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Treadwell, NY—three hours before Billy’s murder
After Billy left, Winona decided it was time to come clean and make Ron aware of just how much was at stake if Billy were allowed to go unchecked.
“He knows everything,” she said.
Ron listened in disbelief while she detailed all the events that had led up to her meeting him in the first place, including her relationship with her father and how they’d “arranged” for Miss Hattie to name his church as beneficiary of her insurance policy. He shook his head and cried, “No! No!” as she confessed to planting the snake in Miss Hattie’s garden, as well as how she’d used other snakes to kill members in their own congregation at stops along the way to Treadwell. She even told him about the money from the insurance policies—but not the full amounts of their windfalls.
When she finished, she held her breath for Ron’s reaction.
“What do you think he’ll do?” he asked.
Winona thought she detected a note of desperation in his voice.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since Dad and I left him and Mom—when I was just a kid. He says he still has the letter I sent him, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”
“What letter?”
“I wrote him a letter not too long after Dad and I hit the road. I was young and stupid. I wanted to rub his nose in it to let him know how much smarter we were than Mom and him. I told him about Miss Hattie.”
“Then he probably knows about the others, too.” It was a question rather than a statement.
“He might,” said Winona. “He might not. But, even if he doesn’t know, he might suspect. He’s no dummy. It wouldn’t take long for him to put two and two together.”
“But what if we were married?” asked Ron. He let the implication of his words hang in the air.
“So what if we were?”
“Then they couldn’t make us testify against one another.”
Winona hesitated a second before replying.
“There you go with that marriage stuff again,” she said. “Do you really want it that bad?”
“No,” said Ron. “Well, yes. I mean, it would make sense, wouldn’t it?—especially now.”
Winona considered the idea. He was right after all. If Billy ever spilled the beans, it would be his word against theirs. Just imagine how ludicrous it would sound: A down-and-out drug dealer’s word against the word of a preacher—and especially his wife.
“Let’s sleep on it,” she said. “I doubt he’s going to tell anyone tonight, right?”
“Yeah,” replied Ron. “I guess not.”
“Good. Then I think I’ll take a ride over to Oneonta and take in a movie,” said Winona. “I need some time to think about this—alone. We need some kind of a plan.”
“Don’t you want some company?”
“No,” said Winona. “I’d rather be alone. You just stay here and get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll figure out what we need to do. Okay?”
“I guess,” sighed Ron. “If that’s what you think we ought to do.”
“It is,” replied Winona. “And don’t wait up. I’ll probably grab something to eat when the movie lets out.” She grabbed a raincoat from the coat rack and gave Ron a hug. “I better get going.”
As she started for the door, he grabbed her by the arm. “Wait a minute. I’ll get my jacket and walk you to the truck.”
It was raining heavily, and Winona quickly unlocked the door of the red Ford and got inside, cracking the window just wide enough to be able to see Ron’s face through the opening.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I sure hope so.”
“It will be. Trust me.”
Ron hurried back inside the church, and Winona headed out into the night—to God only knew where.