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Finally, I gave him Collinson’s info and begged him to call the man. Just as I was wrapping up, the fire marshal arrived and asked me a series of questions as well.

Later, as I nearly staggered out to the parking lot, I called Collinson myself, reaching his voice mail. I told him I had important news and desperately needed to speak to him.

It was an utter relief to be back in my car and headed for Manhattan, but even with the heater cranked up and Maria Callas arias playing, I couldn’t keep my body from trembling. It was partly from the exertion of hurling all those bales of hay, but also from the sheer terror I still felt. I knew that if there hadn’t been a pig door in the barn, I probably would have died tonight.

I hadn’t traveled far on the highway when my BlackBerry rang. I had service again. I realized that I had never deleted my SOS e-mails to Landon, Jessie, and Beau, and they’d all gone through. When I answered my phone, a frantic Beau was on the other end.

“Are you okay?” he demanded anxiously. “Are you still in the barn?”

“No, I’m out and I’m fine. But I was nearly killed.” I felt myself tearing, and I shook the drops away. I blurted out what had happened since I’d sent the message.

“God, Bailey, I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice laced with worry. “Is there any chance this person could be following you?”

“No, I bet they beat it out of Pine Grove once the fire started. . . .”

“Do you want me to come meet you someplace?”

“I’m okay. But—it would be great if you could be there when I get home. I’m still pretty shaken up.” Without warning, a sob caught in my throat. “It was just so scary when the smoke filled the barn.”

“Why don’t you call me when you’re about twenty minutes away. I’ll just hop in a cab.”

“You’ve got to do me one other favor. Will you get in touch with both Jessie and Landon and tell them I’m fine? I want to concentrate on the road.”

As soon as I signed off, I checked the rearview mirror instinctively. I was positive I wasn’t being tailed. There’d been stretches on the trip so far when no one had been behind me. But that didn’t mean I was safe. Once the fire starter learned that his efforts had been thwarted, some other deadly plan would surely be hatched.

I’d have to be as careful as I possibly could. My trouble in Pine Grove had sprung in part from not watching my back well enough. I’d thought I was being such a smarty-pants by arriving at the barn early, but my assailant had come even earlier, and must have been parked out in back the whole time. And lucky for them, my BlackBerry hadn’t worked.

Suddenly my stomach flipped over. Had it just been luck? I wondered. Or had the killer known I had no service in that part of Pennsylvania? And then, one after another, my thoughts fell into place, like a key tripping a lock. Yes, the killer had known, I realized. I now had an idea who the fire starter might be. The problem was, there were two possibilities. I was going to have to figure out which one was the culprit.

I made better time than I’d planned, driving eighty miles an hour in my desperation to put as much distance as possible between Pine Grove and my sorry ass. I dropped off the rental, and once I found a cab, I called Beau, telling him I was on my way to my apartment. I felt almost weak from hunger and asked him to pick up food, anything. Plus, having a few more minutes to myself would give me a chance to pop by Landon’s and reassure him.

It turned out to be a good plan because Landon was nearly bug-eyed with worry when he opened his door.

“I can’t tell you what a fright your e-mail gave me,” he said after we’d hugged. “I was about to call not only the police but also Homeland Security. Thank God Beau called me a few minutes later.”

I took him through the story quickly, knowing Beau would be arriving any minute.

“Who’s doing this to you?” Landon asked.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I have a few ideas.”

“And you’re going to fill the upstate police in, right?”

“Yes. The detective in charge up there didn’t seem to buy my idea that Devon might have been murdered, but this may change his mind. The problem is that he doesn’t have any jurisdiction down here, and that’s going to limit what he does. Hopefully he can involve the state police.”

“Please don’t give me the usual Bailey Weggins punch line—that you’ll have to take matters into your own hands. It terrifies me when you say that.”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

“Oy.”

“But I’ll be careful. I made a mistake at the barn—I let down my guard. I just can’t do that again.”

After giving him another squeeze, I scampered back to my place. Jessie called just while I was letting myself in, and I reassured her, too. And then moments later the doorman was buzzing to tell me that Beau was on the way up. He arrived carrying not only a deep-dish pizza but also a bottle of wine. As soon as he set the stuff down, we hugged each other fiercely.

“I’m just so relieved you’re all right,” he said, pulling back enough to study my face. “In those two minutes between when I read your e-mail and talked to you on the phone, I felt totally frantic.”

“Thanks for being there for me tonight.”

“What do you need first? Pizza? Wine? A shoulder to cry on?”

“Everything at the same time,” I said.

I practically inhaled the pizza, though I also managed to fill in the blanks of the story for Beau. When I’d polished off three slices, I leaned back into one of the chairs at my dining table and took a slug of wine. Beau sat across from me, his back to the window. Behind him was my enchanting Manhattan view, at this hour just the dark outline of a dozen apartment buildings dabbed with lights and topped with old wooden water tanks. It always seemed wonderfully fake to me, like the backdrop for a Broadway show.

What a relief to be here, I thought—not just safe in my apartment, but with Beau.

“I’ve never seen you devour food that way,” Beau said, laughing. “There were a couple of times where I thought I might have to administer the Heimlich maneuver.”

“I think it’s because I’m so hyped up. Being trapped in that barn and then smelling the smoke and not knowing if I’d get out. I guess feeling lucky to be alive has made me ravenous. I want to consume everything in sight.”

“Should I take that as a promise or a warning?” Beau said, smiling.

I laughed. We had once again shoved our troubles aside because of Devon Barr, but that was okay.

Beau’s expression turned suddenly sober. He pushed his chair back and crossed one leg over the other.

“So the person who did this was surely one of the houseguests. And they were all out in Pennsylvania, right?”

“Yes, they were all there,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure that whoever locked me in the barn is also the one who put Sherrie up to calling Nash. It’s all part of a plan to shut me down.”

“And obviously the reason for their actions is that they’re afraid you could expose them.”

“Exactly. The person must be the one who put the Lasix in Devon’s water.”

“So who has your vote at the moment?”

“It’s someone pretty clever,” I said. “They found a desolate location, waited for me to arrive, and had the accelerant ready. The only person I’d automatically eliminate would be Tory—she doesn’t seem smart enough to know how fires even start.”

“But they weren’t all that clever, were they? You could have called 911 and been rescued fairly quickly. It was fortunate for them that you had no service.”

“No,” I said. “That’s what I thought initially, but on the drive back I realized it wasn’t at all a matter of them being lucky.”