KING’S BAY METROPOLITAN INN

The hotel restaurant has been rearranged to accommodate the wedding reception. The tables have been spread out to create space for a dance floor, which is currently the focus of all in attendance. As a duet between Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat plays over the sound system, Courtney Chase and Jason Fisher share their first dance as a married couple.

“Is it weird to think of yourself as Mrs. Fisher?” Jason asks as they sway together.

“Why am I Mrs. Fisher and you’re not Mr. Chase?” Courtney teases.

The most mature reaction Jason can come up with is to stick out his tongue at her. With his hands resting on her hips, he is incredibly aware of all the eyes upon them. “Are we not supposed to be talking?” he whispers.

“I think we can do whatever we want. We’re paying for all these people to get drunk!”

Unable to grasp how they actually made it to this point, or that he gets to spend the rest of his life with Courtney, Jason leans in and kisses her quickly on the lips. It would be a much more overt sign of the feelings threatening to burst from his body right now, but he is pretty sure all those people are still watching them.

“Lucky I’m in love with my best friend...”

As they continue to dance, their four parents sit at a table with Courtney and Jason’s longtime figure skating coach. Sandy James sips on a glass of Chardonnay, marveling at the newlyweds as they dance.

“I remember when the first lesson I gave them together,” Sandy says, “and how I told them they had to hold hands, and Courtney was too embarrassed to do it!” “But of course Jason didn’t mind,” Bill says. Helen and Don exchange a surprised look. “I never knew that,” the bride’s mother says. “Courtney came home from that first lesson so excited.” Sandy speaks over the rim of her wine glass. “Because I taught them how to do a lift to break the ice--so to speak--and once Courtney got a taste of that, she was hooked.”

“And now they’re married,” Paula says. “When they were teenagers, I thought there was a chance... But for so many years there, it seemed like they might never even be friends again.”

“Everyone has to take their own road to get to their destination.” Don pauses to watch his daughter and new son-in-law dancing. “Maybe they wouldn’t have appreciated it as much if there weren’t some struggle.”

The others nod in agreement as a hotel employee appears beside their table.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he tells them, “but I have a phone call at the main desk for Sandy James.”

“That’s me.” Sandy stands, casting a surprised look to her tablemates. “Guess I’ll be right back.” She follows the waiter out of the restaurant and out to the lobby. He slides behind the desk and hands her the phone.

“Hello?” Sandy asks. “This is Sandy.” But there is no answer. “Hello?” She hands the receiver back to him. “That’s so strange. They didn’t say who it was?”

“I’m afraid not,” the clerk says. “If they call back, I can ask who it is, if you’d like.”

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

The clerk moves to help another guest, and Sandy is about to turn to rejoin the reception--when she feels something cold and hard pressing into her back.

“Don’t say a word,” a woman’s voice orders her. It is not a whisper, but it is close.

Sandy swivels her head, trying not to make this any worse than it has to be. “Sabrina?”

“Shut up. And come with me.” She jabs the gun harder into Sandy’s spine to emphasize her request.

Trying to control her breathing and keep her body from going limp with fear, Sandy asks, “What are you doing?” She looks at the two guards posted at the entrance to the restaurant. The police put them there to keep Sabrina, or anyone working for her, out of the reception. Now Sandy is a lobby away and helpless. She tries to signal to the guards with her eyes, but Sabrina quickly whips her around.

“The question is, what are you doing? And the answer is, helping me. Now come on.”

With no choice, Sandy follows Sabrina’s direction and, guided by the concealed gun, walks to the stairwell.

One . Two . Three . Four . Five . Six . Seven