They talked for several minutes.
Joe returned to my car; I hoped he was going to drive on to the police station, but he turned into Albert's road instead. My heart sank. I twisted around and saw that Carol had also turned into the road but then stopped. She apparently wasn't going to follow us any farther.
Joe drove around several bends and down a hill until we were out of sight from Carol but still out of sight from Albert's house. As we came around a right-angle turn there were three deer smack in the middle of the road. Joe slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop. The deer regarded us with insouciant stares and didn't move.
I had previously regarded the proliferation of deer in the area as a nuisance, but not now. Joe impatiently honked the horn, but then quit, apparently fearing that he might attract attention, even out there in the middle of nowhere. I hoped the deer had nothing on their schedules and would remain where they were.
They started walking slowly down an old path. We watched them for a few seconds and then Joe suddenly started up, turned into the path, which was wide enough for a car, and stopped again. He pushed me forward in my seat and quickly ripped the duct tape off my hands. Then he bent down and took it off my feet.
“Get out of here,” he said. “Go to the house, but stay off the road until you're near the house. Carol's going to come in a few minutes to make sure you're dead and to pick me up. I didn't dare go to the police station because I was afraid she'd shoot up this car with us in it.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Don't worry about me. I'll drive the car far enough into the woods down this old path so she can't see from here that it hasn't been damaged, and stop it against a tree. Then I'll come back and wait for her. When she gets here I'll act like I've been in an accident. That will be easy; I've been in enough of them.”
“Be careful,” I said.
“I will.”
I opened the car door and laboriously stepped out. I immediately fell on my face; my leg had fallen asleep.
“Are you all right?” Joe asked.
“I'm fine,” I said, crawling away from the car. “Go on.”
I feared that Carol would come and catch us here. Joe reached over and pulled the door shut. Then he drove the car into the woods. I struggled to stand with the help of the nearest tree. My leg prickled and had no strength; I hobbled a few steps and leaned against another tree.
A fallen tree blocked my path, a remnant of last year's hurricane. the tree was too long to walk around in my present condition. I decided to climb over it. I managed to get one leg over the trunk and I was swinging the other leg over when it caught on a branch and I fell again.
Pain shot through me. I needed to get up, but when I raised myself to a kneeling position and tried to stand, my gimpy leg collapsed. As I lay there I heard footsteps; Joe was walking fast back toward the road.
I heard a car coming. It must be Carol. The car stopped a few feet from me. The fallen tree hid me from her view and vice versa. I strained to listen.
The car door opened and Carol said something that sounded like “Well?”
Joe said, “It worked slick as grease. Everything's fine. I just hurt my knee a little.”
“But the car's so far off the road.”
“It was easier to do it that way. The trees are too close together along here and too close to the road.”
“You idiot! Nobody's going to believe she drove way in there by accident.”
“Maybe they will.”
“Did you take the tape off her?”
“Of course. Here it is.”
“I want to see her.”
Footsteps.
“We've got to get out of here, Carol. Somebody might come.”
“I just want to make sure you didn't leave any evidence. If you're hurt, wait here for me.”
“I swear everything's clean. Let's just go.”
More footsteps. The two were now on the other side of my tree, both speaking at once.
Carol said, “Leave me alone, damn it!”
Joe said, “Wait! Give me the gun. It's over, Carol.”
Sounds of a scuffle. A gunshot. Another. A masculine groan. Then temporary silence.
The silence was broken by more footsteps, moving in the direction of my car. Running footsteps. When the sound diminished I realized I had been holding my breath. I gulped air and threatened to hyperventilate. I consciously slowed my breathing, but my heart didn't slow down. It was going for a record.
I painfully got to my knees so that I could peek over the log. I poked my head up and saw Joe, lying on his back, right in front of me, blood soaking his shirt. He didn't move. His helmet was off and he looked handsome, even in death.
I turned my head toward my car; I could see it through the trees. Carol was looking in the window. I had a few seconds of leeway before she came back, searching for me. I looked around but I didn't see a better hiding place than where I was. I couldn't move very far, anyway, without her seeing me. I hoped she didn't conduct a thorough search.
Carol circled my car, speeding up as she went. The only thing that was saving me was that she was searching for me where I wasn't. I turned my head and looked at Carol's car. It was much closer to me than to Carol. I was an experienced Mercedes driver. It had a security code, but I remembered it from our discussion on the previous Sunday. Could I reach it before she did, in spite of my leg? If so, was the key in it?
It faced toward Albert's house and there wouldn't be time to turn it around on the one-lane road. If I managed to get it started and drove to the house I could get there before Carol could back my car to the road and follow me. That would give me time to alert Albert and he had a rifle.
I was tempted to try to reach Carol's car, but even if I beat Carol to the car she could hit me with a lucky shot. Still, that might be preferable to waiting for her to find me-waiting to die.
I was getting up my nerve to attempt a dash to Carol's car when she started back toward me. It was too late for me now because she would see me as soon as I moved, and break into a run. And even wearing a skirt she could easily outrun me in my present condition.
She looked from one side to another as she came. She walked a few feet off the path to check behind several fallen trees. She would do the same when she got to mine. I prepared to duck my head because she was getting too close for comfort.
I thought I heard the sound of another car, approaching from the main road. Carol stopped walking; she heard it too. She stood, undecided, for four or five heartbeats; then she ran for her car, gun in hand. I quickly lowered my head and listened to the sound of her footsteps as they hurried by me, crunching twigs and dead leaves.
I popped my head up again and saw Sandra's little red Toyota come around the corner. Carol had reached her Mercedes, but she didn't get in. She dropped her gun into the pocket of her suit jacket and turned to face the oncoming car. It pulled up behind Carol's car and stopped. Sandra was driving; Mark sat in the passenger seat; Winston sat in his car-seat in the back.
As the two older ones got out, Carol went into an act. “There's been a terrible accident!” she cried, pointing down the path she had just retraced, toward my car. When Sandra and Mark looked in that direction they also saw Joe's body.
I couldn't let them get sucked into anything, especially with Winston here. With a great effort I stood up and shouted, “Watch out! She's got a gun!”
Sandra and Mark stared at me. I must have looked like one of the living dead. I had blood on my face and dirt all over. My appearance distracted them from Carol, who looked at me too.
“Thank God you're alive!” Carol said, striding the few steps to me. She kept one hand in the pocket with the gun. “I thought you had been…” she hesitated.
“Killed?” I asked.
She grabbed my arm with her free hand.
“Carol shot Joe!” I shouted. “She tried to kill me too.”
