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Page 199
sisted on helping Hannah put on fresh bed linens while Mike stayed out to talk to the firemen. The room was in a separate wing from the one that had burned. It was much smaller than the one she had been in but was decorated with sturdy furniture, possibly built by Mike's loving hands, that reminded her of her own home so far in the past. Abby caught the sheet Hannah shook over the bed. "What did Mike mean that I should take the room next to the one he's in now?"
"Till you moved here, he stayed in the master suite to punish himself," Hannah said, shaking her head as she squeezed a fluffy pillow into its case. "That's where you were sleeping."
"I did not mean to displace him," Abby said sadly, then realized, "But it could have been Mike who was trapped!" She remembered with a start how strong had been her sense of crawly uneasiness earlier that day. Her special sense had been warning her of the danger.
Mike soon joined them. He was scowling, his arms crossed. "They think it was arson," he said curtly. "The fire apparently was started in the closet in a pile of clothes where it could smolder for a while."
Abby's teeth caught at her trembling lower lip. She was not surprised, but the idea of someone wanting to hurt Mike that way terrified her as much as the missing elevator.
"Was it someone at the party?" she asked.
"Philip, of course," Hannah said disgustedly.
Mike shrugged. "Probably. But it's possible somebody slipped in to steal something while the

 
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