Tears burned my eyes as bile rose in my throat, and the carousel continued to spin and the music continued to play. This had to be some sort of bizarre nightmare, I told myself. This is too surreal to actually be happening. I blinked and tried to will myself awake, but when I opened my eyes, Darious's body was a gruesome reminder that this moment was all too real.

I had to get away. I leaped free of the carousel and landed painfully on my knees. I rushed to the door with only one thing on my mind, getting away from the awful thing behind me.

I was terrified. What if the murderer was in here with me? Frightened half to death, I pushed on the door. It didn't move. I pushed, I pulled, I jiggled the latch, I even kicked it, but nothing budged. I was locked in. The windows were boarded up. There was no way out.

Darious's workshop. Maybe there was a way out through it. With my back to the barn wall, I cautiously worked my way toward that part of the barn. The carousel music was unbearably loud. The monster who'd cut Darious's throat could be right behind me, and I'd never hear it.

At last, I came to the workshop door. A frightened glance around convinced me that no one was close, and I took a deep breath and pulled on the door. It, too, was locked. I dropped to the floor, drew my knees to my chest, and covered my face with my arms. I wanted to cry but didn't dare. The monster lurking in the dark might hear me.

This was the moment when the cavalry should crest the hill or a knight in shining armor should ride in on a white horse to rescue me. But I knew I'd seen too many movies, read too many books, and there was no one coming to save me. No one even knew where I was. My life was in my hands and my hands only.

I had to find a way out. There must be another entrance. I tried to remember what the barn looked like from outside. Of course! There were huge double doors at one end, large enough to drive a tractor through. With any luck, they wouldn't be locked. Staying close to the wall, I inched my way across the barn until I reached the opposite end of the building. My fingers touched a metal hinge and I knew I'd reached the doors. Ignoring the danger that hid in the darkness, I turned around, found the latch, released it, and shoved. It, too, was locked. I collapsed on the floor, too terrified even to cry.

Windows. There were windows. All boarded up, but maybe I could pry some boards loose. Not even thinking about the danger, I ran across the barn to where I knew there was a window. Grabbing hold of a plank, I tugged on it with all my might, but it was firmly fixed to the window frame. If I had a crowbar or some kind of tool, I might be able to pry it off, but everything was locked away in Darious's workshop.

I closed my eyes and tried to envision the barn from the outside, again. There were shuttered windows on the levels above this floor. If I could find the stairs, perhaps I could break through the shutters. By now, my eyes were thoroughly accustomed to the dim barn interior lit by the flashing lights of the carousel. And I saw no one. I remembered a ladder, next to the workshop door, which led to a dark hole in the ceiling. Taking a chance, I ran across the barn. And still, the monster didn't come.

The ladder looked to be about one hundred feet high, and the opening at the top of it was as black as a moonless night. I clenched my teeth, took a deep breath, and started to climb. It took forever, and I had nearly reached the hole when I heard a sound coming from above. A faint, rustling noise, as if someone who was waiting there for me had changed position.

It took me two seconds to slide back down the ladder. I was attempting to pull the ladder out of the hole when I heard Meow. I looked toward the sound and saw two glowing cat's eyes looking back at me.

Not a monster. Just a cat. Now I realized the murderer must have slipped out and locked the door behind him as I checked Darious for signs of life. I was still trapped inside, but I was alone, and I was going to get out if I had to tear the barn apart board by board.

Rather than do that, I moved the ladder back to the opening, and when it was firmly in place, gritted my teeth and climbed it. The cat was sitting on a cardboard box watching me when I pulled myself onto the floor. “Hi, kitty,” I said, cheerfully. “Sorry to bother you.”

With a twitch of its tail, it let me know it didn't mind. The shuttered windows at this level were firmly closed, but I recalled seeing a double set of doors right under the peaked roof of the barn. There would have been no need to lock something that high up. I found a rickety flight of stairs with no railing, and climbed it on my hands and knees.

My luck had returned. When I pushed on one of the doors, it swung open so easily, I had to grab the door-jamb to keep from tumbling out. My head reeled as I looked down. Even a person who didn't have acrophobia would get dizzy up here, and I'd had a fear of heights ever since I could remember.

I tried to concentrate on looking at the horizon. The barn was facing east, and the moon was already over the mountaintops. From my vantage point I saw the farmhouse, and I screamed for help as loudly as I could. Nothing happened so I took a deep breath and yelled the word every farmer fears, “Fire!”

The farmhouse door burst open, and two figures came running out.

“Help!” I cried. “Please help me.”

The couple ran down the hill to the barn and looked up at me in wonderment.

“I'm locked in,” I called. “Do you have a key?”

“No key,” the man called back.

“Then please call the police. And tell them there's a dead man in here.”

He turned his back to me and sprinted up the hill. Right past his house. I wondered why, until I remembered the Amish don't have phones. I hoped he didn't have far to go.

He returned in about ten minutes. “They're coming,” he yelled. “Yo u ’uns okay in there?”

“I'm all right. Thanks.”

By the time I'd maneuvered down the scary stairs and the even more scary ladder, I heard a siren. Trying not to look at Darious, I waited, and after a short while someone began to attack the barn door. The wood splintered as an ax broke through, and I saw a face peer through the opening. It might not have been the cavalry, and it certainly wasn't a knight in shining armor, but right then Luscious Miller looked better than anyone I could have imagined coming to rescue me.

He enlarged the hole he'd made and stepped through. “Wow,” was all he said as he gazed in astonishment at the whirling carousel. A smile lit his face, and I knew he was experiencing the childlike wonder of it all. But the smile faded when he saw the body in the chariot.

“How do you stop it?” he asked.

“There's a switch inside the workroom, but it's locked.”

Luscious picked up his ax and let me lead him to the workshop door. After a few minutes of being hacked, the door disintegrated. “Come on,” he said. “Show me how to turn it off.”

I pointed to the lever halfway up the wall. When he pulled down on it, the music stopped. I'd nearly forgotten how blissful silence could be, after listening to “In the Good Old Summertime” for more than an hour. I'd probably hear it in my dreams for years to come.

While I waited, Luscious examined Darious's body. I looked around for something to sit on and found several piles of cardboard boxes in one corner that looked fairly strong. I was resting on top of one of the piles when Luscious returned, looking shaken and pale. “I gotta call the coroner.”

He pulled out his cell phone and made the call. Then he asked me to tell him why I was in an Amish barn on the edge of town with a dead body riding a carousel.

“Have a seat,” I said, and waited until he sat on another pile of boxes. Then I told him everything that had happened from the time I arrived and discovered the body until I spotted the farmer and called for help. Luscious didn't interrupt, except to go tsst, tsst from time to time.