waited most of her life to see what was behind the door.
With rigid fingers, she opened the door, in reality and in her mind. And
she knew.
"Oh my God."
"Emma." Bev, soothing the baby on her shoulder, reached out. "What is
it?"
"It was Pete."
"What? Is Pete in the hall?"
"He was in Daffen's room."
Bev's fingers closed over Emma's arm. "What are you saying?"
"He was in Daffen's room that night. When I opened the door, he turned
and looked at me. Someone else was holding Daffen, making him cry. I
didn't know him. Pete smiled at me, but he was angry. I ran away. The
baby was crying."
"It's Samuel," Bev murmured. "It's not Daffen, Emma. Come sit down."
"It was Pete." On a moan, she pressed her hands to her face. "I saw
him."
"I'd hoped you wouldn't remember."
When she lowered her hands she saw him standing in the doorway. He held
a flashlight in one hand. And in the other a gun.
Clutching the baby, Bev stared at the shadow of the man in the doorway.
"I don't understand this. What's going on?"
"Emma's overwrought." Pete spoke quietly, his eyes on Emma's. "You'd
better come with me."
Not again, Emma told herself It wouldn't happen again. Before she could
think, she hurled herself at him. The flashlight popped out of his
hand, sending the beam in crazy arches over the walls and ceiling.
"Run!" She screamed to Bev as she struggled to get up and away. "Take
the baby and run. Get someone. He'll kill him." She shouted, kicking
out as Pete grabbed for her. "Don't let him kill another baby. Get
Dad."
With the baby wailing, Bev fled toward the confusion on stage.
"It's too late," Emma said when Pete hauled her to her feet. "They'll
catch you. They'll be here any second."
Already spotlights were glowing on stage. Shouts and running feet
closed in. Desperate, he dragged her onward. Emma stopped struggling
when she felt the barrel of the gun under her jaw.
"They know it's you."
"She didn't see me," he muttered. "It was dark. She can't be sure."
He had to believe that-had to. Or it was all over.
"She knows." Emma winced when he dragged her up a flight of stairs.
"Everyone knows now. They're coming, Pete. It's finished."
No, it couldn't be. He'd worked too hard, planned too carefully. "I
say when it's finished. I know what to do. I can fix it."
They were above and behind the stage now. Far below she could see the
lights and confusion. Taking her hair, he wrapped it tight around his
wrist. "If you scream, I'll shoot you."
He needed to think. Confused, he continued to drag her along. She
stumbled, and as he pulled her up, she yanked the pin from her jacket
and let it drop. Seizing a chance, he shoved her into a freight