“That jar! I—uh—I saw it in Miss Brown’s room.”
“Did you now? Well, it ain’t there no more. Didn’t get me a chance to go back that night to get it. Woulda been too noisy with that room sealed up like it is. But I finally got it. Of course I shoulda figured a snoop like you, with all the time in the world, would beat me in there.”
“I am not a snoop,” I said. If I was going to die, I at least wanted to set the record straight.
“And I suppose you figured out it was me who broke into the old bag’s trunk?”
“Not soon enough, I’m afraid.”
“Of course there weren’t nothing in there to worry about. What a waste of time and energy. No papers or nothing mentioning me or the Congressman. Tweren’t nothing at all in there, as you know.”
“Except for a sunflower seed. You should be ashamed of yourself for trying to pin everything on a nice young kid like Joel.”
Billy Dee shrugged. “Somebody’s gotta take the rap, and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me. But how did you know it wasn’t Teitlebaum who opened the trunk?”
“You left your calling card at the scene of the crime. Tobacco kills, you know.”
“So do knives,” said Billy Dee softly. It took only a glance at the knife to drive the point home.
I tried to think of a stalling device. “I could fix you a cup of coffee, if you want. And a bacon and tomato sandwich. It won’t take any time at all.”
Billy Dee pulled a vial of pale emerald-colored liquid out of his shirt pocket.
“Speaking of time, Miss Yoder. Just a few drops of this stuff on the tongue, and you’re a goner. Of course, Miss Brown didn’t open her mouth voluntarily, but it weren’t really no harder than giving a cat or dog a pill. You ever done that, Miss Yoder? Given an animal a pill?”
“Some cats scratch pretty bad,” I said. “They also make a lot of noise when they die. Why don’t you just take off, Billy Dee? You got what you came for. Why don’t you just cut the phone cords, let all the air out of our tires, and take off? It’s six miles into town, and you could be halfway to Maryland before I got that far.”
In response, Billy Dee began scraping at the stubble on his cheeks with the knife. The blade was obviously razor sharp; little bits of whisker fell like pepper from a mill.
I could think of nothing further to say.
“Well, now, Miss Yoder,” said Billy Dee, filling in the silence, “we’ve done far too much talking tonight. It’s time for a little action, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I struggled to say.
“Sure, you do. You’re a fine-looking woman. A whole lot prettier than that Miss Brown. It’s time you and me had a little fun before we have to say good-bye.”
I knew that if I didn’t sit down then, I would probably faint. I tried to speak, but what come out wasn’t words.
“What was that?”
“Please, Billy, may I sit down?” I managed to say.
“Sit.” He kicked a chair under me and slowly moved the knife back up to my throat. With his free hand, he began to stroke my hair. “When you catch your breath, Miss Yoder, you and me are going for a little walk.”
I tried to catch my breath, but it seemed like I had rocks in my lungs. “Where are we going, Billy?”
His hand left my hair and slid to my face. “I seen you looking at me when we was in the barn, Miss Yoder. It was you put the idea in my head. That’s a mighty fine barn, Miss Yoder, so I figure you and me are going to put it to good use.”
“But Mose will be there,” I said. “One of the cows is ill, and he likes to stay the night when that happens.” It was of course a lie, but one of which even Mama would have been proud.
“I ain’t afraid of no old man,” said Billy. He sounded almost happy at the thought of a confrontation with Mose. “Now, it’s about time we head on out for there. I got me a lot to do yet before the night is over.”
“I can’t move with this knife at my throat,” I said. He pulled the knife back a few inches to allow me room to stand. “Now, get up.”
“Billy, please,” I begged. “You can tie me up here if you want to. Gag me, even. And then take off. I won’t cause any trouble until morning.”
I thought I heard Billy Dee grunt in anger then. I closed my eyes and waited for the slicing edge of the knife, or at the least to feel the onslaught of his fists. I would rather have died with Mama and Papa in the tunnel, but if this was how I had to go, I prayed he would do it quickly.
But no pain was forthcoming. Instead, the knife seemed to drop into my lap, and then slid harmlessly to the floor. I heard the ping of its blade as it struck the linoleum. As for Billy Dee, by the sound of it, he too had hit the floor, just seconds after the knife.