I listened in horror. This woman actually believed I was capable of murder. I wanted to stop her. To tell her to shut up. But I couldn’t speak. My lips were pressed tight together, and my legs were trembling slightly.
This can’t be happening.
“You follow her back to her house on Friday night after the game. Lure her into the woods where you get into another argument. Things get heated and you lose control. You burn her, but Tori fights back and manages to pull your necklace from your neck. Scared, you run off, leaving her there in the woods to die.”
“No,” I said. My voice came out weak and dry. “I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“But you did have an argument with Tori Fairchild?”
“In the lunchroom that day, yes. But I didn’t follow her on Friday night,” I said. “And you’re wrong about the necklace. I lost it at the game on Friday. Ask Ella Mae or any of the other girls. I went back to look for it after the game, but I couldn’t find it.”
“So you admit that the necklace Tori has clutched in her hands is yours?”
Shit. Am I messing up here? I felt trapped.
“Are you allowed to question me without a lawyer? Or at least legal guardian. I’m still a minor,” I said, throwing my chin up and folding my arms across my chest. I was trying to seem tough, but think I ended up looking more like a scared kid.
“Where do you think you are? Atlanta?” The sheriff laughed and it sent chills down my spine. “I can do whatever I want with you and no one will ever believe I did anything wrong. You don’t exactly have a track record for telling the truth and being a good girl.”
I clutched the sleeve of my shirt into a tight fist, trying not to panic. She was right, though. No one would believe me. No one ever believed me.
The Sheriff pulled out a yellow sticky note and placed it on the table. It was the secretary’s note from this morning with my name and a description of the necklace. “It’s alright, you don’t have to answer that question anyway. We know the necklace is yours. We have witnesses that saw you wearing it. Mrs. King for one. Agnes, your friend at Shadowford. And there’s a notebook in your bedroom with a drawing of a woman wearing it. Your mother, I’m guessing.”
“You’ve been going through my things?” I felt betrayed. Helpless.
“Tell me what really happened on Friday night,” she said.
I knew I had to tell her about sneaking out and seeing Tori with the boy on the field, but someone knocked on the door before I had the chance.
“Sheriff?” Ellis poked his head just inside the door.
A flash of anger crossed the Sheriff’s face. “What?”
“The mayor wants to see you real quick. She says it’s important.”
Sheriff Hollingsworth’s eyes widened. She straightened her jacket and walked to the open door. Almost as an afterthought, she turned back to me. “Don’t move.”
The door closed behind her and I let out a huge breath. Hot tears threatened my eyes, and I slouched down low in my chair. If they charged me with Tori’s murder, they would send me someplace much worse than juvenile detention. I shuddered.
I looked up as the door opened once more. An Asian woman smiled at me from the doorway. She had the most beautiful straight black hair that fell below her shoulders, and her eyes were like black glass. “Harper, I’m Mayor Chen.”
Lark’s mother. I remembered Agnes telling me she was the mayor’s daughter. I had wrongly assumed the mayor was a man.
“I just have a couple of questions for you, if that’s okay?” Her voice was soft and smooth. Comforting.
I nodded, relaxing slightly.
“Where did you get the sapphire pendant?”
“It was my mother’s,” I said.
“But you were adopted, correct?”
I nodded. “As a baby. But my adoptive parents, they gave me the necklace when I turned eight. That’s when they first told me that I was adopted. They said my mother’s only request was that they made sure I got that necklace.”
Mayor Chen seemed to think this over for a moment, then turned back to me. “Do you know anything else about your real mother?”
Why was she asking me about my mother? And the necklace? What did any of this have to do with Tori’s death? I shook my head slightly. “I don’t know much,” I said.
“But you’ve seen her before?”
“Not really. I mean, I accidentally saw a picture of her that my adoptive parents kept in a file in their desk.”
“And that’s how you knew to draw that picture we found in your notebook? Of her wearing the necklace?”
I nodded again.
“Do you have any idea how Tori Fairchild would have gotten hold of your necklace?”
“No, that’s what I was trying to tell the sheriff. I lost that necklace Friday night at the game. I always wear it, everyday. But when I was getting in the van to come home that night, it was gone. It had to have fallen off somewhere at the stadium. Anyone could have picked it up.”
Mayor Chen’s eyes locked onto mine, and I searched them, hoping to see some sign that she believed me. On the table, the folder fluttered closed. Mayor Chen hadn’t even moved her hand. I stared down at the closed folder, then back up at her ebony eyes.
“Miss Madison, thank you for your cooperation today,” she said. “You are free to go.”
Is That You?
Ellis drove me home in his squad car. This time, I got to ride up front.
“How you hangin’ in there?” he asked. “Seems like they kinda gave you a rough time in there.”
I sank deeper in my seat. “I guess I’m alright.” I didn’t really want to talk about it with this guy.
“They can be kind of rough on me too,” he said.
I figured he was just trying to make me feel better, but when I looked over at him, I could see honesty in his face. The older man had been kind of mean to him when he dropped those pencils. Maybe he knew what it felt like to never have anyone take you seriously.
“What’s with the sheriff?” I asked.
“What do ya mean?”
“Small town like this. I guess I wasn’t expecting a pretty petite lady to be the boss around here. It was sorta unexpected.”
“Oh,” he said with a shrug. “I guess I never really thought about it that much. Sheriff Hollingsworth might be small, but she’s tough. Real tough. And smart too.”
“It’s just that in the movies and stuff, you always see towns like this with old white guys in charge. The good ol’ boys. But here, I don’t know. This town is very… progressive. Black lady sheriff. Asian woman mayor. Lots of minority women in charge. All very beautiful.” I don’t know why I was talking to Ellis about these things. It was more that I was just working out my own questions and he just happened to be there. But now that I did take a moment to think about it, having all these women in power did seem a little unusual.
Mayor Chen is like me.
The realization had come to me the second she closed that folder, but I didn’t want to admit it. What did that even mean? She was like me. So what? Wasn’t that a good thing? But somehow it didn’t feel good. It felt dangerous.
Ellis looked confused. His eyebrows were drawn together and his lips were turned down in a concentrated frown. “I never really considered it,” he mumbled.
I started to think about who else might be powerful in this town. There was old Mrs. Shadowford, but she didn’t seem to hold much sway in the political arena. Still, she was obviously wealthy and owned a lot of property. Her teacup had rattled when she got angry. I shivered.
Principal Tate at the high school was a woman. Drake’s sister owned the most popular shop in town. If I asked around, I wonder how many more women I could find in high places.
Officer Ellis pulled down the drive toward Shadowford and my palms grew sweaty. I had no idea what to expect from Ella Mae and Mrs. Shadowford. Would they kick me out? Or were they going to be lenient since Mayor Chen excused me from the investigation?
The only thing I was sure of was that I needed to get to Jackson Hunt before he told anyone what he saw the night that Tori died. If anyone found out I had left the house around midnight, I would be tossed right back into the Sheriff’s office, and this time, things might not turn out so well.
“Can you drop me off here at the end of the driveway?” I asked.
Officer Ellis slowed to a halt and considered my question. “No can do,” he said. “I mean, the sheriff told me to make sure you got home safely. I don’t think it’s such a good idea for me to drop you off back here. It’s getting pretty dark out there.”
“Please,” I said, begging. “Do you know how embarrassing it will be to have a squad car drop me off in front of the house? All the girls will see me, and everyone will make a big fuss out of it. But if you drop me off here, I can sneak around back and talk to Mrs. Shadowford directly, without having to try to explain to the other girls what happened today. I promise, I’ll go straight inside.”
I could tell he was uncertain about what to do, but as I suspected, he was easily swayed. Not the brightest crayon in the box. “Alright, but I’m gonna sit right here at the edge of the driveway and make sure you get around the back of the house okay.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, pulling off my seat-belt and bolting from the car before he could change his mind. I practically ran all the way down the driveway, sticking close to the edge of the treeline so that no one inside could see me. Hopefully the police car was far enough down the drive that no one had seen his lights.
When I made it to the edge of the house, I turned and waved to Officer Ellis. He flicked his lights at me once, then backed up and pulled off. As fast as I could, I sprinted to the overgrown garden, avoiding the automatic light over the barn. The weeds were so high, I had to walk slowly and carefully, but at least the shadows kept me hidden from view. In a few minutes, I came through the other side and found myself near the back of the Hunt’s house.
A light in one of the back rooms shone through the darkness and I tiptoed my way toward the window. Ella Mae was inside at her sewing machine, a TV on across the room. I backed away slowly, careful not to trip over anything, then continued on along the back of the one story house. Two windows were dark, then at the end, a dull amber glow.
Jackson sat in his room, leaning over his desk. He was shirtless, wearing only his tattered jeans. My stomach fluttered. His bare, tan back was smooth and muscular. I hesitated for a moment, noticing a long, red scar across his side. It was strangely beautiful and brought a sudden sadness to my heart.
I pulled myself together and knocked on the glass.
Jackson’s head snapped up and he squinted toward me. I waved and motioned for him to open it so we could talk.
“Harper, is that you?”
“Yes,” I whispered through the screen. “No one knows I’m home yet. I really need to talk to you, can you come outside?”
He glanced toward his work at the desk and a strange look crossed his face. Disappointment?
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something important, but this is really serious.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s not that. It’s just… hang on.”
He pulled the window up as far as it would go, then unlatched the screen from its hooks. “Grab this,” he said.
I helped him take the screen off of the window, then took his hand as he pulled me into his room. I stumbled slightly as I stood up, leaning against his bare chest for support. My knees went weak and I suddenly felt extra aware of what I must look like. My hair was wild from running and my shoes were slightly muddy from the garden. I ran a hand through my hair and begged my heart to stop racing.
“Are you okay?” Jackson let go of my hand, but didn’t move away. I could smell his soap, woodsy and natural. The scar on his side wrapped around the front of his body. I wondered what in the world happened to have caused such an ugly scar. Warmth radiated from his bare skin, and I wanted to move closer. I wanted to run my hand along the mark.
Instead, I took a step back. “Yeah. I’m sure you heard what happened, right?”
He nodded. “It’s a small town. Word travels fast around here.”
“I figured.” I stepped around him and sat down on his bed, feeling light headed and unsure on my feet. “It was weird. They brought me in for questioning, railed on me, practically accused me of murdering Tori.”
“Then what?”
“Then they just let me go. The mayor came in and asked me all these questions about my necklace, then told me I was free to go.”
“Your necklace?” He sat down in his desk chair, then rolled it over near me.
“It’s this sapphire pendant I always wear. It was my mother’s. And it’s the reason I was out that night you saw me in the barn. The night Tori died,” I said. “I lost it at the game, so I snuck out of my room to go look for it at the stadium.”
“Why did they want to know about that?”
I told him all about the origins of the necklace and exactly what the police had told me about Tori’s death. Jackson listened with an intense concentration.
“I came to you before I went back to the house, because I didn’t know when I’d have another chance to talk to you. I have no idea if they’re going to let me stay here or send me away to another place. It’s all up in the air.” I looked up into his eyes. “You can’t tell anyone you saw me that night. If they find out, they’ll arrest me. But I didn’t kill her. I swear to God, I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He took my hand in his. “I told you your secret is safe with me, remember?”
I let out a nervous sigh. “Thank you.”
Silence filled the room and everything in my body focused in on that one spot of my hand where he was touching me.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said.
“How did you know Tori? I mean, I know you were in school together, but there was more to it than that, right?”
He tilted his head to the side, then sat back in his chair, pulling his hand away. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I saw you. My first night at Shadowford. You were out by the garden with her and you wouldn’t give her something she wanted. I thought you saw me there, in the window.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I thought I felt someone watching us, but I wasn’t sure.”
I waited for him to answer my question.
“I think there’s something you should see,” he said.
He turned to grab the notebook he’d been drawing in. He stared down at it for a moment, then turned it around to show me. There, drawn on the paper, was a pencil sketch of me, standing in a room full of flames.
This Town Isn’t Like Other Places
“I don’t understand.”
My hands trembled as I held the drawing.
“I can’t explain it exactly,” Jackson said. “Sometimes I see things. I don’t know when or where these images will come to me, and most of the time I don’t know what the images mean until…” his voice trailed off. He stood and began to pace the room.
I swallowed. “Until what?”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” He ran a hand through his hair. Normally, he wore it slightly spiked up in the front, but today it fell across his forehead and into his eyes, making him seem softer somehow.
The image was drawn on the plain white paper of the notebook. There was nothing special about it except the image itself. He had drawn it with a charcoal pencil and the level of detail was astonishing. At first glance, it looked only like a girl, me, standing in a room filled with flames. Look closer, though, and there was so much more.
A dark figure stood behind me in the shadows, a single lightning bolt moving across its face. And there, so consumed in flame I could hardly make it out, I saw the form of a demon. He was coming straight for me. There was something so familiar about the demon’s face. Part gargoyle, part human. Its presence in t
he picture made me feel creepy and unsettled to the point of almost feeling paralyzed.
“You have to tell me, Jackson.” My voice came out more demanding than I intended, but I had to know. “What does this picture mean?”
He stopped pacing, his back to me as he spoke again. “These drawings are of the future, Harper.” He turned and our eyes met. “Whatever I draw always comes true, and it usually happens within days. Maybe a week. Maybe two if we’re lucky.”
My heart stopped beating for a moment. My breath caught in my throat and I looked down at the page. Was this a picture of my own death?
“No.” I stood and slammed the paper against his chest. “This is ridiculous. No one can see the future. I was in a fire once when I was little. You must have heard your mother talking about it or something, so this is what came out when you sat down to draw. I am not going to die in fire. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not ever.”
Jackson took the notebook from me and flipped several pages back. “I know it’s hard to believe,” he said. “Here.”
He handed me the drawings and I gasped. I shook my head furiously. There, on the page, was a drawing of Tori Fairchild, still in her Demons uniform. Her body was burned and contorted, almost exactly in the same pose as the pictures I’d seen of her death. I turned it over on the bed and tried to control the growing nausea in my stomach.
“I’m sorry to have to show you that, Harper, but I’m afraid for you,” he said. “I’m not supposed to share stuff like this with anyone. I learned a long time ago that I can’t change the stuff in these drawings. I don’t even know why I told you. There’s just something about you, Harper. I wanted to, I don’t know, help you. I wanted to do something for once instead of just stand by and watch it happen.”
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