She slipped into a room with a desk. Probably an office or library. The space looked inviting enough, with a big leather desk chair and shelves lined with books and personal photos.

She picked up one of Baines and Kennedy sitting by a pool. Kennedy did look like him, but now Jessa knew that was due to him being her uncle. She did not in any way envy Gabby dealing with that messed-up family situation.

Jessa’s head thumped, and the adrenaline shooting through her had her a little out of breath. She wanted this over, and fast. They didn’t know who they could trust, but Jessa knew who they couldn’t rely on—Retta. And Darren could be anywhere, so Gabby needed to stop rattling around this gigantic house and show her face.

The creak behind her filled her with relief. Being excited to see Gabby was a first, but Jessa welcomed the sensation. “It’s about time. I thought . . .”

A man stood there. A familiar one. Taylor or Tom. Something like that. They’d met outside of Retta and Earl’s house that night with the reporter. His being here didn’t make sense. No one knew she was here. She didn’t have her phone. She’d changed bags. She didn’t say or type the address anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” But she feared she knew the answer. She’d said too much, dug around in the wrong places.

She saw the knife. He held it low, right against his leg, but the light bounced off the blade.

Think! Her mind raced with possible solutions. There appeared to be one door, and it was behind him. Window. Closet. Where was that cell phone from Faith?

“Is Retta with you, or is she coming later?” she asked in the calmest voice she could muster.

The question had him frowning. “What?”

His name came to her. If she could keep up the ruse while she figured out an exit plan . . . “Retta told me to meet her here. I assumed you drove her. Trent, right?”

“How do you—”

She turned and reached for the nearest object. Hardcover books. She grabbed them double-fisted. Lobbed one then another at him. Slammed the first into his head. Aimed for the knife but hit his stomach with the second. She screamed as she threw. Dodged around the desk, racing as fast as she could for the door.

She touched the knob right as he grabbed the back of her shirt.

“Not today!” She kept moving, dragging him with her. “Gabby!”

She slipped on the marble but managed to stay on her feet. Only a few steps to the front door and freedom, but his hand clamped down on her shoulder. A stinging pain had her stopping.