Lies Like Poison

by Chelsea Pitcher

  The answer was a resounding yes.

  Three hours later, Jack felt more like himself than he had in years. No, scratch that. Jack felt more like himself than he ever had, and it wasn’t just the hair. It wasn’t just the white collared shirt and jeans, gifted from Raven and topped with the long green jacket that made Jack feel like a conqueror of giants. It was the power he felt as he slipped out of Andrew Kane’s back door. It was the feeling of taking control of his life without resorting to poison, or panic, or pain.

  They were going to win this. Jack knew it definitively as Andrew’s truck turned into the driveway. Everything was quiet, the deep breath before the scream. The silence before the confession. Lily had set up a camera in the kitchen, where she was planning to meet her father. But unlike the last time, when she’d greeted her mother with belladonna, she came bearing an elegant rose.

  No poison.

  Just thorns.

  That was Lily, Jack thought, as he took up his post in the backyard. Raven was hiding in the living room closet. After Andrew stepped into the house and strode toward the kitchen, Raven would slip out of the closet and block the front door. Jack would block the back.

  Then Lily would go in for the kill.

  When the front door opened, Jack’s heart started to thump. It felt too heavy in his chest. Slamming and slamming like the footfalls of a giant. He told himself to breathe, to trust Lily, because she could play innocent better than any of them.

  Andrew Kane strode across the living room. Within seconds, he’d passed through the entryway to the kitchen. All the lights were out in the house, and when he flipped the switch in the kitchen, nothing happened.

  Lily had removed the bulb.

  “The light went out,” Lily said, as her father flipped the switch again. There was a window over the sink, cracked just enough, and Jack could hear the conversation perfectly. “I didn’t know where you kept the bulbs, so I figured I’d wait until you got home.”

  He turned to her, slowly. Could he tell something was wrong? She was sitting at the kitchen table at a quarter after four, caressing the petals of a rose. That rose was pink. She’d stolen it from the gardens in the center of town, because white roses reminded her of her mother, and red ones reminded Raven of his.

  They lived in a town of roses and ghosts.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Andrew said, reaching across the table to take her hand. His fingers came close to the thorns of the rose, but no skin was broken in that moment. No blood was spilled. “After the trial is over, and the dust settles, how would you feel about getting a fresh start somewhere else? I have a lead on a job in Wood Haven—”

  “You want us to move?”

  He nodded, his eyes narrowing against the darkness. The sun would rise in two hours’ time, and they needed that rose to scratch him before the world was filled with light. It was the only way to ensure that the neighbors didn’t see what they were doing.

  When Lily tilted her palm upward, Jack held his breath. Any second now. The slightest movement, and the thorns would kiss Andrew Kane’s skin.

  “Lil, you don’t want to stay in town,” her dad told her, his voice soft in the dark room. “Everywhere you look, you’ll see reminders of your mom.”

  “You want us to run.” This time it wasn’t a question. Lily’s voice was hard, and her gaze was too. Jack could see her through the opening in the window. “You sounded so believable, the day the police came knocking at our door. I honestly thought you were covering for me.”

  “I…” Andrew ran his hands through his messy brown hair, and Jack saw that only half of his face had been shaved. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping since the murder. Unfortunately, things were only going to get worse from here. Sleeping in a quiet house might’ve been difficult, but that was nothing compared to curling up on a cot in a cramped cell.

  “It’s so funny, isn’t it?” Lily pressed on when her father didn’t speak. “Jack gave a false alibi for Belle. Dr. Holloway gave a false alibi for Jack. Everyone’s been lying for everyone, but only because we’re innocent. You lied to cover your own ass.”

  Lily’s dad reached for her, but she yanked her hand away at the last second, and then there was only the rose. Pale pink petals. Sharp curving thorns. Andrew’s hand wrapped around it, and he pulled back, cursing.

  Lily leapt from the table. Without a single word, she hurried to the hall closet and pulled out some Band-Aids. On the way back to the table, she grabbed a rag from the counter and handed it over. “Clean the wound,” she instructed, as if she were the parent and he were the child.

  So thoughtful. So nurturing.

  Andrew did as she requested without a moment’s pause. Then Lily was plucking the rag from his hand, passing him the Band-Aids. As he wrapped one around his wounded finger, Lily strode to the window over the sink and inched the screen open. She handed the rag to Jack.

  Andrew might’ve missed the entire thing. He would have missed it, if Jack hadn’t spoken from the other side of the window, saying, “Thanks, Lily. I’ll take this to the police. Once they match it with the evidence they found at the scene of the crime, they’ll make their arrest.”

  This part was a bluff. The police had found no physical evidence at the scene of Evelyn’s murder. No fingerprints, except Evelyn’s and Dr. Holloway’s. But Andrew could’ve easily left a strand of hair on the kitchen table, and he wouldn’t know that he hadn’t until it was too late.

  Jack waited, breath held.

  Lily waited too.

  Andrew’s brow furrowed at the sight of the figure standing on the other side of the window, dressed in a long green jacket and holding a bloody rag. “What’s going on, Lil?” he asked his daughter, rubbing at his eyes. “Who is that?”

  He didn’t sound scared. Jack couldn’t make sense of it. But Lily, bless her hardened little heart, didn’t falter at her father’s confusion. She simply returned to the table, picking up the rose. “You thought you could kill a person and no one would suspect you, because you left no evidence at the scene of the crime. But all it takes is a single fingerprint or a few drops of blood.”

  Andrew pushed away from the table. He kept sliding his jaw back and forth, as if he were chewing on a particularly tough piece of steak. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You weren’t there.”

  “But you were,” a voice said at his back. Andrew spun to find Raven standing in the entryway to the kitchen. “I got there after she was dead. Lily was with Belle, and Jack was home the whole time. That only leaves you.”

  Andrew swallowed, darting a glance at the back door. “I never meant to hurt anyone. The gun was supposed to be loaded with blanks. By the time I realized she’d put real bullets—”

  “What gun?” Jack asked, opening the back door. Andrew’s head whipped toward him, then back to Lily. Then to Raven.

  “The gun. None of it was supposed to be real! I was only trying to scare her, and once we had the pills, we could sell them and pay off Evelyn’s debt. No one was supposed to get hurt, but she tried to wrestle the gun away from me. She scratched me, and the gun went off. It was so loud.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lily demanded, her cheeks drained of color. Dawn was still two hours away, and yet Jack could see everything in the kitchen. The cracked countertops. The rusty faucet that dripped every few seconds. And the unhinged man stumbling toward Lily, his legs trembling beneath him.

  “Your mom said we could be a family. She said I had to prove that I could look after you, and if I did this one thing, she’d know that she could rely on me. The Holloways were Rose Hollow old money. Their ancestors had helped found the town. If I cleaned out their pharmacy, I’d have enough money to take care of you, and she’d let me see you again. She’d let me be your dad.”

  The world swayed at Jack’s feet, and he told himself that everything was not sliding into place. Andrew had fled the scene of Evelyn’s murder. He had not been at the pharmacy the day Arianna had been shot. He had not carried the gun that
killed her.

  “No.” It was Lily who spoke the word, her eyes widened in shock. “No, you aren’t making any sense. You followed me to Raven’s house the night of Mom’s murder. You heard us talking in the kitchen.”

  “That isn’t what happened.” Andrew reached Lily’s side, and in spite of everything, he took her face in his hands. In spite of everything, she let him. In the seconds that followed, Raven crept up behind Lily, guiding the shears from her purse. There was no time to stop it. Jack was disoriented, and Lily was mesmerized, staring into her father’s eyes for what could be the last time.

  Men could fall so easily. Jack knew it as Raven passed Lily, nearing Andrew Kane’s back. When Raven lifted the shears, Jack felt all the breath rush out of his lungs, and out of the room.

  “You didn’t just kill Lily’s mom,” Raven whispered, bringing a blade to Andrew’s throat. “You killed mine.”

  22

  Snow White

  It was the first snowfall of the season. Flurries drifted down from the sky, landing on Raven’s lashes. He loved the snow. Loved the cold. He loved getting bundled up in sweaters and spinning in circles in the school parking lot as the blue sky turned black.

  It was four forty-five. He’d just finished his violin lesson, and he was supposed to meet his mother at the pharmacy on the north side of town. This time of year, she’d be brewing hot cider for her customers, and when he burst through the door, teeth chattering and limbs shaking, that cider would warm him up.

  If it didn’t, she’d pull him into a hug.

  Raven hurried across the parking lot of Rose Hollow Middle School. His black Schwinn was locked up on the rack by the sidewalk, and he struggled to unlock it with gloved hands. He’d seen Belle come to school with a pair of black lace-up glovelets the other day, and he thought he might mimic her and take a pair of scissors to the fingers on his gloves. That would be practical, wouldn’t it?

  Finally, the bike came unlocked. Raven swung his leg over the seat, pushing off the ground. This time of year it was dangerous to race down the road, and his heart hammered as he narrowly missed a patch of ice on Main Street. He was nearing the rose gardens in the center of town. There was something about the thorny bushes, stark and lovely against the backdrop of snow, that made him want to climb off his bike and wander through the empty rows. Lately, his home life had become hectic. School had become hectic too, the classrooms overflowing with students.

  In the rose gardens, the entire world slowed to a stop.

  Raven slid off his bike, wandering in the quiet. It didn’t take long for his heartbeat to calm. His ragged breathing grew even, and the tension in his shoulders gave way. There in the cold, quiet darkness, he felt his entire being exhale for the first time in months.

  Raven breathed in, then out. He felt peaceful. Calm. He didn’t know that a man was nearing his mother’s pharmacy, boots trailing snow and breath heavy against the quiet. He didn’t hear the bell chime above the pharmacy door. By the time he climbed back onto his bike, the man had revealed a gun in his jacket, the fat black barrel pointed at Arianna Holloway. By the time the pharmacy was in sight, the shot was already ringing out.

  The silence was obliterated. In the minutes that followed, Raven told himself all manner of stories about engines backfiring and fireworks being set off in the dead of winter. Anything but a gunshot in his mother’s pharmacy. Anything but a wound in his mother’s chest.

  Nothing was supposed to lodge itself there. Nothing except her fierce, beautiful heart. This was the woman who’d taught him to ride a bike, and nestled roses in his hair. This was the woman who’d chased him around the kitchen with a wooden spoon, pretending it was a wand. As he sped through the parking lot, he could see her through the glass door of the pharmacy. She was wearing a long white jacket, but something was staining it.

  Raven skidded to a stop at the door. But the latch had a habit of sticking and his stupid, bulky gloves couldn’t yank it open. The door was stuck. Raven was stuck, staring at his dark-haired, bright-eyed mother on the other side of the glass as she crumpled to her knees.

  No. He would not watch her die. He had a phone in his pocket, and after he pulled it out, he would dial 911. Medics would arrive on the scene. They would save her, and everything would be fine.

  Raven’s hand slid into the pocket of his jeans. Miraculously, the phone came out easily, and he realized his glove had fallen into the snow. Good riddance to it. He would never wear those stupid gloves again, because they had kept him from getting to her, and she needed him. An operator came on the line. Raven mumbled something about an emergency and managed to give the pharmacy’s address. After that, the phone fell into the snow. First the glove, then the phone.

  Nothing else would fall. Raven swore it to the heavens, and he swore it to his mom, and then he jerked open the door. A body pushed past him. He hadn’t even seen the tall, lanky man in the ski mask, because he must’ve been hiding between the rows of medication. He must’ve realized he was trapped, the minute Raven arrived outside the door, and he must’ve been skulking through the pharmacy like a half-starved dog.

  “I’m sorry,” the man choked out, tossing a glance in Raven’s direction. His voice was low and scratchy, as if someone had wrapped their fingers around his throat. Or maybe he’d been crying. Raven didn’t know. None of this made sense, because none of this was possible.

  His mother was crawling toward the pharmacy door. She must’ve been trying to get to her son, and Raven reached for her, the sound of footsteps retreating at his back. “The ambulance is coming,” he promised, gathering her into his arms. “Just give it a couple of minutes, okay, Mom? Stay with me.”

  The man with the gun had disappeared. Even his footsteps faded as sirens rang out in the distance, the snow falling harder now. Raven had always loved the snow. He’d always loved the cold. Now he desperately longed for the warmth of his mother’s embrace, which he feared he’d never feel again.

  The life was bleeding out of her.

  He could feel it as she clung to him. He could see it, as the snow darkened beneath her body. Farther off, in the direction where the man had been, there were three crimson drops in the snow.

  But they weren’t hers.

  23

  Ensnaring the Huntsman

  Slitting a throat came easily. All you needed was a single rusty blade. Jack watched his oldest friend bring the shears to Andrew Kane’s neck, and for a moment, all the air leached out of the room.

  No one was breathing.

  An instant later, Andrew gasped, and Jack gasped too. Lily’s hands flew to her mouth. Only Raven seemed perfectly calm as he tightened his grip on the man who’d murdered his mom.

  “You shot her. You left her for dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew choked out, but it wasn’t enough to sway the boy standing behind him. It was far too little and far too late. Raven’s mother was dead, and this man could’ve stopped it.

  He could’ve admitted to it.

  But he hadn’t. And now a blade dug into his skin, drawing blood. “Raven, stop,” Jack began, but Raven cut him off.

  “You don’t get to say that. You, of all people, should understand—”

  “You’re right.” Jack eyed the distance between them. The table. The chairs. “I almost killed someone, and I’m so glad that I didn’t. I know what it would’ve cost me.”

  “I have nothing to lose.”

  Those words, damn. They were shards of glass sliding into skin. They were slivers making a home in soft fingers, and Jack wondered if he’d ever get rid of the sting. “Are you sure about that?” he asked Raven.

  Raven looked up for a moment. Their eyes met, and there was a charge between them. Something intangible reaching across the air. “I can’t let him go after what he did. I can’t let him live.”

  “It was an accident,” Lily stammered, her gaze glued to her father’s throat. A thin trail of red was nearing his collarbone. But when she stepped toward him, Raven shook his head, an
d Lily froze. “The gun was supposed to be loaded—”

  “With blanks. Yeah, that’s what he claims,” Raven snapped, his voice cold and clipped. He’d never sounded like this before. Not after his mother had died in the snow. Not after he’d climbed into a coffin and pretended to be dead.

  “Raven, it’s over,” Jack insisted. “Evelyn must’ve tricked Andrew into killing your mom so she could marry your dad. Now she’s dead too, and killing him won’t make any difference.”

  “It will make a difference.” Raven’s breathing was shallow, his dark curls heavy with sweat. “He doesn’t deserve to live. He killed them both.”

  “No,” Andrew sputtered, his legs buckling beneath him. “I didn’t kill—”

  “When someone hands you a gun, you check it for bullets,” Raven spat. “You don’t hold it to someone’s chest and then feel sorry for yourself when it goes off. You don’t get to pretend you’re innocent.”

  “You’re right.” Jack was eight feet away from him. A universe unfolded between them. “Andrew killed two people, not because he was forced into it, but because he made those choices. Lily brought the belladonna to her mother’s house. I hurt somebody because I didn’t know how else to stop him. All of us are guilty, Raven.” A beat, as Jack held his warm, brown gaze. “Except you.”

  “Stop.”

  “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever known.” Jack took a single step, then two. “The best person.”

  “And what has kindness ever done for me?” His face contorted, tears welling in his eyes. “My mom bled out in my arms. Nobody even tried to find her killer, and instead of being there for me, my dad threw me away. Because I was kind. Because I was weak.”