But I didn’t even make it to the next tree before I heard Billie.
“Becca!”
How did I hear her when I could barely hear myself?
I froze in place again as huge snowflakes stung my warm face and got trapped by my eyelashes. I couldn’t run. I wouldn’t win.
But I could hide.
The pine tree next to me was huge, too huge, I thought, for any normal home. It belonged in a place like Rockefeller Center or perhaps the White House. Its lowest branches were close to the ground. I dove under and hoped for the best.
And I came upon the most wonderful surprise. It wasn’t an ax, but it was something that might help. I’d seen something similar in Reggie Stuckey’s garage and I thought I might have found a useful weapon.
I wasn’t far from the barn, so I wasn’t far from whatever outlet was needed to power the mechanism. It had a cord extending out from under the branches that was covered with snow once it was in the open, and I hoped it was plugged in. I couldn’t sit up because of the branches, so I lay on my back with my head up against the trunk. And waited, though not for long.
“Becca, I know you’re in there. The snow isn’t falling fast enough to hide your footprints. And you’re still bleeding. Come out,” Billie said.
I remained silent.
“Fine. I’ll come in then.”
Billie started chopping at the low branches with the ax, causing my headroom to shrink and bits and pieces of tree to fall down on me. I tried to remain steady and keep my eyes clear, but it was difficult not to panic.
It took her only a few more seconds to create an opening where I could see her legs, but I didn’t think she’d spotted me quite yet. I pulled my knees up and got ready.
Another three chops later, most of her was exposed.
Right before I thought she’d lean over and finally know without question that I was there, I aimed with my bloody hand, and fired.
And much to my relief and satisfaction, it worked.
Billie might have seen my footprints and blood, but the snow had completely covered the cord attached to the flocking gun that had been left under the huge tree. She had no idea I’d found a weapon. I hadn’t been sure myself, but I’d been hopeful.
As I pulled the trigger, Billie’s face quickly became covered in white. I didn’t know if the substance stuck, stung, or if it just got in her way, but she dropped the ax, threw her hands up to her eyes, and screamed.
Once she went down to her knees, I couldn’t help myself. I said with complete satisfaction, “Yeah, you’ve been flocked.” And then I scurried out from under the tree, grabbed the ax she’d dropped, and slipped and slid back to the barn.
Twenty-four
I found Denny still in the barn. As I hurried around the tractor, he was coming to. He said Billie had hit him, but fortunately had only used the side of the ax blade to knock him out. I helped him up and then we made sure Billie couldn’t do any more damage to anyone.
The snow subsided about three minutes after we tied the elf’s hands behind her back, and suddenly there were people everywhere. Ned and the other customers had been in the other barn, waiting out the quickly passing storm with hot cider and an assortment of candies and cookies. They had no idea what had gone on in and behind the other barn.
Sam’s cruiser appeared from the oak forest and sped toward me when he noticed I might be injured.
Sam handcuffed Billie and put her in the backseat of his cruiser. He deposited me in the front seat, insisting that he take me to someplace where someone could look at my hand. We’d retrieve my truck later. He might have someone make sure Billie’s eyes were okay, but he made no promises.
He called in and requested that other officers get to the Ridgeway Farm quickly because he had an injured party he was going to take care of. I insisted on getting the whole story from Denny before we left.
It was what I’d finally concluded, but bigger. Yes, Billie and Reggie had had an affair and that was the reason Evelyn quit politics and she and Reggie divorced. Brenton, the youngest Ridgeway sibling, was devastated when the stress of learning of the affair killed their father, or so he concluded. Brenton’s father’s love of his home state of South Carolina ran deep, so deep that his respect for its political leaders couldn’t be rattled. He wanted the parties involved in the affair to come forward, tell the world what they’d done, and confess, come clean like any honest citizen would do. Instead, everyone—except the youngest sibling, Brenton—insisted on keeping the truth hidden and secret. Mr. Ridgeway was devastated by what his daughter had done to another family and to a rising political career. When his father died, Brenton thought that it was the stress that killed him, but no one could ever be sure. Brenton became so angry at his siblings that he left them and hoped to never have close contact with them again.