Gilt Hollow

by Lorie Langdon

  Willow slipped the key back into her bag. Perhaps there was a reason she’d held on to it after all. An insane idea began to form in her mind. “Mrs. M, have you seen the Martins here tonight?”

  “Bill and Caroline? Why, yes.” She pointed to a couple dressed like ketchup and mustard bottles out on the dance floor.

  Perfect.

  Willow stood. “I need to run. I just remembered I’m supposed to meet someone.”

  Mrs. M gave her a wave. “Have a good evening, dear.”

  Willow raced out the back doors and down the stairs into the garden. The Martins’ house was just on the other side of the trees and through the graveyard. If she hurried, she could be back before the headless horseman’s ride and sparkling cider toast.

  If she found evidence that identified the real killer, then no one else would get hurt, and Ashton could stay. She flew down the lantern-lit path and patted the bag at her waist. Maybe the key could unlock the past.

  CHAPTER Twenty-Nine

  Ashton leaned against a Grecian pillar, sipping witch’s brew and watching the ridiculousness on the dance floor. If his soul hadn’t been a jumble of barbed wire and molten rock, he might find it hilarious that a man in a pink bunny suit was dancing with a woman dressed as a lamp—fishnet stockings and all. Willow would have laughed and suggested they steal the idea for next year.

  His spine stiffened. Willow actually loved him. It was beyond his wildest hopes, but it felt like she’d carved his heart out with a spoon. Love wasn’t something he knew how to deal with. Hate, anger, indifference—all those he could process. Even so, he knew what he felt for her was real because it was transformative. It made him want to be the person she deserved. And that person was willing to give her up to save her life.

  Not in the mood for a party, Ashton hung back and enjoyed the relative anonymity of wearing a mask. He would stay as long as Willow was here, just to make sure she was safe. He drained his cup and tossed it in a wastebasket, then searched the room for a glimpse of the purple and silver sparkles of his enchanting fairy girl. In the middle of the dance floor, he spied Lisa with Reggie and Yolanda, but he didn’t see Willow. He scanned the nearby refreshment tables, and not two feet away stood a boy in a checkered suit with an enormous top hat perched on his dreads. Something inside Ashton snapped, and without another thought, he grabbed Isaiah around the shoulders and forced him into a dark hallway. “We need to talk.”

  “Dude, let go!”

  Isaiah and his crooked cop father had been at the root of every evil in Ashton’s life. Red clouding his vision, Ashton shoved Isaiah through an open doorway and slammed him up against the wall. His voice a low growl, he demanded, “You pushed Daniel because he caught you dealing. Didn’t you?” Isaiah struggled, and Ashton jabbed an elbow into his diaphragm. “Tell me now!”

  Isaiah let out a grunt, his eyes watering as he fought to breathe. He shook his head, his hat toppling to the floor.

  Ashton read the fear in his eyes. Good. “Did you lie to the police about it or did your daddy cover it up just like the drugs?”

  When he didn’t get an answer, Ashton pressed his forearm against Isaiah’s windpipe. “Spill, or I swear I won’t be responsible for what I do to you in the next two minutes.”

  “Okay.” He croaked. “I lied. I lied!”

  Ashton eased off Isaiah’s throat but kept him pinned against the wall. “About what?”

  “About … about you … pushing Daniel. I didn’t see it.”

  “Yeah, you lied. Because you pushed him!” Ashton gave Isaiah another slam, his head snapping back.

  “No, Ashton, I swear on my mother’s life, I didn’t do it. The Martins …” His throat convulsed. “The Martins gave their testimonies, and then my dad … my dad said it would go better for me if I just agreed with them.” The tension left his body as if he’d been waiting to say those words for a lifetime.

  “But Daniel saw you dealing drugs.”

  “Yes, but after Daniel talked to my dad, he agreed to keep quiet if I promised to stop. And I did. I never touched the stuff again.”

  Ashton searched Isaiah’s face. “But why would one of the Martins push him?”

  Fear flickered across Isaiah’s gaze, and this time it wasn’t because of Ashton. That had to change. Ashton moved back, kicked the door shut, and then unsheathed the sword at his hip. Isaiah froze as Ashton pressed the tip to his throat. The sword had been his grandfather’s, and although dull, it was very real. “I have nothing to lose by stabbing you. The chief already thinks I tried to kill Penelope. It’s only a matter of time before he has me thrown in prison.” Ashton twisted the sword, pressing the tip into Isaiah’s skin.

  “Stop! Please! I’ll tell you everything!”

  “You have sixty seconds.”

  Isaiah started talking in a rush. “I’ve been trying to help you guys. You and Willow. The threatening SnapMail messages were from me.”

  Ashton’s heart skipped and he jerked forward, clenching a fist.

  “No! I was trying to warn Willow. To protect her!”

  “Go on.”

  “I’ve been … been following her since you got back to town. Afraid something might happen to her. But I knew she would never trust me, so I stayed hidden.”

  The tension in Ashton’s spine released a fraction. “Why? Who did you think would hurt her?”

  “I wasn’t sure. But after I cleaned up my dad’s flyers and my locker got—”

  “Chief Kagawa put up the wanted posters of my face?” Ashton was floored.

  Isaiah nodded. “He paid some kids to do it. He’s terrified you’ll learn that he covered up our lies.”

  Ashton shook his head in shock. All this time he’d thought the chief believed him a danger to the public, when really he was just covering his own butt. “So you took down the flyers?”

  “Yes, I … I felt guilty. You’d already paid with four years of your life for something I was pretty sure you didn’t do.”

  “Pretty sure?”

  Isaiah met his gaze and then looked away. “I never actually saw who pushed Daniel. I just knew it wasn’t me.”

  “Funny, I knew it wasn’t me too, but that didn’t stop me from going to jail for it.”

  Isaiah ignored his comment. “Anyway, after my locker was vandalized, I started receiving threats. Notes tucked into my locker or my binder. I even found one in my bedroom.”

  “What did they say?”

  “That if I didn’t stop helping you, they would rat on me and my dad.”

  “Who were they from?” Ashton realized he’d lowered his sword to the carpet.

  Isaiah swallowed hard and stared into the dark shadows of the room. “I had my theories, but I couldn’t be sure until the day of your accident.” He gathered his dreads behind his head and then let them go and glanced at the door. He looked back at Ashton, his voice a whisper. “Brayden and Colin asked to borrow my car after school that day.”

  Ashton blinked, sprang forward, and raised his sword to Isaiah’s chest. “You better not be lying to me!”

  Isaiah raised his hands. “Dude, the Martins are crazy. I’m serious. I caught them sneaking out of the school wearing ski masks the night before my locker was trashed.”

  A vandalized locker didn’t mean anything except they were punks trying to get Ashton kicked out of school. “But why would one of them push Daniel? What else do you know about their trouble with the law?”

  “I don’t know anything for sure.” Isaiah was talking fast. “But both sets of parents met at Cory’s house to talk to Colin and Brayden about it. Cory’d been sent to his room and couldn’t hear it all.”

  “He had to have heard something. What was his theory?”

  “Colin had all kinds of money suddenly. He bought a dirt bike and a huge flatscreen for his room. Cory thought he might have stolen something valuable and then sold it.”

  “And where does Daniel fit in to all of this?”

  “Maybe he knew their secret, just like he kne
w mine.”

  Ashton thought for a minute. Daniel’s parents were crazy rich. They were the ones who sponsored the Sleepy Hollow Ball every year. “Maybe Brayden and Colin stole from Daniel’s family.”

  Ashton realized he’d lowered the sword again. He searched Isaiah’s face for several long seconds. The guy appeared calm, almost relieved, his gaze clear. Over the last few years, Ashton had learned to trust his gut, and his gut was telling him that Isaiah was telling the truth—finally. But he had to be sure. “How do I know any of what you’re saying is true?”

  “I guess you don’t. But I can tell you this. The day the Martins used my car to run you off the road, the moment I got it back, I went to find Willow.”

  Isaiah had brought Willow home that day in the rain. “Why? Why risk angering the Martins if you’re so scared of them?”

  A flush crept into Isaiah’s cheeks, turning his tawny skin a reddish pink. He liked her. Not that Ashton could blame him. “One more question. What do you think happened to Cory Martin?”

  Isaiah’s jaw flexed and something dark flitted across his face. “I think he knew who pushed Daniel, and I think that person shut him up permanently.”

  Ashton sheathed his sword. If Isaiah wasn’t the killer, then one of the Martins was, and Willow had no idea. He grabbed his phone and hit speed dial. After several rings, her phone went to voice mail. “Willow, call me immediately. Do not leave the party!”

  Willow thanked the trusting culture of small towns as she slid open the unlocked back door of the Martin house. She’d determined that if she wanted her happily ever after, she’d have to slay the dragon herself. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she sprinted across the basement and up the stairs, and then paused at the top to press her ear against the closed door. She’d seen all the Martins at the ball, but trespassing in their house still scared the fairy dust out of her.

  When she didn’t hear anything, she slipped into the dimly lit kitchen and jogged down the hallway to Cory’s old room. For some reason, Colin didn’t want her to have his key, and she was going to find out why.

  She eased open the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind her. Even before her eyes could adjust, she knew something had changed. The shadows were off. Afraid to chance turning on a lamp, she took two steps toward the blinds and her knee slammed into something. She bent down and felt the outline of a box.

  Navigating the gloom to the window, she cracked the blinds and turned around. The entire room was in boxes. The closet had been emptied out, all the books were off the shelves, and even the bed was stripped down. Surely they hadn’t done this because of her … But what if they had? She had left her Solo cup on the dresser the night of the party.

  Willow knelt by the first set of boxes and began to dig. She made quick work of the search because she knew exactly what she was looking for—a wooden box with Cory’s name engraved on the top, one that opened with the key in her purse.

  After going through several boxes full of clothes and books, she came across a plastic tub containing folders and desk items. She opened a blue folder labeled “English” and sat back on her heels. Cory had scrawled his name across the top of a paper on To Kill a Mockingbird. Willow’s hands began to shake. She’d done the same assignment in seventh grade. These papers and books and old clothes were all that was left of a human life. And it took only one careless act to end that life forever.

  Someone had killed this boy in cold blood, and it stood to reason they’d kill again to protect their secret. Willow returned the desk supplies to the box and sprang to her feet. Maybe Ashton was right—the truth wasn’t worth their lives.

  Turning in a quick circle, she made sure nothing looked out of place and fled into the hallway. But the half open door of Colin’s room stopped her. What if Cory’s box was right there? She slipped a hand into her bag and pulled out the key, gripping it in her fist like a weapon as she crept forward.

  The door gave a loud creak as she pushed it open. Chaos greeted her, but this time makeup tins littered the desk and colorful costume remnants draped the bed and floor. She stepped inside. A wooden box sat on the desk, and she rushed forward. But the name on top was Colin. She blew out her disappointment in a huff.

  Quickly she unlocked the box and sifted through the articles but didn’t find anything incriminating. She relocked the lid as a revelation hit her—if there had been a similar box in Cory’s room, whoever packed up his stuff would have found it. And based on the disorganization of Colin’s room, that hadn’t been him. Willow rushed into the hallway. If Mrs. Martin had packed up Cory’s stuff, she would have kept anything of importance.

  A soft bang sounded somewhere deep in the house. Willow froze. Could it be the heat kicking on or someone returning home? She counted to ten in her head and when she didn’t hear anything else, continued on. But with every step she took across the house, her conviction wavered. She’d been wrong so many times. Maybe she should just get out of there before someone caught her and called the police.

  Willow paused outside the double doors to the master bedroom. A gut-level instinct that had nothing to do with logic or facts urged her to press on. She knew she would find what she was looking for on the other side of those doors. Pulse racing, she pushed them open and slipped inside.

  She spotted it the moment she entered the room, sitting on top of a low dresser. Within seconds she’d fit the key in the lock and lifted the lid. What she found was beyond her wildest dreams. A journal. Her heart thudding in her ears, she leafed through to find the last entry.

  Saturday, May 12

  Leaving for Heartford Forest in the morning. I hope I’ll gather the courage to talk to Dad about what I’ve learned.

  It’s a horrible choice … to do what’s right or protect the ones you love.

  Willow flipped back through the pages and skimmed several entries about band drama and a girl with red hair and freckles that he’d had a crush on. With trembling fingers, she turned to the next page and skimmed for names she might recognize. Then she found it, two weeks before he’d passed away.

  Confronted Colin today. It didn’t go well. Not that I expected it to. I told him I saw him that day at the falls, and he backed me against the wall. Something switched off in his eyes, like he’d turned into a soulless clone. When he demanded to know what I’d seen, I told him, “I saw you push Daniel and I know why you did it.”

  Colin was the killer! A noise made Willow raise her head. She couldn’t place the sound. The prickles on the back of her neck urged her to go. But she just needed two more minutes to be sure. She kept reading.

  He backed off then and slumped on the bed. I explained everything I knew about him and Brayden stealing Claire Turano’s jewelry, selling it, and buying all that stuff. Then he admitted that Daniel knew what they’d done. And that Danny had threatened to tell. Colin said he hadn’t planned to kill Daniel, just scare him.

  I’m not so sure I believe him.

  When Colin asked me what I planned to do about it, I told him I couldn’t hold in the secret anymore. I begged him to turn himself in. Then I told him about the nightmares I’d been having about Ashton Keller chained in a damp cell, the flesh melting from his bones, and how it wasn’t right for Ashton to pay the price for something he didn’t do.

  Colin came at me again, this time wrapping his hands around my throat. He squeezed. His eyes popping out of his head. Just as I was about to black out, he released me and threatened to kill me too if I didn’t keep my mouth shut.

  I know it’s crazy, but I’m scared of my own brother.

  This was what she needed—the proof to clear Ashton’s name and put Colin away for good. After stuffing the journal in her purse, she relocked the box and set the key on top, and then pulled out her phone to call … who? Ashton? Her mom? Chief Kagawa? What if he buried the evidence again? Before she could decide, she noticed a piece of paper tucked into the back pocket of her bag. She pulled it out and read:

  Willow,

  Meet me at
Keller House by midnight. I need to tell you something important.

  ~A

  She’d meet Ashton and show him the journal so they could decide what to do together. Clutching her overstuffed bag to her chest, Willow glanced at the clock sitting on the dresser. It was eleven forty. She would have to hurry.

  CHAPTER Thirty

  Willow jogged up the driveway to Keller House, feeling like she was trapped in a bad slasher film. Mom had replaced the outside lights with orange bulbs that flashed on and off at random intervals, and as Willow climbed the porch steps a dozen glowing jack-o’-lanterns leered back at her. She opened the front door to the dimly lit foyer and flinched so hard she almost peed her pants. A ghost with a skeletal face floated in the mirror. As she watched with her hand clutched to her thudding chest, the image flickered and she turned to see the hologram machine hidden behind a plant. Her mom had done too good a job turning the place into a haunted house. Not that it needed much help.

  Shutting the door behind her, she called, “Mom? Ashton?”

  No answer. She didn’t even hear Rainn scampering around.

  In the kitchen, Willow found trays of food covered in plastic, and the hot spiced cider simmering in the Crock-Pot made her mouth water. She set the journal on the counter, pulled out her phone, and saw that she had several missed calls from Ashton and a text from her mom saying she and Rainn had decided to go to the ball to catch the headless horseman’s ride. Willow turned her ringer back on and checked the time. It was five minutes until midnight.

  A bang from upstairs caused her to whirl around. “Ashton?” When she didn’t hear a response, she began to worry. He tried to hide it, but he still hadn’t fully recovered after his accident. She raced down the hall, then flew up the stairs and saw a light shining from his bedroom. “Ash?” She peeked her head in, but the room was empty.

  A shuffling noise sounded down the hall, and her pulse leaped into her fingertips. If he was playing a trick on her, she would never forgive him. Her steps slowed. With the way they’d left things at the party, a prank didn’t seem appropriate. The hairs rose on Willow’s arms and she tiptoed back toward her room. Was someone in the house with her? Or had the famous Keller ghost finally come to call?