Cast the First Scone, page 14
“Of what?”
“Of her heart, what else?” Phil asked. “Billy, Rita spent many years being a cop…a woman who always had control over her life. Now that control, the control she depends on, is being placed in jeopardy because of you.”
“But I ain’t did a thing,” Billy insisted. “Rita is just being silly is all.”
Billy wasn’t understanding—and to be honest, neither was Phil. Women were just far too difficult to understand. “Give Rita time, Billy.”
“Time? Why, when we’re allowed to leave this here lodge, I’m going back to my farm and staying put,” Billy informed Phil in a serious voice. “That gal ain’t been causing me nothing but trouble anyhow…even though I reckon I caused her and Rhonda a bit of trouble of my own when an old enemy from my past decided to pay me a visit. Poor Rhonda fell out of the back of a speeding truck, and Rita was nearly shoved down into a watery hole…”
“Billy, no man knows what bothers a woman until she tells him. Maybe in time Rita will decide to talk to you.” Phil stood up. “I think I’ll go get that coffee now. Want to join me?”
Billy heard movement, turned in his chair, and saw Rita coming down the stairs wearing the same brown dress she had decided to wear the day Rhonda arrived at the lodge. Rita spotted Billy and Phil, offered a polite wave, and made her way toward the kitchen. Billy sighed. “I reckon I’ll go upstairs to my room,” he told Phil and wandered away.
Phil shook his head and went to the kitchen. Agent Brast, a thirty-year-old punk with dark hair who thought he knew everything, looked up at Phil when he entered the kitchen. Agent Brast wanted to be alone with Rita. Rita sure was a looker. “What do you want?”
“Coffee,” Phil explained. He spotted Rita pouring coffee into two brown mugs and waited. “Weather said more snow will be moving in tonight.”
“Yeah, I know,” Rita said in a lonely voice. She finished pouring the coffee, grabbed two bran muffins off the wooden counter, and left the kitchen without saying another word.
Agent Brast stood up from the kitchen table, straightened out the gray suit he was wearing, and looked at Phil with angry eyes. “Make it quick.”
“Sure,” Phil said. He retrieved two brown mugs, filled them with coffee, grabbed Maria a handful of donuts, and walked back upstairs. To his surprise, he saw Rita standing outside of her door looking down the hallway toward Billy’s room. “Ms. Knight?” he called out. “Are you okay?”
Rita fought back a sneeze and shook her head no. “I still feel awful, Mr. Lumpkin,” she said and went into her room without saying more.
Phil shook his head and went back to his wife. “How are you feeling?”
Maria stood up, took her coffee and a donut, and kissed Phil’s cheek. “I wish I could say that I feel better, but that would be a lie.” Maria walked over to the window, pulled back the curtain, and looked out into the snow. “Phil, I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling that something horrible is out there in the snow.”
“Honey, the FBI has dragged every inch of this land. They searched the cave Jason Moods was hiding in,” Phil said, trying to comfort Maria. He walked over to the window and kissed Maria’s cheek. “I spoke to Billy. He isn’t going to tell anyone.”
Maria turned to Phil. “Oh Phil, do we really have to run?” she asked and then sighed. “Of course we do…that was a silly question.” Maria put down her coffee and donut and found her way into Phil’s arms. “I suppose we must run,” she whispered. “Canada is our only option.”
“I was thinking once we arrive in Canada we could fly to New Zealand. I have a friend down there who might be able to help us.”
“A friend?” Maria asked. Phil nodded. “Oh Phil…I wish…” She stopped speaking and went back to the window instead and studied the cold snow for a few moments. “Phil, something is out there, and whatever that something is…we’re not leaving this lodge until it’s dead or…we’re dead.”
Phil felt an icy hand grab his gut and squeeze hard. Maria was speaking words that scared him—words filled with truth. “Honey, you’re scared, that’s all,” he attempted to soothe Maria again and looked out the window into a white world holding the lodge captive. “We’re going to be fine…just wait and see. We’re going to leave this lodge and begin a new life…somewhere…anywhere.”
Maria wasn’t so sure.
***
Billy felt trapped. “Oh, come on and let’s go for a walk out in the snow,” he told Chester. Chester flapped one ear. “Don’t fuss with me. Come on.”
Billy threw on his coat, replaced his ball cap with a red and black muffler, tossed a gray sweater onto Chester, and sneaked out into the snow without telling Agent Brast. Agent Brast wouldn’t have noticed Billy sneaking outside anyway. The jerk was too busy combing his hair, trying to look suave and cool for Rita and Rhonda.
“Better,” Billy said, taking in a deep breath of icy air and looking around at all the snow. “Have you ever seen so much snow in all your life?” he asked Chester. “Reckon if Rita doesn’t buy this lodge, I will. As bad as it’s been, I can’t let people ruin God’s beauty.” Billy drew in another deep breath and walked around the back of the cabin, deciding to take a look at the lake.
Rita, who was standing beside her bedroom window staring down at the lake, spotted Billy out in the snow. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “No one is allowed to leave the lodge.” A loud snore coming from Rhonda’s bed answered Rita. “Billy, what are you doing?”
Billy didn’t hear Rita. He walked down to the beautiful lake, bent down, felt the lake’s icy waters with his bare hand, and then allowed his eyes to soak in a white beauty that was breathtaking. “Sure is pretty,” he told Chester, listening to the lake whisper as the icy winds moved the deep waters back and forth. “Come on, let’s go for a walk out in the woods, huh?” Chester sighed but decided to keep an eye on Billy.
Rita watched Billy leave the trail that connected to the lake and begin walking off into the snowy woods. “Billy…you can’t…oh, you’re impossible,” Rita said in a worried voice. She grabbed her brown coat, checked her gun, rushed downstairs on sick legs, and slipped out of the lodge without being heard. “Billy Northfield, where in the world do you think you’re going?” she complained as the icy winds began clawing at her beautiful face. “Jason Moods is still on the loose, don’t you realize that?”
Billy, unaware that Rita was on his trail, began to walk deeper and deeper into the woods. “We won’t get lost,” he promised Chester. “Me and you both are leaving some pretty deep tracks, and the wind ain’t strong enough to eat our tracks up.” Chester moaned and continued to follow Billy deeper into the woods.
After they walked for what seemed like an hour, Chester came to a sudden stop when his eyes caught sight of a man-made tent. He made a sound that caught Billy’s attention and then flapped his ear. Billy searched the snowy woods and spotted the tent sitting hidden between two low trees. The tent was white and blended in with the snow in such a way that it was nearly impossible to see it.
“Well,” Billy whispered and bent down behind a tree, “what have we found?” Chester looked at Billy with an eye that asked: We? “Okay…okay…you found,” Billy corrected himself. He studied the tent for a while, searching for signs of movement. “Don’t see—”
Before Billy could finish his sentence Wilson exited his tent, searched the snow with skilled eyes, and then reentered the tent. “Could that be that Jason Moods fella?” he asked Chester. Chester didn’t know. Billy bit down on his lip and decided to go back to the lodge and let Agent Brast call for backup. He was unarmed and had no desire to enter a gun fight with a knife. He began easing back into the snow one careful step at a time—and bumped into Rita in the process.
“What are you doing out here?” Rita began to complain.
Billy quickly clamped his hand over Rita’s mouth, pulled her behind a tree, and pointed at Wilson’s tent. “There’s a fella in that there tent.”
Rita quickly pulled out her gun and checked the clip. “Stay put.”
“Dog gone it, what’s eating you?” Billy whispered. “Why are you so mad at me all of a sudden? Is it because I let Chester here take watch?”
Rita stared into Billy’s upset eyes. “Billy, I think…maybe we need to stop—”
Before Rita could finish telling Billy words that were breaking her confused and stubborn heart, Billy reached out, grabbed her face, and planted a mighty kiss on her. Billy had no idea why he kissed Rita the way he did. All of a sudden his heart just forced his arms to grab Rita and kiss her. Rita struggled against the kiss at first and then, to Chester’s shock, melted into Billy’s embrace. Rita had no idea why. She was furious at Billy and angry at herself. Life was simply too confusing to figure out.
“Well, how nice,” Wilson hissed.
Billy let go of Rita, spun around, and saw Wilson standing behind a tree aiming a high-powered rifle at him. “Get behind me,” he whispered to Rita.
“Drop your gun!” Wilson ordered Rita. “Throw your gun down into the snow or die!”
Rita felt trapped all over again. At least she was going to die next to a man she was finally willing to surrender her heart to. “Okay…take it easy.” Rita threw her gun down into the snow.
Wilson grinned but didn’t move. “Easy targets,” he said, aiming the rifle straight at Billy’s chest. He was far enough away from the lodge that the howling winds would hide the rifle shots. “Tell me where the money is and maybe I’ll let you live,” he lied.
“What money?” Rita demanded.
“Uh…I think I know.” Billy winced. “Looks like you’re going to be mad at me all over again.”
“Where is the money?” Wilson asked again. He moved the rifle away from Billy and aimed at Rita. “Tell me or the woman dies!”
Billy reached out and took Rita’s hand, pulled the woman behind him, and stood brave. “You’re gonna have to kill me first.” Chester sighed and slowly began to ease away into the snow.
“Tell me where Mr. Bailey’s money is hidden and I’ll let you both live,” Wilson lied again.
“Billy, is there something I should know?” Rita asked, upset. “Did Phil Lumpkin confess something to you that you’ve been hiding?”
Billy winced again. “Well…a man has to keep his word…I made a promise.”
“Oh, Billy,” Rita complained.
“I know…I know. You can throw a mess of apples at my stubborn head later,” Billy told Rita in a miserable voice. “Right now, we best focus on the situation at hand.”
“How can I consider marrying a man who keeps the truth from me?” Rita asked.
“Marry?” Billy swung around and faced Rita, completely forgetting about Wilson. “You want to marry me?”
Rita dared to lock eyes with Billy. “Well…the thought did cross my mind, Billy Northfield. But…you…I…oh, it’s so confusing.”
“You make it confusing,” Billy fussed. “All two people gotta do is love each other without all them complicated emotions you gals seem to love throwing into the stew pot.”
Wilson watched Rita and Billy begin arguing with each other. “Enough,” he whispered and decided to shoot Rita down. “Time to die…” As Wilson began to pull the trigger, ensuring certain death for Rita, a single rifle shot exploded. Billy grabbed Rita and threw her down into the snow and looked over at Wilson. He saw the man stand straight up—as if he were performing some silly western scene where the bad guy gets shot standing on a roof—drop his rifle, and then…just fall down into the snow.
“Billy…where are you?” Phil yelled.
Rita lifted her face, spit snow out of her mouth, and gave Billy a sour look. “Next time why don’t you just bury me in the snow?”
“Oh, stop fussing,” Billy griped. He grabbed Rita and lifted the woman up to her feet.
Rita looked into Billy’s caring, warm, innocent eyes and stopped being mad at him. “Billy…I’m scared to fall in love,” she confessed. “I thought I was in control of our relationship, but I’m not. When you put Chester on watch…when Howard Maples was killed…it was like a floodgate opening. I realized that I was trusting you far too much—even if you did save my life in Nevada.”
Billy spotted Phil running through the snow holding a rifle in his hands. “Ain’t a soul alive that’s perfect,” he told Rita and smiled. “But a man sure can redeem himself. Take Phil there.” Rita turned and saw Phil nearly trip and splatter down in the snow. “I think Phil done went and got tired of being scared.”
Rita sighed. “Are you telling me to stop being scared?”
“I’m telling you to stop making your insides feel so confused,” Billy explained. He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed Rita again. “Rita, I ain’t ever gonna be perfect, and neither are you. Shoot, my daddy said that if a man and woman were looking to find a perfect match, they’d have to go all the way back to the Garden of Eden…and even then Eve sure got Adam into some mighty serious trouble. My daddy told me Adam probably didn’t pat Eve on the hand. Nah, Adam probably gave Eve an ear full.”
Rita stood very still and stared at Billy. She looked into the man’s warm eyes and wondered if a new life was possible—a life outside of her control. Then a sudden thought struck her worried mind: Yes, marriage meant losing control over your old life…but it meant gaining control of a new life with a man you loved. And if…if…a man like Mr. Moods went back into a dark, cold cave to protect his wife, how much more love lived in a man like Billy Northfield? And if…if…a woman like Mrs. Moods refused to stop loving a man like Mr. Moods—refused to stop being a godly wife—then what did that make Rita? Was Rita supposed to bow out of the fight because her heart was confused and scared?
“Billy…I don’t want to buy this lodge anymore. I want to go home.”
“Mind if I buy this place then?” Billy said.
“Really?” Rita asked in a shocked voice.
“Mighty pretty place to have a wedding.” Billy smiled as Phil finally made his way through the snow. “That was a mighty fine bit of shooting you did.”
“I saw…that man preparing to shoot Rita,” Phil said, out of breath. He breathed steady white trails of smoke into the cold air. “Saw you…Rita…leave the lodge from my window. Maria and I decided it was time for me to…see what was out in this snow.” Phil handed Billy the rifle. “Take this, Billy…I’m through running. I’m going to tell the FBI everything and ask them to put Maria and me into the Witness Protection Program.”
Billy patted Phil’s shoulder with a firm hand. “Mighty proud to call a man like you my friend.”
“Mind telling me your secret now?” Rita asked Phil.
Phil gave Billy a worried look but then drew a brave breath and confessed everything to Rita. “I’ve seen the man I shot before. I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him. I guess Mr. Bailey sent him to kill me and Maria. I don’t know how he found me.”
“There’s always a way,” Rita warned Phil and then looked at Billy. “Billy, I don’t exactly trust the FBI.”
Billy gave Rita a confused eye. “What are you saying?”
“Yes, what are you saying?” Phil asked in a worried voice. “Rita, I’ve confessed everything to you and—”
“Mr. Lumpkin…Phil…what I’m trying to imply is that maybe you should take the money you stole and stay right here at this lodge,” Rita explained.
“This lodge?” Phil asked in a shocked voice.
Billy caught on to Rita’s way of thinking. “Hey…that’s right, lightning rarely strikes in the same place twice. That Mr. Bailey fella will surely figure you won’t stick around after killing his hired skunk.”
Rita picked her gun up off the snow and tucked it away. “Come on,” she said and took Billy’s hand. “Let’s go back to the lodge and warm up.”
“What about that man?” Phil asked and pointed toward Wilson.
“The FBI has already searched this land, Phil. It’ll be very wise to let our shooter remain in the snow until spring.” Rita patted Billy’s hand. “It’ll be wise if we bury that rifle before we get back to the lodge…dear.”
Billy gave Rita another confused look. “Why, you’re breaking every rule in the book.”
“I sure am,” Rita agreed and hugged Billy’s arm. “I guess a woman can’t be practical all the time. Sometimes you have to break the rules to protect the people you love…and your heart.”
“Well, I’ll be.” Billy grinned from ear to ear.
Phil looked at Rita with concerned eyes. “Rita, Maria and I…we can ask the FBI for help.”
“You mean a man like Agent Brast?” Rita asked Phil and watched the icy winds grabbing at the white snow.
“Well…I…” Phil paused, thought of Agent Brast and evaluated the man’s arrogant attitude, and then shook his head no. “I suppose not.”
“Phil, no matter where you run, you’ll always be looking over your shoulder. This Mr. Bailey obviously knew how to find you. Sometimes the wisest thing to do is…” Rita looked into Billy’s eyes, “is stop running and trust in the hope of a new and better life.”
“Do you really think Maria and I will be safe here?” Phil worried.
Billy put his arm around Phil. “If I were chasing you, I sure wouldn’t look in the same place twice,” he assured Phil. “Now I’m not saying I’m right or wrong. Nope. Billy Northfield is just giving you his personal opinion. But at least if you stay here at this lodge…a lodge I’m going to buy…you’ll have friends in your corner.”
Phil looked into Rita’s and Billy’s caring and sincere faces. “Okay…let’s go speak to Maria about your plan,” he said in a relieved voice and then added: “You know, I’ve come to like this lodge…the snow…the land. Maybe in time I’ll learn the land just as well as Mr. Moods did.”
“Maybe in time Old Billy will catch himself a mighty tasty fish out of the lake, too,” Billy added.
“Oh Billy,” Rita sighed. She rolled her eyes, grabbed Billy’s arm, and began walking back toward the lodge, leaving a dead man lying in the snow, the mystery of Jason and Albert Moods unsolved, and a future that probably still held many twists and turns. But that was life, and Rita was certain that the Hidden Winter Lodge Murder Case wasn’t the last case life was going to throw on her plate.
