She screamed at the top of her voice, Ty’s name, three times before Pellett could reach her. It is quite likely that he intended only to cover her mouth, to keep her silent; but her screams changed everything. She lunged to seize the wrist of the hand that held the knife as she heard the splintering crash made by Ty’s shoulder when he hurled himself against the door. Pellett jerked back and she missed. She lunged again, missed again, and sprawled on the floor. She got to her knees, and saw that in fact she was not being assaulted at alclass="underline" Pellett was five paces away, in the direction of the door, crouched behind the forequarters of the yearling elk. For five seconds she stayed there on her hands and knees, staring like a fool. Then two things happened at once: Ty’s fifth attack on the door burst it open, and she realized what Pellett was crouching there for; and she screamed Ty’s name again to warn him, but too late. As Ty rushed across, Pellett leaped from his ambush and struck; Ty swerved; Pellett’s momentum toppled him to the floor; Delia screamed again; Pellett regained his feet before Ty could reach him, and backed off, brandishing the knife, with Ty following him, now cautious but resolute; Delia rushed to grab Ty’s arm, pulling at him; he commanded her roughly, without looking at her, “Let go, get behind something, let go!” He shook her off. “Drop it, Pellett. What’s the use? Drop—”
Pellett, from a crouch eight feet away, came through the air at him like a mountain cat. But his muscles were old. With his left hand, Ty parried the knife; with his right, he swung, and Pellett went down, stretched out on the floor, the knife falling from his hand and sliding almost to Delia’s feet. Ty picked it up and tossed it to a corner of the room. She shuddered, a convulsion shaking her from head to foot. As he put out a hand for her there was the sound, at the open door, of rushing footsteps.
It seemed adequate for an army, but there were only three who entered: Chief of Police Frank Phelan, a cop in uniform, and the horticulturist who had shouted to Delia that she would break her neck. They came in on the run, put on the brakes and gawked. Pellett, on the floor, did not move.
“What the hell.” Phelan gazed at Delia. “By God, again! You look him over, Pete, and I’ll—”
“You’ll eat your tongue and choke on it!” Ty Dillon was trembling with fury. “You goddamn fools! There’s your murderer! Do you think you can handle him? Do you want him delivered f.o.b. your goddamn jail? You ought to be cocky, by God, you ought to be cocky, leaving a girl to do it for you! She might have been killed! She damn near was killed! He was after her with a knife—”
“No, Ty, no—”
“Shut up! You can shut me up the rest of my life, but this once is my turn! You’re a fine bunch of lousy poops! I’m taking her home, and try to stop me, and by God, you let her alone! I’m her lawyer and her husband and you let her alone! When you want it explained to you, come to me!”
With an arm around her, he took her away. It was obvious that anybody who tried to stop him would have been murdered, so no one tried.