She grabbed Sara by her shoulders and started shaking her. "Open your eyes, damn it. Wake up, Sara."

Another groan was her only response. Carrie looked at the clock on the bureau and saw that it was already one in the afternoon. Then she turned to the nightstand, and just as she expected, there was another envelope propped against the lamp with Sara's name written on it. The handwriting was identical.

Should she open it?

"Go away."

Carrie jumped at the sound of Sara's gruff voice. She was struggling to open her eyes. Carrie stepped back as Sara rolled onto

her back and told her once again to go away.

"No," she said. "Keep your eyes open. You have to wake up."

Sara heard her. She struggled to sit up but only made it halfway before she collapsed against the pillows. She focused on Carrie, awareness slow to penetrate.

"What… what are you doing here?"

"Listen to me," Carrie ordered. "You've been drugged. Do you understand what I'm saying? Please, try to pay attention. We're in trouble."

"Drugged?" She shook her head. "No, I don't take drugs."

In her frustration, she shouted at the woman. "They put it in the food, Sara. Can you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes. You're telling me the food was drugged?"

"Yes, that's right," Carrie said. "Keep your eyes open. I'm going to get a cold wet cloth. Come on, Sara," she coaxed. "Sit up."

By the time Carrie returned from the adjoining bath with a washcloth dripping with cold water, Sara had managed to pull herself up. Her shoulders were pressed against the headboard.

She looked at Carrie as though she was only just now seeing her. "Why are you in my room?"

Carrie tried to put the wet cloth on Sara's face, but the woman knocked it away.

"We're in trouble," she repeated. "I have to go wake Anne. So you have to listen to what I'm going to tell you. Okay? Can you concentrate yet?"

"Will you stop shouting at me? I'm awake now. What kind of trouble are you talking about?"

"The house is wired."

Sara blinked. "I don't understand."

"We're prisoners," Carrie said. "If one of us opens a door or a window, the house will blow up. Look at the glass door," she urged. "See the red blinking light?"

Sara wouldn't believe her. "This is just some kind of sick prank."

"No, it isn't," she said. Then she grabbed the envelope from the nightstand. "Open it," she said. "I got one too. Bring the letter

with you down to the living room, and I'll bring mine. Even if you can't believe it, don't open any windows or doors. Okay? Now I've got to get to Anne before she wakes up and decides to open a window."

Sara nodded. "All right. I'll meet you downstairs."

She was opening the envelope when Carrie rushed out of the room. Anne's suite was at the opposite end on the same level.

She ran to it.

Anne wasn't in bed. Carrie could hear her in the bathroom. She was throwing up. Carrie went to the door and knocked.

"Anne, do you need help?"

She didn't answer her. Carrie tried again and again.

She didn't know how long she stood there pounding on the door. Finally, Anne opened it.

The frail woman looked green. "What do you want?" she asked. She was swaying on her feet.

"Let me help," Carrie said. She put her arm around her waist, thinking it was the size of a pencil, and helped her back to bed.

"You should stay away from me," Anne said, her voice weak. "I've got some kind of a bug. Now you'll get it."

"No," Carrie said. "You don't have a bug." She was all but carrying the woman across the room. When she reached the bed,

she pulled the sheet back and helped Anne sit down.

"I was up half the night, throwing up," she said. "Of course I have a bug. It's probably just one of those twenty-four-hour viruses."

There wasn't an envelope on Anne's nightstand. "You were up all night?" she asked as she helped the woman into bed. "Did you hear anyone… see anyone?"

"No, I didn't," she answered. "Let go of me. I don't want to lie down." She adjusted the pillows and slowly leaned back on one elbow.

"We were all drugged," Carrie explained. "The stuff had to have been in the food we ate."

"That's ridiculous. It was spoiled food, that's what it was. Am I going to give them an earful when I get to the spa. I could sue," she said. "And I just might. First, the inconvenience at the airport and now food poisoning. It's simply unforgivable."

Carrie didn't argue. She plodded ahead, telling about the envelopes she and Sara had received.

"The most important thing you need to know is that there are detonators on every window and door in this house. If we open

one of them, the house will blow up."

Anne was looking at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Oh, for heaven's sake. What's the matter with you, trying to scare me l

ike this?"

"I'm not trying to scare you. I'm telling you the truth. Did you find an envelope with your name on it?"

"No, I did not."

The answer was too quick, too angry. Carrie knew she was lying, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand why.

"Anne, we're all in this together. You have to tell the truth."

Indignant, she responded, "I am telling you the truth. Now get out of here and leave me alone."

"No," Carrie said. "I don't know how much time we have, and we have to find a way to get out of here without triggering the explosives."

Anne's pinched face was rapidly turning red. "I asked you to leave."

Carrie tried a different approach. "Sara and I… we need you, Anne. We have to work together to figure out what is going on."

Anne glared at her. "Why do you need me?"

"Because you're smart."

"You couldn't possibly know if I'm smart or not."

"You ran your own company, didn't you? That's what you told me."

Anne's chin came up a notch. As she smoothed the sheets around her waist, she said, "I started on a shoestring and turned my little hobby-that's what my father called my shipping company-into a forty-million-dollar operation. By next January, I'll have increased my profit margin to quadruple the amount my accountants anticipated."

Carrie didn't have time for this. To be forced to pander to the stupid woman's ego just to gain her cooperation was outrageous. Didn't Anne realize what they were all up against?

With effort, Carrie was able to control her temper. "Do you think you could join Sara and me downstairs in the living room to talk about our situation? We could sure use your… advice on how to proceed."

Anne tilted her head to the side and stared at Carrie for a long minute without saying a word. Then she shook her head. "You're really serious about this story of yours, aren't you? You believe-"

"It's true," she snapped.

Anne nodded. "What is your name? I've forgotten."

"Carolyn," she answered, trying not to shout at the obtuse woman. "You may call me Carrie if you like."

"All right, Carrie. I'll join you and Sara downstairs."

"If you don't feel strong enough, Sara and I could come in here-"

"What makes you think I'm not strong enough?" She sounded angry again.

"I heard you in the bathroom. You were throwing up."

"You said the food was poisoned."

"Yes."

"That's why I was throwing up. I'm not sick."

Who gives a damn if you're sick or not, she longed to ask. She took a deep breath, nodded, and said, "All right. Come downstairs."

"I still don't see what all the fuss is about."

Carrie completely lost it then. "Fuss?" she roared. "We're sitting inside a time bomb. Did you just not listen to a word I've been saying?"

"Yes, I listened. But isn't the answer right in front of you? Simply pick up the phone and call Utopia. Have them send someone

to disarm the thing."

The phone. My God, why hadn't she thought to try calling for help? Carrie ran around to the other side of the bed and picked up the phone. Her excitement and hope were short-lived. The line was dead.