Gage finished the rest of his lecture, and the lights came up as the question-and-answer period began—a good time to leave, Abby figured. Staying in the back, she made her way through the crowd to an exit door that led directly outside, pushed through, and stepped into the darkness.

The moment the door swung closed behind her, shutting out the light from inside, she realized the error she had made. She turned back and tried the door, wasn’t surprised to find it locked. It wasn’t that far to the car, she told herself. She just needed to reach the side of the building where it was brightly lit and cross to the parking lot.

Her brown leather ankle boots clicked on the asphalt as she made her way down the alley at the back of the building. She hadn’t noticed anyone around when she’d stepped outside, but now she heard the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by footfalls echoing behind her.

A quick look over her shoulder and she spotted the shadowy figure of a man in an overcoat striding along in her wake. Abby quickened her pace. He was tall and spare, his overcoat flapping around his legs as his long strides carried him toward her.

A thought stirred that there was something familiar about him. Was it possible this was the same man who had broken into her house? She snatched another quick look. Same height, same lean, wide-shouldered build. Her pulse quickened along with her footsteps.

Surely there was no way he could know where she would be tonight. Not unless . . . Not unless he knew where she was staying and had followed her to the museum. Her heart rate accelerated even more.

Another quick glance confirmed her fear as she saw him closing the distance between them. Abby started running, her lungs pumping as she raced toward the light coming from around the side of the building and the museum parking lot. Behind her, pounding footsteps matched her own, the man drawing even closer.

Abby burst around the corner and kept running. People were beginning to stream out of the building through the entrance that led to the lecture hall. She quickly altered her course to catch up with them and blend into the exiting throng.

The lecture-goers spread out as they reached the parking lot, Abby among them. She spotted her red Fiat convertible and felt a rush of gratitude that the March weather was still too chilly to put the top down.

She glanced back in search of the man who was following her. If he was there, he was just another figure in the crowd. Abby didn’t slow down.