2 Dancing With Death (23 page)

    
She eyed the shed. The door was almost completely open. There was no time to waste.

    
Betty slammed the golf cart into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, slamming into the trunk of Wes’s car in the process. She winced but kept going. Catching Harry was more important than a few dings.

    
The shed door was completely open and the figure had disappeared back inside of it. Betty stomped down on the gas pedal, feeling the golf cart lurch forward. She was fifty feet from the shed… forty…
 
thirty…

    
A black snow mobile sped out of the shed, heading right for Betty.

CHAPTER 28

    
In an instant, Betty’s whole world slowed. Every sense heightened. She could hear her heartbeat, feel each individual prickle of cold, and see the decals on the snowmobile bearing down on her. Harry was driving, his mouth opened in a furious scream as he caught sight of her.

    
At the last possible moment, both Betty and Harry swerved to avoid the other. Betty managed to hit the brakes before she slammed into a snow bank, her whole body lurching forward. Her chest hit the steering wheel, blaring the horn. Betty slammed backwards into the seat, gasping with pain and terror. Her chest felt like one big bruise, but she immediately stumbled out of the cart, lurching around to see what had become of Harry.
    

    
The snowmobile was also in a snow bank. Its forward-pointing design had allowed it to half submerge itself in the bank. There was no way Harry was going anywhere until he dug it out of the bank, Betty thought with smug satisfaction. Hopefully, the delay would be enough for the police to find them.

    
Harry dismounted from the snowmobile and spun to face Betty, his face a mask of fury. “You bitch!” he screamed. He pulled a gun from his waist, aiming it in Betty’s direction as she tensed to run. “Get over here and dig this out!” he continued.

    
Running from a gun seemed a bit foolhardy. Bullets travelled faster than feet, Betty reasoned, walking over to Harry. And besides, if she was busy digging he wouldn’t shoot. She just had to hang on until the cavalry arrived.

    
Hopefully, it’d arrive very, very soon.

    
“Hands in the air!” Harry yelled as she came closer. Betty did as she was told, stopping when she was in front of him. Harry patted her down, feeling for any hidden weapons. Betty focused her eyes on the snowmobile, knowing that if she looked at him or the gun in his hand she’d be sick.

    
There, on the back of the machine, was a large black bag. A gleam of gold showed through the partially open flap.

    
Harry backed away and gestured with the gun to the snow bank. “Get started,” he said, coldly.

    
Betty did as she was told, using her hands to scoop snow away from the machine. She took a deep breath, careful to avoid eye contact.

    
“How did you know I was out here?” Harry snapped. “If Kristina said anything…”

    
Betty shook her head, keeping her voice calm as she spoke. “It wasn’t her,” she said. “I found out it was you last night.” She told him about her investigation, making it sound like she’d come haring off on her own to catch him. When she glanced back, Harry was looking at her with a cold smile.

    
She had to keep him talking, Betty realized, rubbing her hands together to get some of the water off. They were red and raw, and the snow mobile was still deeply buried.

    
“Why does Xerxes want the cup anyhow?” she asked.

    
Harry snorted. “Because he needs a nice, shiny bauble for his wife,” he spat, “to apologize for making her miss the competition. Stop asking questions and dig,” he said, gesturing with the gun again. Betty flinched as the barrel pointed at her. “Since you know so much, you’ll be coming with me.” Harry smiled without any humor at all. “As insurance.”

    
Betty sighed mentally. Hadn’t she already done the hostage gig a few months ago? She was getting rather sick of murderers thinking it was a good idea to bring her along on their grand escape. And didn’t Harry know that having two passengers instead of one on the snowmobile would make it run slower and be more difficult to steer?

    
Betty certainly wasn’t about to tell him. And she supposed being kept as a hostage was better than being shot right then and there.

    
As she dug, Harry started to talk. Betty rolled her eyes where he couldn’t see. Villains just had to have their monologue, didn’t they?

    
“I would’ve gotten away with it scot-free you know,” he said, “if that little bitch Marissa hadn’t made me kill her. She wasn’t happy with her cut. No, she wanted more! Thought she could trap me into being blackmailed. Ha!” Betty made a mental note of the fact that Bill and Wes hadn’t been far off with their suspect. The assistant had had a role in the theft. “Stop digging,” he said. The snow mobile was uncovered enough so that Harry could back it out of the snow bank. Betty did as she was told and turned to face him.

    
Harry raised the gun at her. “You know,” he said, “I think you know just a little too much. I don’t think you’d make a very good hostage after all.”

    
Betty’s eyes widened, her gaze trained on the gun pointed directly at her chest.

CHAPTER 29

    
“Freeze!” Came Bill’s voice, and Betty was never so glad to hear a sound in her life. Her knees went weak with relief. She looked away from the gun and saw both Bill and Officer Park behind one of the parked cars, their guns trained on Harry. Harry looked at them briefly, his eyes wide with panic.

    
It occurred to Betty that Harry had truly believed he could make a clean getaway with the trophy. It hadn’t ever crossed his mind that he might be caught. But here he was, trained in the crosshairs of two guns. There was no way he could get off a shot at Betty without being gunned down. He was completely in the open.

    
Betty took advantage of Harry’s moment of distraction to dive towards the other side of the snowmobile, where she’d at least have some sort of protection from any ensuing gunfight.

    
A shot rang out as she moved, echoing over the snow.

    
Betty felt a sharp pain on her forehead. When she was safely on the other side of the snow mobile, she reached up. Her bangs were ragged and blood seeped slowly from a cut across her forehead where the bullet had just grazed her forehead.

    
Betty looked at the blood on her hand in disbelief. She dimly heard two other shots ring out and a thud behind her as Harry fell to the ground. But she couldn’t do anything other than stare at the blood on her hand.

    
And stare.

    
And stare.

    
“Betty,” Bill said from right in front of her. His tone was one of complete panic. She looked up at him in a daze, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood on her forehead. “Oh, God.” He took her face in his hands, brushing gently at the wound to make sure it wasn’t serious. When he saw it was just a graze he breathed out a deep sigh before pulling Betty into his arms hugging her desperately. “Oh, God,” he repeated. “I thought I’d lost you.” He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair and holding her tight.

    
Betty relaxed into his hold, bringing her arms up to clutch at his shoulders. It was over. And she was safe. Safe. And Bill was holding her.

    
She didn’t want him to let go.

    
But, after a moment, Bill pulled back. Officer Park appeared behind them. “He’s dead,” he said flatly. Bill nodded, unsurprised. Betty couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry. Harry had had a gun trained on her. She only felt relieved that it was over.

    
The killer had been caught.

    
End of story.

    
“Miss Crawford,” Officer Park said, “while your help in this investigation was invaluable, I’m tempted to bring you up on charges! You could’ve been killed, and I expressly ordered you to stay out the investigation. In addition,” he snapped, “your actions in the golf cart were both foolhardy and reckless.” Officer Park’s voice grew louder, his face reddening. “I should write you tickets for reckless endangerment and leaving the scene of an accident, not to mention stealing and wrecking a vehicle! And where are your glasses?” He roared.

    
Betty blinked at him. How did he know she needed glasses? Bill looked at her apologetically, pulling a glasses case from his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’m sorry,” he said, although Betty was unsure who he was apologizing to. “I didn’t give them to her yet.” He handed Betty the glasses, explaining, “Your optometrist got them sent up with Officer Park. They’re friends.”

    
Betty looked at the glasses case in her hand.

    
He’d handed them to her so… nonchalantly. As though it didn’t matter one whit that she’d suddenly developed an inability to see anything other than blurs past five or ten feet.

    
Her objections to letting him know about her new disability… all that worry and panic she’d undergone on the car ride up… it seemed so pointless now.

    
Bill turned to Officer Park. “Let me talk to her,” he said, “I’ll take care of it.”

    
Officer Park nodded. “See that you do.” He took out his cell phone from his pocket and stepped a few yards away to make a phone call. Betty focused all of her attention on Bill, who was crouched on the ground in front of her.

    
“Betty…” Bill began. He stopped. “Listen,” he said after a moment. “What you did this morning was reckless, irresponsible, and could have gotten you and other people hurt or killed. But,” he said, forestalling her protest, “I understand why you did it, and, in the end, you were right. We wouldn’t have caught Harry without your help, and we might never have known who the killer was. And all the actions you took you took in the heat of the moment in an attempt to do the right thing. You don’t deserve a ticket for today.”

    
Betty leaned back against the snowmobile, relieved that Bill understood. She hadn’t been trying to get herself almost killed. That had just been an unfortunate side effect.

    
“But,” Bill continued, his voice turning stern. “What you did on the way to the hotel does deserve a ticket.”
    
“Wait, what?” Betty asked, shocked. Bill was writing her a ticket? She thought that he understood! But, the proof was right in front of her as Bill pulled his ticket book out of his pocket and started filling out the information. He continued to talk as he wrote, keeping his voice soft enough that there was no chance Officer Park could overhear.

    
“You should never have gotten behind the wheel of that car if you couldn’t see to drive. You put your life in danger. You put your friends’ lives in danger, and every other driver on the road between Lofton and where we switched seats.”

    
When he put it that way….

    
Bill met her eyes squarely as he handed her the yellow sheet. “Friends don’t put friends in danger because they’re too vain to say they need help.”

    
Betty took the slip, knowing he was right. She’d been stupid.

    
She just couldn’t stand the idea of Bill knowing she had diabetes. She’d been certain that if he knew she was sick, he’d walk away from any chance of dating her without a second thought.

    
Now, seeing how little Bill cared about her needing glasses, Betty wondering if she might be wrong. Bill wasn’t upset about her handicap, he was upset about her attempt to hide it. Might he be able to come to terms with her disease?