Page 114 of If We Never Met

Thinking about Mandy reminded him of the text she'd sent to Mark:It's not over. You are going to feel my pain unless you pay up.

Was it just another threat, like the one she'd left on the wall of the inn?But it had sounded a little different—you're going to feel my pain.What would make Mark feel that pain?

A bad idea suddenly came to mind.

Mandy's sister, Gretchen, had died in a fire. Her pain had come from that loss. The loss of someone she loved during a fire.

As he stared at the grand inn, he wondered if Mandy would try to set a fire there. But she'd already had that chance when she'd been in Mark's room. That would have been the perfect time to do it.Why would she do it now?Plus, she might have figured that Mark wouldn't stay at the inn after she trashed it.

His stomach began to twist and churn as he remembered that Mandy had been to Ruth's house, too. She knew Mark and Ruth were seeing each other.Would her next target be Ruth? Or Ruth's house?

He quickly reversed out of the parking lot and drove across town, his breath coming faster with each passing minute. He tried calling Keira on the way. But she didn't pick up. He left a message telling her it was urgent that she call him back. Then he swore as the light in front of him turned red. He told himself to calm down. He could be following a wild idea that had no basis in fact, but he had a bad feeling, and he couldn't shake it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Keira heard a small crash,like someone had dropped something downstairs. She looked from the computer on her bedroom desk to the nearby clock. It was eight fifty. Fireworks would start around nine.Why would her mom come home before the fireworks?

She got up and walked to her door. She could hear someone moving around downstairs, but no voices. That seemed odd.Had her mom had a fight with Mark?

That didn't make sense. Her mom was solidly in Mark's corner even after they'd learned his secret. Her gut tightened as an odor wafted through the air. It smelled like gas. It reminded her of a terrible night only a few months after her mom's accident when her mother had turned on the gas stove to heat some water and then forgotten about it. The pan had been on fire when she'd woken up to the smell and ran into the kitchen to put out the fire. But that had been in the days when her mom's brain wasn't functioning right. She didn't have those problems anymore.

But the smell got stronger as she left her room and walked down the stairs. She could hear someone in the kitchen. She moved down the hall and threw open the kitchen door. "Mom?"

She froze in shock as she saw a red-haired woman pouring gasoline on the floor.

The woman dropped the can and lifted the fire starter in her hand.

"Don't do it," she cried, suddenly realizing she was standing on a gas-slicked floor and the liquid had formed pools around the room.

"It's too late," the woman said.

"It's not, Mandy. You don't have to do this. You can walk away."

"How do you know my name?"

"I know all about you and your sister, the fire, the blackmail. The police know, too. It's over, Mandy."

"I didn't think anyone was here," she said, her dark eyes cold and bleak. "But maybe you're supposed to be here, just like my sister was supposed to be at that house. Mark probably doesn't care about you, though. He just wants your mother. She should be here. But you're the next best thing. Her pain will be his pain."

"No! Mark's actions have nothing to do with me or my mother."

"He likes your mom. I saw them kiss. He's moved on. He found happiness again, but I never will. He took my sister from me."

"Wasn't it his wife who did that?"

"He knew about it."

"He said his wife was mentally ill."

"That doesn't excuse her. She killed my sister, but she never paid for it. And Mark kept her secret." The woman backed toward the kitchen door leading out to the patio.

The glass was broken. That must have been how she got in.

As Mandy lifted the fire starter, Keira bolted back through the door leading into the hall. She needed to get as far away from the kitchen as she could, but she slipped in the gasoline that had spread down the hall. As she hit the wall by the stairs, an explosion ripped through the house, and a tremendous wave of intense heat sent her flying through the air. She landed hard, with heavy, dusty debris raining down on her. She tried to move, but she was pinned to the ground by something very heavy. Terror ran through her as flames leapt down the hall. She only had a minute before they would reach her, before they would hit more fuel.

Coughing from the extreme smoke and heat, she tried to squirm free. She kicked out at whatever was holding her, but nothing was moving. She wanted to scream and cry, but that would be giving up, and she couldn't do that. She had to keep fighting.

And then she felt air hit her face. There was so much smoke and fire she didn't know if the windows had burst or if the front door had opened, but she gasped, hoping for some clean air to breathe. It might be the last breath she would get to take.

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