But my temper was up, and I had no intention of letting him see me cower, so in spite of the throbbing waves of pain in my shoulder, I took a step forward, too, lifted my chin, and glared right back at him. I didn’t really think he’d try to strike me, but if he tried, in spite of the shoulder and the eight-inch difference in our heights, I was betting I’d come out on top. Working as a blacksmith had made me a lot stronger than most women, and I still hadn’t completely forgotten what I’d learned in several years of martial arts training. Lightfoot, on the other hand, had the weedy, hollow-chested, pasty look of someone who never bothered to exercise and was thin only because he didn’t really care about food.

And just now he looked a little startled, as if not used to people standing up to him.

“Hmph!” he said. Then he turned and stalked down the hall. I watched him barge into Riddick Hedges’s office. Then I turned and saw that everyone in the foyer was staring my way in stunned amazement. Or maybe in accusation—had I just spoiled everyone’s holiday mood?

“I can’t wait to find out,” I said. “Which one of us gets the title role in How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

Not much of a joke, but it broke the tension. People laughed far more than it deserved, and a few even applauded.

Minerva Burke appeared at my side.

“You go, girl,” she said. “I think he’ll get the part, but you deserve a medal. Not many people stand up to old Bigfoot.”

“Probably just as well, since that means he doesn’t dislocate that many people’s shoulders.” I was trying to move my arm—fortunately, the left arm—and feeling a little faint from the resulting waves of pain.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Minerva said.

I was fumbling in my pocket for my cell phone.

“I’m calling Dad,” I said.

Chapter 9

I pulled out my cell phone, but I didn’t want to move my left arm, and trying to hold the cell phone and dial it with my one good hand wasn’t working too well.

“Here,” Minerva said, taking it out of my fingers. “Let me do that. Let’s get you sitting down someplace. Ronnie! Virgil! Come help Ms. Meg!”

I had to admit, it was nice to be half carried into my temporary office and sit back with my eyes closed while Minerva called Dad and ordered him to come over and see to me.

Next door we could hear occasional bellows from Lightfoot, interspersed with the nasal whine of Riddick’s voice.