He detects some nods in the shadows.

‘We’ll stay here, in the lobby. If anybody has to go to the bathroom, we’ll go together, in groups,’ David instructs. ‘And then, at daybreak, we’ll go. Maybe the road crews will be out by then. We’ll get help. But we have to stick together. Nothing can happen to anyone if we all stick together, understand?’

Everyone stares back at him. Now, one by one, they nod. Even Riley, who licks her lips nervously.

‘It’s still cold in here,’ David continues. ‘We need to stay warm. We have to keep the fire going.’ He stops to think for a minute. ‘We should get some more blankets from the rooms.’

‘I’m not going back upstairs,’ Gwen says with feeling.

David is distracted for a moment by how anxious she looks. But they’re all frightened. Other than keeping them warm and fed and all together in one place, he has no idea how to keep them alive.

‘Our phones must be very low on battery; mine’s out,’ David says. There are nods all around.

‘Mine’s still working, for now,’ Matthew says. ‘But it won’t last much longer.’

David turns to Ian and Bradley. ‘Why don’t we go upstairs now and grab some blankets.’

Bradley and Ian nod, and the three of them head for the central staircase, into the dark, Bradley holding up the oil lamp to light their way, leaving the others by the light of the fire.

Gwen stares into the dark after them. She’s reminded somehow of the story of Hansel and Gretel, lost in the dark forest, trying to make their way home, where they aren’t even wanted. The fairy tale had terrified her as a child, and now she feels as if she’s inside the story, in the dark forest, abandoned by those who love her. She shivers. She’s letting her imagination run away with her.

Riley watches and waits, her heart beating fast, like an overrevved engine that might burn itself out. She listens to every little sound – the wind against the windows, the crackling of the fire, the startling sound of the logs shifting suddenly in the fireplace. But she’s listening for something else, something unexpected. She’s listening for something that shouldn’t be there.

She pulls the blanket more tightly around her body. She tells herself that they have to make it to the morning, then they can try to get the hell out of here. She tries to think. Maybe there’s a connection here that they don’t know about, as David suggested. If anyone here knew Dana or Candice previously, they aren’t admitting it. It’s possible that Matthew’s right, and James and Bradley are hiding something. She had seen James and Bradley whispering, too. Or Matthew might simply be trying to shift attention away from himself.

She knows she’s become a little fixated on David Paley. Yet as much as she thinks he might have murdered his own wife, she’s not particularly afraid of him now.

But she wishes Gwen would stay the hell away from him.

Saturday, 9:05 PM

They settle into their sofas and chairs around the fireplace. They’ve eaten a meal hastily thrown together by James and Bradley, with David keeping them company in the kitchen. James has brewed another big pot of coffee.

No one wants to sleep tonight. No one wants to even close their eyes. They sit together in a charged silence. No one is talking about the elephant in the room.

Gwen squirms in an attempt to find a more comfortable position on the sofa. She doesn’t know who or where the killer is. She can’t bear to think about it any more. Her neck is stiff with tension. She just wants to survive. They will try to make their way out of here first thing in the morning. She’s holding on to that.

They sit wrapped in blankets with their fingers around their mugs of coffee for warmth. There’s a bottle of Kahlua taken from the bar trolley sitting on the coffee table. They take turns topping up their coffees with it.

Maybe it’s not such a good idea to get drunk, Gwen thinks, but the Kahlua tastes good, and it’s soothing. She notices gratefully that David isn’t putting anything in his coffee. He’s going to keep his wits about him. Their protector. She has more faith in him than in Matthew, with his gun, which seldom leaves his hand. He plays with it restlessly. She wishes he would put it down. She wishes David would tell him to put it down, or take it away from him. It’s making her nervous.

The rest of them are now trying to talk about other things – other hotels they’ve stayed at, in other countries – anything to keep their minds off the long dark night stretching out in front of them. She finds her eyes drifting more and more to David as the night wears on. She keeps thinking about the two of them together the night before. Occasionally – in fact, more and more frequently – he glances her way.

He looks dark and solid by the meagre light of the fire and the oil lamp. He’s unshaven, but he wears it well, and a lock of his hair falls forward over his forehead in a way that she finds appealing. She wants to brush it back. She wishes that the two of them were sitting close together, sharing a sofa, but she’s sharing a sofa with Riley.

She wonders what David would think of her, if he knew the truth about her. She’s not going to tell him. Not yet. There’s only one person who knows the truth about her, about what she did – and she’s sitting right beside her. But Riley isn’t going to say anything.

Chapter Twenty-two

RILEY’S BEEN SLIPPING Kahlua into her coffee at a faster rate than the rest of them. They already think she’s got a problem with alcohol. Maybe she does. But that pales in comparison to the problems they’ve all got tonight. She just wants to take the edge off.

She notices the way Gwen and David are looking at each other, and decides she’s not having it. She can be a bit mean when she’s had a couple of drinks.

‘So,’ she says, venturing into a conversational lull, ‘maybe we should get to know each other a little better.’ She’s looking right at David. She’s pretty sure, from the way he was last night at the dinner table, that he knows she’s on to him. She knows who he is.

She can feel Gwen tightening up beside her. Bristling.

But then Lauren says, ‘Sure, why not?’ She stares at Riley across the coffee table, challenge in her eyes. ‘Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself, Riley? Like, what exactly is bothering you so much?’

Riley looks back at her, surprised and thrown off course. She doesn’t like Lauren. She’s seen her rolling her eyes. And now she’s giving her a hard time. How dare she?

Riley hesitates, angry at Lauren. Then she says, ‘You don’t want to know.’ There’s a warning in her voice.

‘Sure I do,’ Lauren says.

Pushy bitch, Riley thinks. She pauses and then says, her voice icy, ‘I’ve seen things that would make your guts turn inside out. So don’t you dare judge me.’

‘I’m not judging you,’ Lauren says. ‘I just want to understand you. I remember when we first got here thinking that maybe you were … disturbed in some way. Because you seemed freaked out before any of this started happening.’ Lauren leans forward in the dark. ‘So do you know something about what’s going on? Because I don’t trust you.’

Riley freezes in her seat, speechless. She can’t believe what she’s being accused of.

‘What are you saying?’ Gwen protests from beside her, clearly indignant. ‘She doesn’t have anything to do with this!’

‘Really? She may not be the one killing people, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she knows something! Look at her!’

Now everyone is staring at Riley. She can feel herself becoming agitated. She tries to stay in control.

‘She has a point,’ Matthew says, glaring at her. ‘You’ve been really nervous since we all got here. Everybody can see it. I thought there was something wrong with you. So did – so did Dana.’

‘Maybe we should all take a step back,’ Ian says calmly.

‘I don’t know anything about what’s happening here!’ Riley protests.