As Cookie and I returned to the lobby, Roy asked, “What about the guns? Who will be armed?”

Everyone looked at Wyatt. He and Bram exchanged glances. “We’ll leave the pistol here,” Bram finally said. “Wyatt will take the rifle.”

“In that case”—Peter stood—“my wife and I will go with Wyatt.” He turned to Bram. “No offense, but—”

“None taken,” Bram said.

The six of us moved to the center of the room. “I think we should use the same strategy in getting to the barn that we’re using to ride out,” Bram said. “Wyatt, Peter, and Stacy will go out the back of the lodge. Liam, Darby, and I will run out the front.” He didn’t have to say that the killer couldn’t be two places at once. Unless there were two . . .

“Good idea,” Wyatt said. “Darby and Liam.” He looked at both of us. “You two can help me saddle and bridle the horses.”

“I’ll start with the rifle and keep watch while you do that,” Bram said. “Peter, you can keep watch at the other side of the barn.”

I looked from face to face. Stacy was pale and had her arms tightly crossed. A vein throbbed in her husband’s forehead. Liam kept rubbing his mouth. Bram’s jaw was determinedly tight, while Wyatt’s hands were clenched into fists.

Cookie had disappeared into the hall. She now reappeared with handheld GPS units, bottled water, and granola bars. “You’ll need these.” After she handed everything out, she said, “What about setting up a diversion?”

“What kind of diversion?” I asked her.

“I can go to the kitchen door and make some noise. That could draw the killer to that end of the building.”

“That’s a good idea, but be careful.” Roy had joined us. “Where do you want me?”

“We’ll need someone at each door to block it once we’re outside,” Bram said. Roy directed the Polish women into place. “Ready?”

As I moved toward the front door, Bram put a hand on my arm. “Darby, can you run?”

I stiffened.

He let go. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Yes, Bram, I can run.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Wyatt said, “Come on, folks, the time’s getting away from us.”

Grace took her place by the chair blocking the front door. Cookie went into the kitchen. Wyatt, Stacy, and Peter, along with Roy, moved to the back door.

My mouth dried and stomach tightened. Stuffing the water bottle, granola bar, and GPS into my jacket, I shook out my hands to try to loosen up. It’s not far. Just run to the barn. Just run—

A cacophony of banging came from the direction of the kitchen.

“Go!” Grace yanked away the chair and opened the door.

For a moment, I couldn’t move.

“Go! Go! Run!” Bram yelled.