Armed and Glamorous

by Ellen Byerrum

  “We are coming there. We will find you.” Kepelov hung up.

  “Hey,” Brooke said, “what kind of reporter are you? Give me the news.”

  “Kepelov said he and Marie are coming. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “If he’s on our side for a change, I’ll take him,” Brooke said. “But good luck getting here in this storm, Kepelov.”

  Lacey’s phone rang again. Mac’s number popped up. She thought about letting it go to voice mail, but she picked up. “Yes, Mac.”

  “Where are you? Kim tells me the girls are worried about you and your pal Stella.” He sounded exasperated.

  “Hard to explain.”

  “You’re a wordsmith. Start talking.”

  Lacey gave Mac the briefest possible version, promising an update soon. Mac was noncommittal about her story, but Lacey thought her own theory of why Willow would kidnap Stella sounded a little less improbable every time she told it. Mac laid down the law: He would run no stories about this till the shooter was caught.

  Brooke swung the Acura into the nearly empty parking lot by the Great Falls Park visitors’ center. The pavement was still wet and dark, but snow was already starting to cover a few Park Service vehicles. They hadn’t moved for a while. There was only one other car: Stella’s bright red Mini Cooper with an American flag painted on the roof. Lacey felt relieved and vindicated. So far her hunch, and her reading of the Code, was working.

  Brooke parked next to the Mini. It was locked and empty. There was no one around. The park was silent and deserted in the snow. The visitors’ center, the Potomac River, and Great Falls itself lay just down the trail through the trees. There were faint footprints in the fresh snow on the trail, two sets of prints partially filled in by fresh snow, one in boots, the other wearing high heels. Only Stella would be wearing stilettos with a snowstorm on the way, Lacey thought.

  “I hate to sound like you, Brooke,” Lacey said, “but I think we have to formulate a plan.”

  “Don’t worry, I have a plan. I have a gun in the trunk.”

  “A gun? You keep a gun in the car?”

  “Chill, Lacey, I’m heading to the range tonight with Damon. I was, anyway. All bets are off now. But I only brought the three fifty-seven. It’ll have to do.”

  Brooke opened the trunk of the gray Acura. She unlocked her padded gun case and calmly loaded the shiny stainless Smith & Wesson revolver. Lacey felt her heart pounding.

  “I don’t want to use a gun, Brooke! I just want to keep her talking till Vic and Nigel get here. Maybe we can solve this without—”

  “Talk all you want. I’m loading the gun. Now what? Wait for Vic?”

  “No, we have to find Stella.” Lacey pulled out her phone and called Vic. “We’re here at Great Falls. Where are you?”

  “We’re on the road. It’s a mess out here. There was a pileup in the snow on the damn Parkway, you must have missed it. The Jeep is good, but there are cars sliding all over the road. Where are you exactly? Is anybody else there? Nigel says he and Stella have been up there before. Do you see anything?”

  “We’re right by Stella’s car in the lot. I see two sets of footprints in the snow.”

  “You spotted her yet?”

  “No, but only Stella would wear those death-defying heels out in this weather.”

  “Okay, I’m calling the big dogs in. I’m just afraid the police will be busy working all the roads, who knows what they can spare for this.” Vic said something to Nigel, then returned to Lacey. “We’ll be there in five, maybe ten minutes. Wait for us.”

  The footprints on the trail were beginning to fade beneath the new fallen snow. It was getting colder and Lacey could just imagine Stella out there in the blowing snow, wearing practically nothing, as usual, and in those sky-high heels she loved so much. And Willow, pointing a gun at her head.

  “That’s too long, Vic! I can’t leave Stella out there with that woman!”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into here. Lacey, I’m serious. Please wait for me. Five minutes!”

  Lacey took a deep breath. “No, Vic.”

  “What? Lacey—”

  “I can’t wait for you. Please come quickly before my footprints disappear.” She clicked off the phone. He rang back instantly. She let it ring. She turned to Brooke and brushed a little snow from her friend’s hair.

  “Let’s go find Stella,” Lacey said. Brooke nodded and picked up the gun.

  The footprints led them through the passageway between the two small buildings of the visitors’ center, and the park opened up before them. Below the bluffs on their left they could hear the roaring of the Great Falls of the Potomac. The river tumbled over massive boulders into whitewater before funneling into the narrow Mather Gorge. The main trail led south past a picnic area to hiking trails down the river. Smaller trails forked off to the bluffs and cliffs. Lacey and Brooke stopped where a short side trail led off to a wide cliffside observation deck commanding a dramatic view of the falls.

  “Didn’t Stella mention the roar of the falls?” Brooke asked. “When she was here doing the deed with Nigel?”

  Over the rushing water a clap of thunder split the air like a gunshot. They both jumped. Lightning illuminated the low gray clouds. Thunder, not gunfire.

  Lacey was grateful she’d worn tall leather boots and her wool slacks. She fastened her coat and snugged down her faux fur hat.

  “Perfect,” Brooke muttered, pulling on her stocking cap. “Now we have thunder and snow. Yay, Marie. Which trail? Any ideas?”

  Where are you, Stella? Lacey tried to remember exactly where Stella said she and Nigel had enjoyed their Great Falls sexcapade. One of the overlooks above the river? The highest one? That would fit Stella’s flair for exhibitionism.

  “This way.” Lacey pointed to the next trail. Through the bare trees they caught a glimpse of a tiny walled overlook at the highest crest of the bluff above the Potomac. The trail twisted around trees and climbed over wet boulders and exposed bedrock, slippery with snow. As they came around one boulder, Lacey caught sight of two blondes standing at the edge, beside a jagged wall of rough native stone and masonry surmounted by a waist-high wooden railing. Below them, the waters roiled and rumbled over stone as they had for eons. The thunder cracked again.

  Wrapped in a silver parka, Willow looked like an other-worldly creature, a snow witch or an ice goddess. Her startling white-blond hair was dusted with blowing snow, and the only color in her face was on her lips, a smear of blood-red lipstick. She was pointing a gun at Stella, who was wobbling on her high heels, shivering in her baby blue jacket and tight blue slacks.

  “We have to get closer.” Lacey led Brooke off the trail and over the rocks, slipping behind one boulder after another. As they came around the last boulder, another flash of lightning lit the snow. They heard yelling, but the words were muffled by the storm. Willow poked her hostage with the gun and made her turn to face the Falls. Lacey saw Stella peer down over the side of the bluff into the black water below.

  Lacey and Brooke moved closer to the overlook, crouching low, until they were within fifty feet of the women. If there was some way to distract Willow, Stella might be able to make a break for it. Lacey eyed fallen branches she could throw to get her attention. But the choice was made for her: A branch laden with heavy wet snow cracked above their head and fell at Lacey’s feet, blowing her cover.

  Stella spun around and saw Lacey and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, Lacey, I knew you’d come and get me, but where’s the posse?”

  Willow turned to face them. Around her neck, she wore a fortune in Cecily’s pearls—the pearls that had once belonged to Rita Hayworth.

  “What are you doing here?” she screamed. “Go away!”

  Lacey stepped behind a nearby tree, Brooke right behind her. “Put the gun down, Willow. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I’m not stupid! Don’t you know that by now? Don’t tell me what to do! I know what I want and I
’m going to have it.”

  “You’re right, you do. You wanted Cecily’s antique makeup case and her pearls, and you took them, didn’t you?”

  “She didn’t need them. She had so many other beautiful things. Cecily had too many things. I’m just redistributing the wealth.”

  “I think you’re really smart, Willow.” Lacey was willing to bet Willow craved a little recognition for all her accomplishments.

  Willow smiled. “It was pretty easy.”

  “You really fooled me. All of us.”

  “Not too hard. I just followed Mr. Hunt’s rules. I joined your girls’ club to learn more about Nigel.”

  Stella couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Lacey, she wants my Nigel.”

  “Shut up, bitch,” Willow screamed at Stella. She grabbed Stella’s throat with one hand and pointed her gun at Lacey, a large flat black automatic pistol. Lacey couldn’t identify it, but it certainly wasn’t Eric O’Neil’s old .22 revolver, the gun she expected Willow to have.

  “Where did you get that gun?” Lacey asked. She was aware of movement behind her. Brooke was getting impatient behind her tree.

  “I don’t know,” Willow said. “Somebody reported it stolen.”

  “Like Eric did, when you stole his gun to shoot Nina? And Cecily too, right?”

  “I had to get rid of that one,” Willow said.

  “You must have really hated Nina,” Lacey said.

  “No!” Willow waved the gun for emphasis. “I never hated her. Nina was my friend, but she got in the way. No one ever looked at me when she was around. That’s the way it was. But not anymore.”

  “I know you want Nigel, but you don’t have to hurt Stella to get him now.”

  Willow’s hollow laugh carried over the falling water and the wind. It was the first time Lacey had heard her laugh. “And why is that?”

  “Because Nigel’s coming here,” Lacey said. “He’ll be here any minute. Nigel is who you really want, isn’t it? You take him, we’ll take Stella, and nobody will get hurt.” She took a step forward.

  “Nigel isn’t all I want. Don’t come any closer.” Willow held the gun in her right hand, and from her left dangled a key on a gold chain. Stella’s key.

  “You have everything you need, Willow. You’re a whole new woman now. You have what Nigel wants. You have the key. And now you’ll have Nigel too.” Lacey took another step.

  The woman laughed again. “It’s mine now, not hers. Nigel belongs to me.”

  “That’s right. Everything’s all right now.”

  “Lacey, what are you doing?” Stella blurted out. “You can’t let her take Nigel—”

  “Shut up!” Willow commanded with a wave of the gun. To Lacey she said, “I have to kill her so he’ll never have to think about her again. It’s only logical.”

  “You’re wrong about that, Willow,” Lacey said. “If you kill Stella, he’ll always remember her. He’ll never stop thinking about her. But if you let her go, he’ll forget all about her, and he’ll focus on you. That’s what you want.”

  “She’s right,” Brooke broke in from her tree next to Lacey, her gun held out of sight at her side. “He’ll forget her. But if you kill her, he’ll dream about her. For the rest of his life.”

  “Hey, what do you mean he’ll forget about me?” Stella complained.

  Willow tightened her chokehold on Stella and swung the gun at Brooke. “Who is that?”

  “I’m a friend,” Brooke said.

  “You’re not my friend. You go away,” Willow commanded. “Both of you. Before I kill you both.”

  The next lightning strike was so close it must have hit the river. The thunder was deafening. Stella grabbed for the gun, but Willow smashed her across the face with it. Stella staggered back against the wall. Willow spun around toward Lacey and Brooke and fired. Lacey saw the flash from the muzzle, but the sound of the gun was lost in another crack of thunder. Brooke pushed backward into Lacey and they both hit the cold wet ground.

  Lacey shoved Brooke bodily into the mud and snow behind a boulder and dived in after her. “Brooke! Are you all right?” She could hear Willow laughing over the roar of the Falls.

  “Yes! I’m okay, but that bitch is totally out of her mind. Come on, let’s go get her.” Brooke crouched and brushed wet leaves and snow from her stainless steel revolver. “We’ll make her wish she was never born.” Lacey pushed her back down to the ground with a plop. Brooke looked up at her in surprise.

  “No. Just me. This is my battle, Brooke. I need your gun.”

  “Wait a minute! You’re the one who didn’t want to use the gun—”

  “It has to be me,” Lacey said. “I’m the one who sent Willow to Stella, I’m the one who has to fix it. I need the gun. Now!” Another bullet flew over their heads and ricocheted off the rocks behind them. They ducked again. “If anything happens to Stella, I’ll never forgive myself. So don’t even think about adding to my psychic burden by getting in the way of a bullet here!”

  Brooke stared at her. “But Lacey—”

  “Please, just stay here and wait for Vic. I can’t wait any longer.”

  Brooke reluctantly handed over the .357. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  In her peripheral vision, Lacey caught sight of a dark line coming her way, a line of men: Vic in a knitted cap, bare-headed Nigel, and Kepelov in some sort of big Russian fur hat. But they were very far away up the trail in the snow.

  More bullets screamed over Lacey’s head through the tree branches and falling snow. She crouched down and slipped out from behind the rocks and trees to get a clear line of sight at Willow. She heard Stella screaming. Lacey reached the uneven open ground at the overlook to see Willow and Stella struggling by the wall. Stella fell hard on her bottom, high heels in the air. Willow lunged for her, but Stella grabbed for the gun and tripped her. Willow went down, the gun went flying, and Stella raked Willow’s face with her candy-pink talons. She drew blood.

  Then a voice came out of the storm. It carried an English accent, but somehow he sounded like any frightened man shouting for the woman he loved.

  “Stella! Stella!” It was Nigel’s voice, followed by Nigel himself, slipping and falling in the snow, a hundred yards or more up the twisting trail. Lacey caught a glimpse of Vic, just ahead of him.

  “Nigel!” Stella screamed back. “I’m here, Nigel!” She clambered to her feet and leaned back against the railing to catch her breath. She shielded her eyes to peer through the snow for Nigel. Willow was on her knees pawing through the wet leaves. She found the gun at Stella’s feet and sat up and looked at it.

  “Stella, look out!” Lacey screamed. She ran toward them carrying Brooke’s gun. Willow fired wildly at her. Lacey ducked and slid in the snow and nearly fell down. Stella reached down for Willow’s gun, but Willow grabbed Stella’s legs and lifted her up over the railing and pushed. Stella disappeared over the wall. Her cries died away into the roar of the river.

  “No!” Lacey screamed.

  “You’re next.” Willow laughed and waved her gun at the place where Stella disappeared. “I have to kill you too. You have to go over the wall.”

  You don’t shoot to kill. You just shoot to stop. Vic’s words came back to Lacey. With tears running down her face, she swung the revolver into her shooting stance with both hands and steadied her grip.

  “What? You’re going to shoot me?” Willow taunted her. “I don’t think so. You’re just a silly pretty girl, a weakling. You don’t know how to do this. I do.” Her laughter carried on the wind between thunderclaps. She pointed the black pistol at Lacey.

  Lacey aligned her gunsights on the center of Willow’s torso, just as if she were aiming at a silhouette target at the range. She held her breath and squeezed the trigger. The sharp crack of the .357 was lost in the thunder.

  Willow fell.

  Chapter 38

  Blood turned the snow to red slush beneath Willow’s body. Lightning flashed again, farther away this time. The thunder rumbled
down the river and headed for Washington. The snow was falling harder now, but the wind was dying down.

  Willow’s gun had flown from her hand when she fell. She groaned and tried to roll over, clawing with both hands for the gun in the snow. Brooke sprinted to her and kicked Willow’s gun far away from her searching hands. The woman on the ground screamed in pain, her white blond hair streaked with mud and leaves. Brooke stood guard over her.

  “I’ll kill you, you filthy hags!” Willow screeched. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you both!”

  “No, you won’t,” Brooke said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  Lacey sprang to the railing and peered over the rock wall where Stella had disappeared. “Oh, God. Stella.” Tears blurred her vision. Vic was suddenly there beside her, his arms wrapped around her.

  “You did good, darling. I saw it all. I’m so damn relieved you’re alive.”

  “I don’t know, Vic. . . .” Lacey looked past his shoulder to see Stella lying among the rocks below the bluff, wedged between the boulders among a tangle of tree branches and leaves. She was moving. She was alive.

  Griffin ran up to the wall puffing furiously and vaulted right over it, crying, “Stella!” He grabbed at the railing with one arm and searched for a foothold on the other side. He didn’t find one and he fell, scrambling, sliding, and banging down the rocks. Lacey watched him and flinched with each thump. He finally fell the last dozen feet to the tangled branches, not far from Stella. He crawled to her and brushed blood and damp hair from her forehead.

  “Stella my love, are you all right?”

  “I am freezing my damn ass off, Nigel baby, and I think there’s something wrong with my ankle. It’s like totally broken. Will you please get me the hell out of here, and by the way I love you!”

  Oh yeah, that’s our Stella. She’ll be all right. I hope.

  Nigel’s clipped voice came up from below. “I say up there! How about a hand? Or a rope?”

  “Wait till the rescuers get here, Griffin!” Lacey hollered down to them over the roar of the water. “Don’t move her! Just put your jacket over her and keep her warm, I’m calling nine-one-one right now!”