“It’s . . .” I began.
“Denny, what’s this?” Billie said as she reached for the ornament on the table.
“It’s just another ornament for someone’s tree,” Denny said, but when his eyes landed on mine this time, I was sure he was telling me not to tell Billie about the other ornaments he’d made for me. It was such a simple glance, but I suddenly knew so much more. I put the pieces together in my head, or at least what I thought were the pieces.
Denny had been making the ornaments to lead me to Reggie’s killer. Billie and Reggie had had the affair. That act of infidelity led to their father’s stress-induced death, and Brenton leaving his family, Reggie and Evelyn divorcing, and in some way to Brenton and Stephanie’s divorce, too, but that must have been some sort of aftershock. And, finally, that affair had somehow, some way, led to Billie killing Reggie. I could have been completely wrong, but I suspected I was close to the facts, just not the exact reasons behind them. Now wasn’t the time to ask clarifying questions.
“It looks like me,” Billie said. “I don’t understand.”
“Aw, Old Girl, I thought it would be a nice surprise.” Denny shrugged.
Old Girl. It was a horrible nickname, but one that didn’t seem to bother Billie. Somehow it must have become a term of endearment. And, her e-mail address.
And, Old Girl, Billie, was upset. She looked at Denny and then at me. She knew the reasons behind everything, of course, but she didn’t know what I suspected and she didn’t have all the facts. She didn’t know about the ornaments I’d secretly received. I smiled weakly. But, unfortunately, she wasn’t stupid.
“That day we saw you with the metallic tree ornament—where’d that come from?” Billie said to me.
“A friend,” I said. Okay, so maybe she knew a little about the ornaments.
Billie’s eyebrows came together and she blinked. She knew something was up, but she still didn’t have all the pieces. “Denny?”
“Let’s get Becca into the house, sis. Let’s get her cleaned up before she bleeds all over the place,” Denny said as his grip tightened on my arm and he pulled me off the stool.
“No. Wait.” Billie moved to the other side of the table as if to form a barricade. She wouldn’t have been able to manage blocking both of us if Denny hadn’t left the ax right where she could grab it.
“Stop,” she said when she had the ax in hand.
“Billie, come on, you’re overacting to something,” Denny said. “What’s the problem, Old Girl?”
But she didn’t buy into his act.
“No, something’s going on and I want to know what it is,” she said.
Denny sighed. He knew his sister, and I could tell he knew that stalling wasn’t going to work much longer. He pulled me around the table, but Billie and the ax stopped us.
In the next instant, Denny threw me around his sister and toward the old tractor. “Run, Becca!” he said.
I stumbled but regained my footing and managed a quick glance back at the brother and sister before I hurried through the rest of the barn. Billie had the ax raised, but it looked like Denny might be able to fend her off. No matter what happened, I knew I needed to get out of there and get some help.
It seemed to take forever to step over and around all the junk but I finally made it outside—and right into a rare South Carolina blinding snowstorm.
I was so surprised that I froze in place for a second. I knew in which direction the house and other barn were located, but I could only see the outline of the house. The barn was hidden by a whiteout.
“Help!” I yelled.
I needed to keep moving, but the new layer of snow not only made everything blindingly white, it made for slick footing.
If I could just get to my truck, I could at least lock myself inside it. But I realized that wasn’t the best plan when it came to getting away from an angry woman with an ax. And, I was leaving a bright-red trail of blood.
“Help!” I said again, but it felt like I’d been put into a vacuum. It seemed like my voice didn’t travel much farther than my own nose.
I wrapped my hand more tightly with the bottom of my jacket and hoped the bloody trail wouldn’t continue to form as I made a quick decision and ran into the space between the barn and the house and toward the trees.
I slipped and slid, but somehow I moved forward. When I came upon a tree, I hurried around it, hopefully hiding myself from the ax-wielding elf. If I kept going deeper into the copse, I’d hopefully find someone who was cutting down their tree and would have an ax I could borrow.
There’d been other vehicles out front. There were people here somewhere.