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foyer still seemed dim somehow, heavy with darkness and shadows. Meredith had never noticed before how the beams from the chandelier were diamond-shaped, pointed like little knives. There were small spaces between them, spaces that seemed darker, and there were so many places along the edge of the room they didn’t reach, leaving them in shadow.
    She didn’t let herself hesitate, plunging down the stairs without missing a step. She kept her spine straight and her stride even, tamping down on the butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t let anyone know she was the slightest bit on edge. They moved in silence down the grand staircase, the rugs silencing the sound of their steps, emphasizing the eeriness of their progression. Only when her feet hit the bottom and they veered off the rugs onto the marble floor did they make a sound, echoing into the high ceilings above.
    The living room was just off the main hall. Meredith reached for the doors, ignoring the nervous tremor that quaked through her, and pushed them open. Flipping the switch inside the door, she flooded the room with light. A quick glance around the room revealed that everything appeared as it should.
    She stepped aside to let them enter. “Here we are.”
    The living room was the former front parlor, a big, comfortable space made for people to gather together and socialize. When she and Adam had taken over Sutton Hall, one of her first missions had been to renovate this room, figuring it would be the place most of their guests would want to come together to relax and hang out. The sofas and tables were set in a variety of arrangements, some to accommodate big groups, some for private conversations. It was a room they were all familiar with, having gathered there after dinner, where she and Ellen had served them drinks. It was one reason she’d suggested the room, figuring they’d be more comfortable here than anywhere else, since it wasn’t a strange place.
    But as the group began to filter in Meredith didn’t miss the way they glanced around the space uneasily, as though expecting someone to jump out at them at any moment. No one took a seat, all of them moving to the center and standing there restlessly.
    Greg immediately zeroed in on the bar on one wall and headed straight for it.
    “Don’t you think you had enough at dinner?” Scott asked.
    “Clearly not, because I am way too sober for this,” Greg called back over his shoulder. “Anyone else want anything?”
    “What the hell,” Alex muttered. “I can’t think of a better time for a drink. Scotch neat.”
    “Coming right up,” Greg said.
    Jessica wrapped her arms around herself. “Where’s the phone?”
    “The closest one is in the study,” Meredith said. “I’ll be right back.”
    “I’ll come with you,” Tom said. He’d stopped in the entryway beside her. She shot him a look in surprise. He stared back, his expression serious. “You probably shouldn’t be wandering around alone. At least not until we have a better idea what we’re dealing with.”
    Her first instinct was to glance at the others. At the last second she managed to hold the impulse in check.
    Wasn’t the killer someone in this room? It was what Meredith had assumed. Despite what Jessica had said, the killer was most likely someone who’d come here with Haley, someone who knew her.
    That might be a dangerous assumption to make, but now that he’d raised the prospect, the idea of walking through the house alone didn’t hold much appeal.
    Meredith nodded. “All right. Let’s make that call.”
    * * *
    T HE STUDY WAS on the ground floor in the front tower of the west wing. Adam had converted it into his office when they’d taken over Sutton Hall. Meredith quickly made her way there, keeping an eye out around her at all times, fully aware of Tom following close behind.
    As she stepped into the room, her gaze immediately went to the phone sitting on the desk at the other side. Mouthing a silent prayer, she