by Sarah Fox
Then it hit me. There weren’t many snowshoe tracks ahead of me. It looked as though two or three people had followed this trail since the last snowfall, but not the six or seven people I knew were ahead of me in the race.
I paused, wondering if I should turn back. But surely Bobby wouldn’t have steered me along the wrong route.
Still feeling unsure, I kept going forward, until I reached the top of the next hill. The tracks in the snow ahead of me turned around, heading back the way I’d come. And I soon saw why. The path followed a gentle slope down to a cliff that overlooked a small valley.
Bobby had sent me the wrong way.
How he’d made such a mistake, I didn’t know. Maybe he’d taken over for another volunteer and when he’d realized that the trail marker was lying in the snow he’d tacked it back up in the wrong spot. Maybe when it had fallen, the wind had blown it a ways.
Except there wasn’t any wind.
However it had happened, I definitely wasn’t on the right trail.
I let out a sound of disappointment. There was nothing to do but turn around. I’d most likely finish the race in last place now, but there was nothing I could do about it.
I retraced my steps, going as fast as I could, not wanting to show up at the finish line ages behind everyone else.
As I was about to descend the largest hill, I spotted movement through the trees.
I paused, breathing hard. Something red moved along the pathway, around one of the trail’s many twists and turns.
Bobby, I realized, in his red vest.
Was he coming to tell me about his mistake?
He disappeared from sight for a second and then I caught another brief glimpse of him. But this time I saw more than his red vest. I also noticed his knitted hat.
My heart stuttered and fear formed a heavy lump in my stomach.
The hat was the same one he’d been wearing when I saw him at the parade, but only my subconscious had grasped its significance that night. Now it was glaringly obvious. The hat was gray, with a decorative pattern in burnt orange. The same shade of yarn as I’d seen on the ice pick driven through Freddy’s heart.
Bobby wasn’t coming to tell me he made a mistake about the race route.
He was coming to kill me.
Chapter 29
I turned faster than I thought possible on snowshoes and galloped along the trail.
What do I do? I screamed in my head.
There was a killer twice my size, and likely with twice my strength, charging up the trail behind me. And I was heading straight for a cliff.
What I needed was my cell phone.
I reached for my jacket pocket.
Oh, for the love of Dame Agatha! I wasn’t wearing a jacket. I knew I’d get hot during the race, so I’d only worn a long-sleeved shirt and a sweater, and in my rush to make it to the starting line on time, I’d forgotten my phone at home.
I desperately hoped that wouldn’t turn out to be a deadly decision.
My pace frantic, I glanced over my shoulder. Bobby wasn’t in sight at the moment, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he made it through the dip in the trail and could see all the way down to the cliff’s edge.
I didn’t have a plan, other than to try my best not to panic— something I was barely succeeding at—but when I reached the cliff, I had to make a decision.
I couldn’t go forward and I couldn’t go back.
My only option was to veer off the path and into the forest. But no matter what I did, Bobby would see my tracks.
I grabbed a broken evergreen branch and swept snow over my tracks as I sidestepped into the forest. As soon as I was within the tree line, I dropped the branch and dashed deeper into the woods, tree limbs snagging at my hair and sweater. I made it no more than fifteen feet before I had to stop. The undergrowth and fallen branches made it impossible for me to get any farther on snowshoes.
Crouching down, I hurriedly unstrapped my snowshoes and kicked them free of my boots. I grabbed one snowshoe in each hand and climbed over a fallen tree. On the other side of it, I sank knee-deep into the snow. I struggled onward.
It didn’t take long for my legs to start to burn. My heart was ready to beat right out of my chest from a mixture of fear and exertion.
“Sadie!” Bobby’s voice rang out like a gunshot.
I dropped into a crouch again, terrified that he could see me through the trees.
“I know you’re out here!”
So he couldn’t see me?
I realized I was holding my breath and forced myself to let it out. Peering through the trees, I spotted Bobby’s red vest. He was out on the trail, near the edge of the cliff. He turned my way and I ducked down again.
Think, I ordered myself. You need to get out of here.
But how?
Bobby was so close that he’d hear me if I moved. The snow would crunch under my feet and twigs would snap. I couldn’t avoid that.
I needed to wait for the right opportunity.
Cautiously, I raised my head. I had to peer around the trunk of a bare-limbed sugar maple to catch sight of Bobby this time.
Maybe this was my opportunity.
He had his back to me and was moving slowly toward the trees on the other side of the path.
I knew I might not get another chance to make a run for it. I almost ditched my snowshoes, but I’d need them if I managed to break free of the forest.
Gripping one in each hand, I crept through the trees, trying to move as quietly as possible. I needed every second I could get for a head start.
“You can’t get away, Sadie.”
Bobby’s voice sent my heart into my throat. A branch hidden beneath the snow snapped when I stepped on it. I winced and froze. Hardly daring to breathe, I turned my head until I caught a glimpse of Bobby. He still had his back to me. I crept onward.
“This is my cousin’s land,” Bobby called out. “I grew up roaming through these woods. Wherever you hide, I’ll find you.”
His calm confidence spiked my fear. I moved faster, desperate to put more distance between us.
A branch caught on my sweater and then snapped free, rustling against other branches as it whipped back.
“There you are.”
The words chilled me right through to my bones.
“Come out, come out!”
Bobby was following the path now, watching me as we moved parallel to each other, about forty feet between us. I pushed aside some evergreen branches and clambered over a tangle of undergrowth and fallen, spindly trees.
“Why did you do it, Bobby?” I asked, unable to take the silence that had fallen between us. “Why did you kill Freddy and Jade?”
Bobby kept his pace casual while I struggled to make my way through the woods, sometimes sinking down to my knees in the snow.
“With all the questions you’ve been asking, I’d have thought you’d know,” he said.
“How do you know I’ve been asking questions?”
“I saw you grilling Eli at the parade. Plus, Lara was complaining about what a snoop you are. I knew you’d cause me problems if I let you keep on nosing about.”
I was finding it harder and harder to keep myself from panicking. I was hoping to break out of the woods, onto the pathway where it curved around. But even if I did that, Bobby wouldn’t be far behind me, and without my snowshoes on, I’d be at a disadvantage.
“You still haven’t told me why you killed them,” I said.
“Both for the same reason.”
Suddenly that reason was as clear to me as the cloudless winter sky.
“Penny,” I said. “You’re in love with her.”
“How could I not be?”
I could see the trail ahead of me now.
“So you killed Freddy because of the way he treated Penny?” I knew I was right.
“He broke her heart all those years ago, and then he showed up here in town and treated her like dirt. He didn’t deserve to live. You should have been mad at h
im too. He stole your friend’s tools. He dumped them by the town hall but then decided to do a better job of it. I caught him in the act of moving them to the alley.”
My foot slipped and I nearly twisted my ankle. “What about Jade?” I asked as I recovered, using one snowshoe as a crutch to leverage me up out of the deep snow.
“I went to the police station to tell them I was with Penny when Freddy was killed. That woman was there, telling an officer about all the letters and e-mails Penny had sent Freddy over the years. She told the cop that Penny was bitter and crazy.” He let out a growl of anger that nearly froze my heart with fear. “Nobody talks about my Penny that way.”
Bobby was the crazy one, and I was next on his hit list.
“Why did you leave Jade’s body at Leo’s place?” I asked, hoping to distract him until I could make my move.
“It was a coincidence that I managed to run her off the road near his property. Then I figured, what better way to make him look even guiltier than he did already?”
I was only half listening to him. The trail was just twenty feet ahead of me now.
Still gripping my snowshoes, I charged forward, stumbling and flailing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bobby break into a loping run on his snowshoes.
I burst out of the forest. I tried to run along the trail, but I kept sinking deep into the snow. I needed my snowshoes on.
I glanced over my shoulder as I dropped them to the ground. I could hear Bobby coming, but he was still around the bend.
My breaths shallow and fast, I strapped my snowshoes on as quickly as I could, my fingers feeling clumsy and uncooperative. I had the straps fastened within seconds, but it felt more like hours.
As I straightened up, Bobby came charging around the curve in the trail. He was only thirty feet away from me and closing in fast.
With a gasp, I broke into a run, moving faster than I ever had before on snowshoes.
But it wasn’t fast enough.
With every step I could hear Bobby gaining on me.
I felt rather than saw him loom behind me. I swerved off toward the tree line, hoping to dart out of his grasp.
He tackled me from behind, the force of the impact knocking the air out of my lungs. I fell forward and hit the snow.
I kept falling.
My foot caught on something and my face hit a wall of snow.
For a second I didn’t move, too stunned to react. Then I became aware of the snow filling my mouth and the fact that I was upside down.
I flailed, trying to right myself.
Something fell on top of me, making it hard to move.
Snow, I realized.
Don’t panic!
I stopped flailing. My mind finally caught up, sifting through the last few seconds to make sense of my situation.
When Bobby had tackled me, we’d fallen into a tree well, headfirst. I could feel one of Bobby’s legs tangled with mine.
It took every ounce of my self-restraint to keep myself from flailing again. I was headfirst down a hole, half buried with snow, trapped with a murderer.
I carefully moved my arms, trying to prevent more snow from falling off the tree’s lower branches. I scooped snow away from my face so it was easier to breathe. Then I felt around for something to grab on to. My gloved fingers found the rough bark of the tree trunk. I snaked my arm through the snow to wrap it around the trunk, anchoring myself so I wouldn’t fall any deeper.
I tried to remember what I knew about tree wells. It wasn’t much, other than the fact that they were dangerous and extremely difficult to get out of on your own. My feet, with my snowshoes still attached, were caught on something. I could barely move them.
At least I had an air pocket around my face. That would buy me some time. But would it be enough?
I tried to tunnel my right arm through the snow, thinking that if I could hug the tree trunk, maybe I could slowly haul myself upward. Instead of the trunk, my right hand touched something else. I brushed the snow away as best I could in the confined space.
A scream tried to work its way out of my throat, but I bit it back.
I’d uncovered Bobby’s face, less than a foot away from mine. His eyes were closed and he didn’t stir.
Had he suffocated under the snow?
The urge to flee, to get away from him, was so strong that I had to focus on nothing but breathing for several seconds to keep myself from panicking.
He can’t hurt you, I told myself.
Not until he wakes up.
That unwelcome thought popped into my mind.
Was he dead or unconscious? I didn’t want to stay in the tree well long enough to find out.
I needed help.
I tried yelling, but the sound was muffled by the snow. No one would hear it. Someone might discover that Bobby and I were missing, but it could be ages before they searched this trail. And they might not find us even if they walked right past this tree.
Trying to keep my fear under control, I stared at Bobby’s snow-dusted face. I’d thought he was a nice, affable man. Now the sight of him filled me with terror.
I noticed his red vest peeking out from beneath the snow. The volunteer at the starting line had a two-way radio. Maybe Bobby did too.
My heart soaring with newfound hope, I carefully tunneled my right hand through the snow. The thought of Bobby regaining consciousness and opening his eyes horrified me, but if I wanted to survive, I had to keep searching for the radio.
My gloved fingers blindly followed the fabric of Bobby’s jacket. My movements dislodged more snow and it cascaded down onto my face.
I couldn’t breathe.
I spat the snow out of my mouth and shook my head. I drew in a breath and opened my eyes. The new snow hadn’t filled my airhole. That brought me a sputtering of relief.
A second later, that relief bloomed.
My hand closed around Bobby’s radio.
Chapter 30
I hummed the tune of “Sleigh Ride” as I parked my car in Grayson’s driveway. Colored lights outlined the front door and the floor-to-ceiling windows of his blue-and-gray house. I grabbed the bottle of wine and the box of maple sugar candies I’d brought and climbed the two steps to the door.
I was about to press a finger to the doorbell when the door opened, startling me.
“Merry Christmas,” Grayson said with a smile.
Was it just me or were his blue eyes brighter than usual?
My heart fluttered. “Merry Christmas.”
Once inside, I presented him with the wine and candies and shed all my outerwear. It was only a two-minute drive from my doorstep to his, but the wind felt like it was swooping down from the Arctic, so I’d bundled up before leaving.
“The tree is beautiful,” I said as he led me into his living room.
The Douglas fir took up one corner of the room and was decorated with lights, garlands, and colorful baubles. Flames danced and crackled in the fireplace, giving the room a cozy, cheery feel.
“Thank you.” Grayson stopped to admire the tree as well. “Decorating the Christmas tree is one of my favorite holiday traditions.”
“Mine too.”
I smiled at him and I could have sworn that a spark of electricity shot through my body when our gazes locked. We stood there, staring at each other, my heart thudding away, until Grayson cleared his throat.
“Would you like some hot apple cider?”
“Please.”
On the way to the kitchen, I stopped in front of a large bookcase that rose all the way up to the ceiling. Every shelf was filled. I spotted some familiar titles, including ones by Michael Crichton, Tom Clancy, and Louise Penny.
So Grayson was a reader, after all. I smiled.
His comment about me not snooping far enough made sense now. When I’d peered through his window back in the fall, I hadn’t seen the bookshelf. If I had, I never would have mistaken him for a nonreader.
Tearing myself away from Grayson’s book collection, I followed him in
to his modern kitchen. I’d peeked into the room before—through the window while I was snooping—but it was even more impressive now that I was inside and breathing in the delicious aromas emanating from the stove and the wall ovens.
“Oh, my Lucy Maud.” My gaze settled on a pumpkin pie sitting on the granite countertop. “Is that the pumpkin pie?”
“It is.”
My mouth watered.
Grayson ladled cider into a mug from a pot on the stove. Of course he’d made the cider himself. Was there anything the man couldn’t do?
“How are you?” he asked, his face serious.
“Great, thanks.”
He handed me the mug. “For real?”
I breathed in the delicious scent of apples and spices. “Yes. Bobby’s locked away, Mel’s free, and it’s Christmas. All is well.”
Aside from the fact that I missed my family.
I was relieved that I’d so far had only two nightmares about my frightening encounter with Bobby and the tree well. I knew it could have been the end of me. It would have been, if not for Bobby’s radio, which I’d used to summon help.
Bobby was still unconscious when rescuers pulled him out, but he woke up in the hospital later, with police officers by his side, so I’d been told. I’d heard through the town grapevine that the remnants of the gloves Penny had knitted for him were found in the fire pit behind his house. The gray-and-orange gloves had matched his hat. He’d pretended he’d lost them, because they got covered in blood when he stabbed Freddy.
I tried to banish my unpleasant memories and took a sip of apple cider to soothe me. It worked wonders.
“I’m glad nothing worse happened to you,” Grayson said.
His gaze met mine and again I felt a jolt of electricity surge through my bloodstream.
He stepped closer. “Sadie . . .”
The doorbell rang. Startled, I nearly spilled my apple cider.
Grayson touched a hand to my arm. “Excuse me a moment.”
I followed him out of the kitchen, my heart beating faster than normal. I lingered by the Christmas tree as he crossed the living room to the front door.
“Merry Christmas!” I heard a familiar voice say.
I didn’t think I could have heard correctly. I set my mug of apple cider down on a side table and hurried to the foyer.