“Seems we had the same idea,” Dean said.

“Apparently,” Ross replied.

“We didn’t find anyone,” Kristen said. “Now what? I thought for sure that’s where she would take Lindsay.”

“Let’s separate again and continue searching.” Rachel did her best to keep her voice calm, despite the growing anxiety she felt.

Lindsay removed the last of the dollar bills-four in all-that she’d placed in her small evening bag. Before she could release the money and allow it to sail softly to the floor, the final clue to mark her trail, the madwoman at her side stopped abruptly in front of a stack of wooden crates and aimed her flashlight straight ahead.

She stuck the gun in Lindsay’s ribs. “Move behind the crates.”

Lindsay did as she was told.

Her abductor forced her forward as she shined her flashlight at an old wooden door half hidden behind the crates. When she reached around Lindsay and turned the doorknob, Lindsay considered putting up a fight. But the feel of the deadly weapon pressing painfully into her ribs made her think twice.

“Where are you taking me?” Lindsay managed to say, fear vibrating her voice.

“Somewhere no one will find you, not until after Rachel and Kristen join you.”

Lindsay hazarded a glance at the woman she had known since they were teenagers, and wondered why she had never realized how unstable she was, how unstable she had probably always been.

While her captor concentrated on opening the door and at the same time keeping her gun against Lindsay’s side, Lindsay opened her palm and dropped the last dollar bill.

Please, dear God, let Wyatt realize I’m missing. Let him be searching for me.

What was that sound? Was that music she heard? Yes, it was. She couldn’t quite make out the tune, but there was music coming from behind the door.

Nudging the gun deep into Lindsay’s side, her captor ordered, “Move it. Now!”

Lindsay stepped over the concrete threshold and entered a brightly lit, dank-smelling room. So engrossed in the sight before her, Lindsay barely heard the door close behind her.

My God!

At least a dozen Coleman lanterns, lined up on the floor in front of a row of old lockers, illuminated the cavernous room.

Lockers? The senior lockers from St. Elizabeth’s? Was that possible?

“It took quite some effort to move the lockers in here,” she told Lindsay. “But it was well worth it, don’t you think?” She urged Lindsay forward, forcing her to walk past the lockers to the opposite side of the room.

Lindsay noticed her name on one locker. Rachel’s, Kristen’s, and Martina’s on three others. Those four lockers were open and empty. The others were closed.

“Only four more to go,” she said, smiling at Lindsay. “And then it will all be complete. Just in time for the wrecking ball.”

“Why? I-I don’t understand.”

Wyatt, you are searching for me, aren’t you? You’ve called Rachel and Dean. You’ve told the police that I’m missing.

“All you need to know is that you’re going to die.”

“Why? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me? What did any of us do?”

“Keep walking until you reach the far wall, then turn around slowly.”

Continuing to move toward the wall, her back to her abductor, Lindsay pleaded, “Tell me what we did to make you hate us.”

“You and the others were such little snots, excluding me from everything, shutting me out, making me feel worthless.”

“But we didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” Keep her talking. Buy yourself all the time you can. “I’m sorry. Truly I am. If I could do anything to make it up to you, I would.”

“Did you know that I hated you the most back then? And I still do. I want you to suffer before I kill you. I want you to know just a little of the pain I’ve felt all these years. Now, turn around and look at me. I want to watch your face when I shoot you.”

Lindsay paused, then turned and stared directly at the woman who intended to kill her.

“Will you tell me why you hate me the most?” Try not to think about her threat to make you suffer. You cannot give in to your fears.

“Because Jake wanted you more than he wanted me.”

Rushing forward, insane hatred marring her facial features, Bella Marcott shoved Lindsay up against the wall, the gun almost touching Lindsay’s belly. As her shoulder hit the concrete, Lindsay caught a glimpse of the huge red heart painted on the wall behind her. A morbid reminder of a long-ago St. Valentine Day’s dance.

And the music…The song coming from the portable CD player on the floor near the lockers was a familiar tune. “Can’t Fight This Feeling” by REO Speedwagon. Once upon a time, it had been her and Jake’s song.

When her gaze connected to Bella’s, she saw malicious anger and sheer madness in her eyes. Eyes so very much like Jake’s.

Kristen and Ross crossed paths with Wyatt twice during their frantic search. The first time he’d been with Martina and Craig, but now he was alone. Alone and angry and blaming himself for Lindsay’s abduction.

“You couldn’t have gone to the ladies’ room with her,” Kristen said, doing her best to comfort him.

“No, but I should have insisted that we find you so you could go with her.”

Kristen placed her hand on Wyatt’s shoulder and rubbed reassuringly. “We’re going to find her.”

Wyatt covered his mouth as he drew in a deep breath, barely holding his emotions in check. “If we don’t find her soon…”

Bella will kill her. Kristen knew what he was thinking, what they were all thinking. It seemed unbelievable that Jake’s own sister had been responsible for his death, even if she hadn’t actually released the arrow from the crossbow and nailed him through the heart.

“Come on.” Kristen tugged on Wyatt’s arm. “Ross and I are going to search the side entrance into St. Elizabeth’s that connects to the gym. Why don’t you take a look at the back entrances? I know the police officers have already checked, but they could have overlooked something.”

Wyatt stared at her, a crazed expression on his face as if he were on the verge of unraveling, but he nodded, indicating he had understood her. Then he turned and headed for the back of the old school.

“He’s half out of his mind,” Kristen said.

“I would be, too, if you were the one missing.”

Kristen reached out and caressed her husband’s cheek. How close they’d come to losing each other, to letting their marriage and their love slip away from them.

“We’re going to find her-alive.” Kristen pointed the beam of her flashlight straight in front of her, aiming it toward the covered breezeway between the gymnasium and the school building.

Ross kept pace with her, slowing when she slowed, speeding up when she did. As they walked along the corridor between the two structures, Kristen stopped suddenly.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She shot a beam of light toward the concrete walkway where something white had caught her eye. “What’s that?” She bent over and picked up the Kleenex, then inspected it thoroughly. “Someone blotted their lipstick on this.”

“Anyone could have dropped it.”

“This is a pink lipstick. Lindsay was wearing pink.”

“Kristen, don’t-”

“She could have dropped it on purpose, as a clue.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right. But-”

“I’m calling Rachel.” Using her free hand, Kristen flipped open her cell phone.

“How does it feel knowing you’re going to die?” Bella pointed the gun directly at Lindsay’s heart.

“I’m afraid. Is that what you want to hear? I’m terrified. I don’t want to die.”

Bella smiled. “Jake didn’t have time to be scared, not until the very last minute when he realized I was going to kill him.”

“You killed Jake?” But how was that possible? Lindsay wondered. Hadn’t Rachel and Dean told her and Kris, in strictest confidence, that a man named Patrick Dewey had killed Jake?