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“That’s ridiculous!”

“You loved him and you were having an affair with him. Are you telling me you didn’t have his key?”

“Of course I had his key! But how the hell would I know just how many keys Aaron had out there?”

“He didn’t have any other keys out there, Sandra.”

“How do you know that?”

“Aaron told me.”

“Aaron? Aaron is dead.”

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

She stared at him, her lips twitching with derision. “You spoke to a dead man?”

“He spoke to me,” Dustin said. He could well imagine Frank Vine and Jimmy Callahan frowning at each other in the observation room. Their lips would be twitching, as well.

Dustin leaned forward. “You had the only extra key, Sandra.”

“I didn’t kill Aaron! I loved him.”

Dustin eased back in his chair. “You know,” he said slowly, “I don’t think you realized he was going to be killed.”

“He wasn’t killed. It was an accident.”

“I just told you—I’ve talked to Aaron. Or, as I said, he talked to me. It wasn’t an accident. He didn’t reach for anything electrical, including his iPod charger, while he was in the bath. Someone was in his house. Someone who probably knew he liked baths.” He shook his head. “I never took you for stupid, Sandra.”

“Stupid! You bastard, I’m hardly stupid!”

“No? Then you did know what was going on. So, which is it? Are you stupid—or guilty?”

“Neither!” she yelled.

“Who had the key? Who did you tell about your affair? What was the real plan—if you didn’t want Aaron dead? And, if you loved him so much, why did you leave his house when you knew your accomplice was in there, lying in wait for him?”

She didn’t answer.

He stood up. “Frank? Frank, come and book her for murder. She’s definitely involved. She didn’t do the killing, but she was in on the conspiracy. She facilitated the killer.” He turned back to Sandra. “But then the whole thing got away from you, didn’t it? Then you started fearing for your own life, right? So you figured you had to keep quiet. Because unless we caught the killer—”

He broke off. He was pretty sure he had it figured out, but he needed to trip Sandra up just once.

He slammed his palms down on the table. “The Horse Farm was supposed to go under, right? But not so it could be sold to a Nashville lawyer. Right?

Sandra glared at him. Then she jumped to her feet and pointed to the one-way mirror.

“It’s his fault—all his fault! Jimmy Callahan! He was always talking about the countryside and how wonderful it is, but he said the Horse Farm was a nothing place. He’s the one who talked about the land, and how someone who came from such a long line of Tennesseans should be the one to own it! Someone like that could turn it into a special destination, he said. It was him—he started it all!”

Dustin turned and stared at the mirror himself; that wasn’t the direction he’d been going with this at all.

Before he could move, Jimmy Callahan burst into the room.

“What are you talking about?” he shrieked. “Oh, my God!”

* * *

Even as Olivia watched Drew, a dark silhouette in the doorframe with sunlight pouring in behind him, he pitched over. She hadn’t heard the whizzing sound that time; she’d been watching Sloan fall before she turned to Drew.

Something told her she needed to get the dart out of Sloan’s back.

She managed to rip out the tiny shaft and drop down by the sofa, ruining anyone’s clear shot at her.

It wasn’t Drew trying to kill her, though, because poor Drew was out on the floor. Sydney?

But Sydney was in the stables.

No, he wasn’t.

“Drew? Hey, Drew! Liv? Sloan? Where the hell is everyone?” Sydney had left the stables; he sounded perplexed, and he was on his way to the office.

“Sydney, no! Go back, get on the phone! Call for help!” Olivia shouted, staying down, hoping she was protected by the sofa—and the drugged bodies of the two agents with her.

Too late.

This time she heard the strange “zzzz” sound.

And she heard Sydney’s body hit the earth, a few feet from the door.

FBI agents are always armed!

Down in front of the sofa, she groped at Sloan’s body until she found the holster at his side. She struggled to find the gun—and get it out without killing herself. She had no idea how to use it.

It was a gun, she told herself; you took the safety off, you pointed and fired.

But even as her fingers curled around it, she heard movement behind her.

“Come on out, Olivia. They’re all down. And I don’t want to hurt you. Not yet. We’re going for a little ride. Don’t you want to buy all the time you can? Come on, now, get up—slowly.”

Olivia’s fingers were curled around Sloan’s gun. She straightened her back, which was toward the killer. Not allowing any other part of her body to move, she slipped the gun into her fingers.

“No more cutesy little dart guns, Olivia. I have a Smith & Wesson trained on you now.”

Olivia stiffened, arching, trying to pretend she was giving up.

She managed to shove the gun under the waistband of her jeans. Then she rose slowly, just as she’d been ordered.

She was terrified. She was going to faint, her knees would give out.... Being afraid could make you smart; that was what Dustin had said.

She hoped the gun didn’t protrude from her belly—or that she wouldn’t shoot off the lower portion of her body.

A shot suddenly exploded over her head, and Olivia froze in shock.

“Just wanted you to know I have a real gun with real bullets.”

She turned to face the killer she should have known.

“Where are we riding to? And which horse am I taking? You nearly killed Shiloh.”

She was answered with a careless shrug. “I had to be sure you’d come here today. So...don’t worry. We have a number of horses to choose from. Let’s go.”

* * *

Dustin drove in the sheriff’s department car with Frank Vine and Jimmy Callahan.

Not one of his phone calls to the Horse Farm had been answered. Malachi and Abby were on their way and backup vehicles, including ambulances, were behind them.

“Explain this to me again,” Frank said to Callahan. “Damn you, Jimmy, why the hell didn’t you figure out what was going on?”

“How was I to know I was dating a maniac?” Callahan demanded. “Frank, we talked about family history. I thought it was really interesting that she could trace her history back so far, and I also suggested that maybe she should consider taking a job in Nashville when it was offered. She might have gotten one of those ghost tour shows—she might have gone really far. I had no idea that...that...whatever!”

They reached the Horse Farm; Dustin paid no heed to the arguing officers.

He saw the prone body of Sydney Roux in front of the house and rushed to him, crouching down to check for a pulse. It was faint. On the porch, he found Drew. He, too, was still alive.

As he rushed into the house, he saw that Jane was trying to help Sloan stagger to his feet.

“Dustin, they used the darts.... We were down.... Olivia... I think Olivia pulled the darts out of us,” Sloan said, and swore furiously.

“Whoever...came in from the back—none of the dogs barked,” Jane told him.

“Where is she? Where’s Olivia?”

“I don’t know. But the attack came from inside the house,” Sloan said. “And whoever it was took my gun...”

Dustin rushed out. Sloan and Jane came tearing after him, but as they arrived at the stables, Jane faltered.