apologize for anything I'd done or said the previous night.

Adam and Dylan soon joined us. I thought our group would continue waiting on the landing, and then I remembered those present were the only ones left. Victor's absence left a noticeable void. I contemplated how we'd fare without his guidance.

Laura smoothed the front of her skirt and cleared her throat. "So…breakfast?"

We mumbled some sort of assent and moved toward the steps. Paul hesitated and put up a hand to stop us. "Before we start what I hope will be our last day here, this is what I'm thinking. I don't want to take any chances, so whatever we do, I suggest we do it as a group, or only one person leaves at a time." He looked at each of us in turn. "That goes for everything . Food, water, bathroom…one at a time, and maybe we'll get lucky and the killer won't catch any of us alone. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me," Adam said.

Isabel nodded. "It's probably the best we can do right now."

No one voiced any disagreements, and we headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. I gathered together the last of the pastries while Isabel rummaged through the refrigerator. "Anyone want any eggs?" she asked. "You can watch me prepare them, if you'll feel better."

"Sure." Laura reached for the glass pot drying in the sink. "I'll get some fresh coffee going."

Adam located clean plates and utensils while Paul emptied the remainder of a carton of orange juice into a pitcher. We worked together in a domestic routine, and the atmosphere of the room almost felt pleasant. If only the clinking silverware and smell of coffee brewing could help me forget the sinister events of the past and the threat of danger lurking around every corner.

Once Isabel finished cooking the eggs, we brought our meal into the dining room. No one attempted irrelevant small talk, yet some of the tension from the previous day had dissipated. Maybe we will find a way to survive this, I thought while spreading some butter on a roll.

After finishing the food on his plate, Paul downed his orange juice in one long gulp and slammed the glass on the table. "I'm going to head outside to see what's going on, or if I can at least make a phone call yet." He stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the wood floor with a loud screech. "If you don't mind, I think this time I'd rather go by myself. It's not like having a group with me yesterday accomplished anything, and Brittany died anyway."

I winced at the reminder.

"We'll all stay here until you get back," Isabel said.

I chewed on my roll and glanced out the dining room window. Sunbeams tried to break through the clouds, casting a yellow-gray glow over the trees. The rain had stopped for the time being, and I wondered about the flooding near the bridge farther down the mountain. Even if the storms had caused irreparable damage to the bridge, I hoped some of the cell towers in the area had been repaired by now. My brain warned me not to be too optimistic, but my heart wished for Paul to finally be successful in one of his exploratory journeys outside.

As I raised my mug of coffee to take a sip, a tremendous crash reverberated from outside the room, so loud, I swore the floor shook beneath my feet. Coffee sloshed onto the tablecloth when I jumped, and I put the mug down before I added more to the mess. I looked up in alarm, in unison with everyone else at the table.

"What the hell was that?" Dylan asked.

"I don't know." I tried wiping up the spill with my napkin, though my hand shook. "I'm not sure I want to know."

Laura set her fork down and adjusted her glasses. "I suppose we should go investigate." Behind the thick lenses, worry darkened her eyes, and her voice held a slight waver.

Isabel wrung her napkin in her lap. "I guess we have to."

I would have preferred to stay in the dining room and pretend nothing happened, but I knew they were right. Rising from my chair, I waited for everyone to reach the door and joined the back of the huddle. Unease rippled through me again, and I feared what we would find in the foyer.

Laura stopped in the doorway and gasped. I inched forward to peek around her and did the same. Across the foyer, one of the massive bronze statues had fallen near the front door. A hand and arm stuck out from beneath the metallic moose's giant antlers.

Adam rushed across the room and knelt next to the toppled statue. "Paul!" he shouted.

I predicted there would be no response.

The rest of us joined him. I tried to keep my eyes averted since I had no desire to see what effect the weight of the statue had had on Paul's body. "This is crazy," I murmured. "How did this even happen?"

Laura bent over and picked up a leg that had broken off the moose. Her brow furrowed when she held it closer to her face. "This appears too smooth to be a natural break. And there's something attached to it." With two fingers, she stretched out a thin wire so fine, it was practically invisible.

Adam crawled around to the opposite side of the statue, near the door. "Looks like the other end was attached over here." He stood and stared at the gory scene on the floor. "This is quite the elaborate trap. Someone put a lot of effort into setting this up."

Isabel twisted her fingers in front of her. "It could have been any one of us to walk into it."

I remembered Paul's advice from earlier in the morning and shivered. "And now we're not even safe if we stay together. Who knows what other dangers this place is hiding?"

No one answered. When the silence became unbearable, Adam cleared his throat and gestured toward the statue. "Well, let's get this cleaned up, and we'll take Paul back to his room. Dylan, can you give me a hand?"

"All right."

Each stood on one side and grabbed an antler. "Shit, this thing is heavy," Dylan muttered.

Grunting, they managed to shift the statue enough to free Paul's body. I glanced away when they picked him up off the floor. Since we'd arrived, Paul had appeared so strong, so confident…and even he was no match for the killer. Once again, any lingering wisps of hope I'd had disappeared with the latest victim Adam and Dylan dragged away.

The three of us women waited in the foyer for their return without speaking. Adam descended the stairs, his shirt rumpled, and wiped a few beads of sweat off his brow. "I'm going to head outside and pick up where Paul left off," he said. "Maybe something's changed, or I'll come back with good news."

"We'll all stay here," Laura said.

"Be careful," I called after him as he stepped around the statue and opened the front door.

With few other options, I trudged back into the library behind everyone else. I kicked off my shoes and curled up on the end of one of the couches, hugging my knees to my chest. Another day of nothing but waiting to see if I'd live past sunset seemed unbearable, but little else held my focus.

Dylan collapsed into an armchair and pulled out his phone to resume playing his games. Isabel and Laura started a new game of billiards, the clacking of the balls the sole sound in the room. Not long ago, the library had been filled with people. Now its vast size highlighted our dwindling numbers.

A tall figure darkened the doorway. I froze, but it was only Adam.

Isabel glanced up and rested her pool cue against the table. "Any luck?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Still can't get a cell signal. And from what I saw, the bridge hasn't been repaired yet."

"Ugh."

The billiards game resumed. Adam sat on the opposite end of the couch from me, yet said nothing, staring straight ahead. I rested my chin on my knees and tried to hide a yawn with my forearm. No matter how tired I was, I needed to remain alert.

Dylan's phone beeped from where he sat to my left. "I need my charger," he said, standing. We watched him leave the room and then resumed our activity—or lack of activity, in some cases.

I braced myself for something bad to happen while he was gone. Every noise startled me, anxiety gripping my limbs like it held them in a vise. Dylan returned without incident, however, and slid his chair closer to the wall to plug his phone into an outlet.

Time passed at an excruciating pace. I occupied my mind with fantasies of a rescue team bursting in, saving us all, and somehow outing the killer. Although I accepted we were stuck until further notice, not every flicker of hope in my heart had been extinguished. Yet.

Laura shot the last ball into the corner pocket and laid her cue on the table. "I'm going to get another cup of coffee from the kitchen. Anyone want anything? I promise I won't poison it."

We all murmured some form of polite refusal.

"I won't be long." She left for the kitchen, and again, I anticipated some sort of fatal disaster. Within minutes, she came back holding a mug, and the tedium continued.

Eventually the orange juice and coffee I'd consumed at breakfast flowed through my system and took their toll on my bladder. I didn't want to move, but I had to leave the room. Pushing aside my fear, I hopped off the couch and hurried toward the door. "I'll be right back," I mumbled on my way.

My imagination convinced me at least one floorboard between the library and the restroom had to be booby trapped, but I arrived at my destination in one piece. Flushing the toilet didn't set off any explosives, and nothing but cool, clean water flowed out of the faucet. I wiped my trembling hands on a towel and took a few deep breaths. Despite how much I yearned to be safe, paranoia made me want to crawl out of my skin. If a better balance existed, I needed to find it.

Upon my return to the library, I nearly collided with Adam, who had been waiting by the door. All attempts to calm my rattled nerves vanished, and I jumped back, my pulse racing. "What are you doing?" I snapped. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"Sorry. I was just keeping an ear out." He raised his hands in a gesture of apology, but then determination hardened his gaze. "I meant what I said last night," he said, his voice low. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not if I can help it."

I exhaled and tugged at the collar of my shirt. The surprise encounter, along with his attention, had sent a wave of heat through me. "Well, giving me a heart attack isn't the way to go."

"You're right. Again, I'm sorry." Adam beckoned for me to enter the room. "Come on, let's do something. We can't sit around staring at the walls all day."

Crossing my arms, I raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

He scanned the library and pointed at the small table near the windows. "How about a game of chess?"

"I'm terrible at chess."

A tiny smile crept across his face. "So am I. It'll be perfect."

Plopping on the sofa and waiting for another tragedy to befall us didn't sound like the better option anymore. "Fine," I said, sighing.

Adam pulled out one of the chairs and waited for me to sit before taking the seat across from me. I watched him set up the board. "Aren't you afraid the others will think we're conspiring or something?" I asked.

"I don't care what they think." He placed a row of pawns along the black and white squares. "You're the only one I care about in this room."

I propped my elbows on the edge of the table and stared down at the board. "I suppose I should be flattered."

"If you'd like. But you don't belong here with the rest of us, so if anyone's leaving this place alive, it should be you."

My eyebrow shot up again. "What do you mean?"

Adam positioned the last piece on my side and leaned back in his chair. "I'm still trying to figure out what we all have in common, why we were brought here. Obviously, it was all a ruse—my invitation and ticket didn't really come from a former client, Paul didn't win a contest, and so on. But your appearance here is an accident, we've established."

I thought of my sister and wondered what she could have done to make anyone want to hurt her. The same thoughts regarding the charming man sitting across from me flitted through my mind. "So, what did you deduce?"

"Not much." He picked up a pawn and moved it forward two spaces. "I won't say I've lived a perfect life, but I can't think of a reason why someone would want to kill me. Especially in such a bizarre, twisted way like we've seen."

I decided on my first play, sliding out a pawn of my own. "Perhaps it's another case of mistaken identity, like with me."

"It's possible." Shrugging, he moved his knight in an L-shape. "Or I might be way off base, and some psychopath picked us all at random."

"Also possible." I sent a bishop diagonally to the edge of the board. "But maybe we shouldn't be worried about a motive right now. I've been thinking more about the means for these murders."

One side of Adam's mouth curled up in a half-smile. "Oh, really? What are your findings, Detective?"

I snorted, the closest I could get to a laugh in our dire circumstances. "Like you, not a whole lot. Yet, after this morning in particular, something's been nagging at me." Leaning forward over the board, I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Whoever the murderer is, he or she has been moving around unnoticed. The trap Paul walked into must have taken some time to set up."

"Done at night, I assume."

"Right. But even Victor's death had me thinking…was the killer really brazen enough to waltz past all our rooms while we were showering and changing, go downstairs to whack him over the head, and come back up the staircase and risk being caught by someone else?" I rubbed my arms, the chilling thoughts causing discomfort. Even sitting in this secluded corner of the room, I squirmed as if someone watched me, waiting to plan their next attack. "We're missing something."

"Hmm." He tapped his fingers on top of one of his rooks. "What's your theory, a secret passage?"

I shook my head. "Don't be ridiculous. I doubt those exist in a newer building like this."

His face took on a more serious expression, and he moved the rook. "I know, I know. You have a good point, though. It is rather curious that the killer's been moving around so freely." He gestured toward the others. "Too bad we were the ones outside and not searching the house. I don't know if they'd share their findings."

As if on cue, Isabel announced her intentions to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I nodded in acknowledgement and continued. "Our pool of suspects is growing smaller. I'd prefer not to share much with them, either."

Adam's full grin made its appearance, along with those endearing dimples. "So you've ruled me out, then?"

I pretended to focus on the chess set. "I didn't say that."

"I shouldn't push my luck." He slid another piece closer to the center of the board. "What do we do next?"

"Not much other than what we've been doing." I studied the board to determine my next move. "Sit here and try not to die."

"It's better than any plan I can come up with." Folding his hands in front of him, he reclined in his chair while I deliberated. "We could also attempt to act like there's nothing sinister going on and just talk, like we did the other night."

I tried to hide my smile and hoped my face wasn't turning pink. "We could," I said, finally moving my other bishop. "Since there isn't much else for us to do."

"Even if there was, I'd choose learning more about you." Adam captured one of my pawns and placed it on his side of the board. "Tell me more about the fascinating world of graphic design."

He managed to elicit a genuine chuckle from me. "Fascinating. Yeah, right." I reached for a knight but changed my mind. "I'm sure you want to hear all the details about how much time I spent designing a new logo for a client's business per his specifications, only to have him try to argue for a reduced fee because he wanted the letters to be blueish-green and not greenish-blue."

"Yes. That is exactly what I want to hear about."

"Liar." I settled for the safe choice of moving another pawn forward. "But since, as we've pointed out, we have nothing better to do, I guess I can humor you."

He inched his pawn toward mine. "Or tell me what you do outside of work instead."

"My sister is under the impression I do nothing but read and fill out the daily crossword puzzle in the newspaper." Rolling my eyes, I shrugged. "She might not be too far off base."

"Hey." He moved back, the chair squeaking beneath him. Dipping his head, he caught my gaze across the board. "We're not talking about her. We're talking about you."

A pleasant warmth flooded my cheeks again. "Well, I do like to read. But I've been trying to get out of the house more. I'm considering taking up hiking or something along those lines."

"After this extended weekend, I'd think you'd want to avoid mountains for a while." A roguish twinkle lit up his hazel eyes. "Though, if you're up for it, I'm familiar with some local trails near my place."

"We'll see." I swiped his pawn off the board and pursed my lips. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here."

Isabel returned with a full glass of water, and I realized I hadn't been concentrating on all the ways she could die while out of the library. Maybe chess did have its merits after all. If letting my guard down around Adam proved to be a mistake, at least I wasn't spending my last moments in terror, hiding in a ball on the couch.

I continued our breezy conversation in an effort to further ignore our surroundings. "Your turn. Not in the game, I mean. It's your turn to captivate me with tales of what's bound to be your glamourous, fast-paced marketing job."

He stared into my eyes, making me feel like the only other person in the room. "Oh, I think I can manage that. Whatever it takes to keep improving your opinion of me."

We chatted and played, laughed and shared. Truthfully, I had little interest in the outcome of the game and didn't care when he captured more of my pieces. "Checkmate," he said as the clock struck one.

The others stopped what they were doing and looked up. "Lunch?" Laura offered with a shrug.

We assembled some paltry sandwiches with what we found in the fridge. "What's the food situation?" Dylan asked. "Like, I know we're not going to starve here, but if we don't need to limit ourselves…"

Laura handed him another piece of bread without saying anything. Isabel glanced out the window. "The weather wasn't too bad today. Hopefully, people were able to start repairing the bridge, or even the cell towers, and we can get out of here soon."

"Not soon enough," I muttered. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Adam's shoulders sag, and I felt a twinge of guilt.

If my words disappointed him, he recovered quickly. "Dylan, if you want another sandwich, I doubt anyone will hold it against you."

Dylan shoved his phone in his pocket and picked up a plate. "Maybe later. I just wondered."

We ate in our usual silence. The lack of conversation bothered me less than the prior days' disputes. Arguments were dangerous diversions, I'd decided, and the tentative peace fanned those relentless flames of optimism.

"I'll clean up in here," I said once everyone finished. "It'll give me something to do." No one else made a counter offer, and I rinsed off the dishes in the sink as they filed out of the room. Through the window, I gazed at the rear of the property. A neat little garden sat beyond the back door, though the heavy storms had torn apart the few remaining plants. Beyond the dirt square, curling vines climbed up a trellis to the balcony outside our rooms. Aside from the gruesome events I'd witnessed, I acknowledged the quaint beauty of the lodge and surrounding property. I wished I'd been able to enjoy it under different circumstances.

Adam waited for me inside the library. This time, I didn't jump when I opened the door. "I'm going to run to the restroom really quick," he said, "and then how about a rematch?"

"Sure." I flashed him a genuine smile. "I'll reset the board."

I sat down and placed the pieces on their assigned squares. Adam returned within a few minutes, taking his seat while I finished up.

"You go first this time," he said.

"All right." I lifted my chin in mock arrogance. "I'm determined to beat you this round."

He laughed and leaned forward. "Bring it on!"

We started our next match. I wanted to concentrate on the game to increase my chances of winning, but something else tugged at the back of my mind. Since becoming less agitated and skittish, I was able to examine the details of the ongoing mystery with a clearer head. No criminal mastermind operated without mistakes. There had to be some clues left behind somewhere.

I replayed my prior conversations with Adam while we moved the pieces around the board. Motive or opportunity…why or how… I thought of the others' actions throughout the day, from meeting them on the staircase first thing in the morning to when they left me in the kitchen to wash the dishes after we ate lunch. The kitchen…with the cute garden and trellis I hadn't noticed before…

Suddenly, the answer to some of my questions exploded into clarity. Though little more than a theory, I felt confident I knew how the killer moved around without drawing attention. The wooden lattice outside provided plenty of footholds for anyone wanting to move from the upper floor to the lower without using the staircase or passing by the other bedrooms. I doubted anyone had checked to see if the kitchen door had been locked, and there might even be other ground floor entrances to the lodge I didn't know about.

Excitement at my discovery lasted mere seconds. I realized I'd only seen one person out on the balcony. Were Adam's desires for fresh air and admiring the scenery nothing more than excuses? After he brought me food and tried to comfort me last night, did he scale down the wall to set a lethal trap? Could he switch from acting kind and compassionate to plotting murder so quickly?

"Veronica?" His voice interrupted my thoughts. "You know it's your turn, right?"

"Oops, sorry." I moved a rook without caring where it landed. Across the room, Laura walked through the doorway with another cup of coffee. I hadn't even seen her leave. So much for being alert.

I debated whether to share my revelation with Adam. I wanted him to reassure me he wasn't skulking around the lodge and killing off our companions, but his words alone wouldn't fully convince me. The best course of action, I reasoned, was to act natural and attempt to remain observant.

"Careful," he said when I reached for a bishop. "You don't want to leave your queen unguarded."

I withdrew my hand. "Are you letting me win?"

"Merely offering some advice." The mischievous sparkle reappeared in his eyes. "The queen's as important as the king here. She should also be protected."

"Trying to charm me with chess strategies." I opted for picking up a knight instead. "Very cute."

"Is it working?"

I set the little horse back down and gave him an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe."

Despite my best efforts, I lost the second game. "One more round," I said when he plucked my king from the board. "I have to win eventually."

Before he answered, movement out the corner of my eye caught my attention. Dylan jerked his head up, looking away from his phone for the first time in hours. "Do you guys smell something?"

"Smell what?" I asked.

The high-pitched screech of an alarm pierced the air.

Adam leapt from his chair. "What is that? Where's it coming from?"

"It sounds like a smoke detector." Laura's pool stick clattered against the floor when she dropped it. "If it's not a crazed killer we're worrying about, then it's the freaking house burning down around us." She tossed her hair back over one shoulder and marched toward the foyer. "Come on, let's go."

We followed her out of the room. "I think it's coming from the kitchen," Isabel said.

Adam approached the door and gave it a tentative nudge. Thick smoke spilled out from behind it when it opened. Isabel yelped when he jumped back, and a new surge of panic slammed into me.

"Be careful!" I yelled.

Eyes wide, he put his hand on the door again. "It's not hot. I think it's mostly smoke in there, and we can stop it before it gets much worse." He pulled the edge of his shirt up over his mouth and nose. "There has to be a fire extinguisher around somewhere," he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Adam!" Frozen in fear, I tried to rapidly pick the best from a set of terrible options. I didn't want to become injured or incapacitated in the kitchen, but being forced outside to endure unpredictable weather and eventual nightfall didn't sound appealing either. I recalled how I'd felt when helping Victor out of the mud and I knew I had to at least attempt to do the right thing. Taking a deep breath, I barged into the smoky room.

Inside, I couldn't see more than a few inches in front of me. I reached for the wall and used it to help guide me around the perimeter of the room until I arrived at the rear entrance to the garden. I flung open the door and hoped some of the smoke would drift outside. After gulping in a few breaths of fresh air, I set out to do the same with the windows.

"Where are you?"

"Check the closets for an extinguisher!"

"Can someone get to the sink?"

"I think the smoke is coming from the oven!"

Confused shouts echoed throughout the kitchen, nearly drowned out by the incessant blare of the alarm. I groped my way to the nearest window and fumbled with the locks. Once I succeeded in getting it open, I knocked out the screen for good measure, then repeated the process with the others. I turned around, but the dark gray clouds limited my visibility.

On the other side of the kitchen, the oven door opened with a bang. I heard the loud whoosh of what I assumed was a fire extinguisher and stumbled toward the noises. Little by little, the smoke thinned out. I saw Adam leaning against the cabinets, wiping sweat from his forehead. Dylan stood beside him, holding the bright red canister he'd emptied into the oven.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"What?" Dylan shouted over the shrill whine of the smoke detector.

Adam held up one finger to pause our conversation. He hoisted himself up on the countertop and reached for the alarm mounted on the ceiling. With the push of a button, deafening silence washed over the kitchen.

Isabel tentatively approached the oven, as if it would burst into flames if she got too close. "What happened? I mean, how did the fire start?"

Adam hopped off the counter and grabbed a nearby pot holder. He used it to slide a rack out of the oven, which held a charred, black mass in the center of a tray. "I doubt we'll ever know what this was," he said, nudging at the shelf with his foot. "Whether someone wanted to burn the place down or just set us on edge even more…well, there's yet another mystery."

I reached over the smoldering clump and turned one of the oven dials. "It's set pretty low. I don't even remember if it was on when we were making our sandwiches for lunch."

Dylan dropped the fire extinguisher and grimaced. "We were all in and out of the library throughout the day. Anyone could have set this up at any time."

Isabel nodded, then looked around. "Where's Laura?" Notes of concern colored her voice.

Oh no . I swallowed. "Maybe she went back to the library?" I didn't believe the words coming out of my mouth.

Adam ran a hand through his hair. The worry in his deep-set eyes matched my trepidation. "Let's go find out," he said with a sigh.

We peered into the foyer. Empty. Together, we plodded across the room with heavy steps. Isabel pushed on the library door, which swung open with a foreboding creak. No sign of her.

Our search ended in the dining room. Laura's body lay draped across the chair at the head of the table. The bright red hues of her hair offered a stark contrast to the bluish tinge of her skin. Her mouth hung open, frozen in surprise, and her hands were balled up beneath her chin. Upon closer inspection, I saw a pair of nylon pantyhose wrapped tightly around her neck.

The purpose of the fire became all too clear. We stood in a half circle, gaping at the gruesome sight before us.

Dylan let out a noncommittal noise and stuck his hands in his pockets. "And then there were four."