Poison
Page 33
Now Ryan approaches from the opposite corner. He pauses at the light, as though he is performing what it is to be an upstanding citizen. He is wearing his weekend attire, jeans, a baseball cap, and an oversize parka. His face is obscured by a few days’ growth. He looks overgrown, unmoored, not the familiar presentable Ryan. The light changes, and he crosses the street. He follows Aaron into an alley in between two battered houses. A dog barks sporadically.
Now Anna gets out of the car. She stands at the curb as though she’s looking for an address and then hurries toward the alley. Lacking a more sophisticated recording device, they have used what they’ve got: Anna has Cass’s phone in her pocket. It’s on speaker, calling Nora. Cass and Nora sit in the car, listening.
A loud indiscernible sound and then Anna is speaking.
“A classmate of mine recommended you.”
“Oh yeah? Which classmate?”
“She said not to use her name. Said she’s a very good customer and that I could trust you.”
A pause. The dog barks. No words for a long moment. Cass is breathless, focused.
“Do you think you could help me out?” says Anna.
“What would be helpful?” Aaron says finally.
Now Ryan. “He likes to be helpful.”
“I got a really important paper,” says Anna. “Gotta pull a bunch of all-nighters.” Her voice is high, flirtatious. Sounds like she’s smiling.
“He likes all-nighters,” Ryan says. “Right, Aaron?”
“Love all-nighters.” Another short pause and the rustle of fabric. Is he reaching into his backpack, producing options? “Regular or extra-strength?” he says.
“Extra-strength, please,” says Anna. She giggles.
Silence as the purchase is made, the transaction completed. Cass waits for Anna to emerge from the alley, but Anna wants another quote. “What’s your poison?” she says.
Ryan responds. “Oh, nothing too potent for me. Just a little something to take the edge off. I prefer to support local business rather than Big Pharma.”
“Got it.” Another giggle. “Thanks for your help,” says Anna.
“Glad to be of service,” says Aaron.
More silence as Aaron hands Ryan his purchase.
How many women have to report a crime before the crime is believed?
One victim. Three witnesses. Twelve medical labs. A photograph. And a confession.
A minute later, Anna hurries out of the alley. She is out of breath but smiling. She walks quickly, checks behind her, then gets in the car. Still flushed, she empties her stash on her lap.
“Well done,” says Cass.
Anna is beaming. “That’s the real high,” she says.
“You’ve got your story,” says Cass. “And a friend for life. Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”
“Ready?” says Nora.
“Almost,” says Cass. She is still staring at the alley. She opens her door slowly. “Just need to do one last thing.”
She watches as Ryan walks down the street. He is moving slowly. He passes the house with the barking dog, the empty porches. He pauses at the light and crosses the street. Then, he stops at a green derelict house, finds a key, enters quickly.
* * *
It is late when Cass returns to this door. The time when there are no witnesses. She is not supposed to be here now. But she is consumed by the force of her rage. The force of vindication. She knocks on the door. A steel door on a wooden house. She waits. She will wait until sunrise if she has to.
Mary-Lynn Logan opens the door wearing a tight white tank and jean cut-offs, a patch of midriff proudly displayed above a swollen belly. Her rabid face looks bovine now. Due to her maternal condition. The face of a dog, chewing a bone, smug with the satisfaction of a plan nearly completed. Nearly, but not completely. A life, a home, and a man she was willing to kill for. And a baby of her own as a bonus. Ryan follows, in his briefs. His face contorts into a dopey grin. But he is not happy to see Cass. It is the grin of a busted liar.
“Did you follow me here?” He stares at her with loathing.
“Just came to pick up the dry cleaning,” she says. “It’s such a shame we’ll never get to see your big performance. I was so looking forward to seeing you on the stand, testifying to my ‘suicidal ideation.’ Were you going to break down in tears or play it really stoic?”
“You’re breaking the law.” A smile curls at the corner of his lips. A snarl. An animal’s first indication of attack. “You’re done. You’re fucked,” he says. “Now you’ll never get your kids back.” He thinks he can rage with impunity, but he is shaking. “I’m calling the cops.” He takes out his phone.
“No need,” says Cass. “I called them already.”
Ryan is breathless, panicked now. He blocks the door on instinct.
Cass takes in their vile vignette. Two sociopaths standing at their door. A modern American Gothic. Cass’s stolen child inside. A baby in Marley’s gnarly belly. How close they came to taking her life, taking everything that mattered.
“You never loved me,” Cass says. “You loved my life. You wanted what I created.”
“I gave you a choice,” Ryan says. “We could have shared him.”
“Thanks anyway,” she says. “Now you won’t be allowed in his presence.”
“You can’t prove anything,” Ryan says. His voice is shrill and desperate.
“A day ago, I would have agreed,” she says. “But now I’ve got something better than proof. I have my beliefs back.”
Cass reaches to the back of her neck as the sound of sirens rises. The sirens sound like weeping, the loudest wailing in the world. A mother for her child. A child for his mother. The clasp releases. A squad car pulls up and parks at the curb. Two officers open their doors. Ryan is handcuffed first, and then his trailer-park princess. And Cass watches with bone-deep relief as these two toxic people are quarantined and Ryan’s freedom is finally choked by his ambition.
Cass tosses his ring to the curb as the car door slams behind him.
She looks down the street, where her friends are waiting. Jean holds her phone high, like a lighter at a concert, recording it all. Anna’s got her camera. Nora stands, arms crossed, smiling.
Cass hurries in the house now to collect her child. He is sleeping on a bare mattress, oblivious to the chaos around him. She lifts him to her chest and carries him out. It is heaven to hold him.
As she walks, she takes out her phone.
“Yes, I know it’s late, Mom,” she says. “I’m coming to pick up Alice and Pete. I’ll tell you in person.” A pause. “Your four favorite words.”
I told you so.
Cass watches the cop car recede, surrounded by her friends, her sisters. The sky is churned by silver clouds that look like inverted mountains. Light bears down from above, determined to restore order. The bay and the sky are a mirror and reflection. She thinks of what she has survived and what she will overcome. She thinks of what she knows now, the ways that she is stronger. She thinks of every woman ravaged by violence while her attacker is rewarded. She will fight for these women also. Killers forget that when they fail they train their insurrection. Sola docit venenum. It’s the dose that makes the poison. And poison that makes the best medicine.
MAINE DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH
221 State Street
11 State House Station
Augusta, Maine 04333-0011
Phone: (207) 287-3707
FAX: (207)287-3005
TTY: Maine relay 711
December 29, 2017
Dear Mrs. Connor,
Due to the mandated reporting of medical labs in the state of Maine, your labs have been reported to the Department of Health. You have been placed on the Heavy Metals Registry due to your elevated levels. Those on the registry have exceeded safe and normal levels, usually due to unknown environmental toxicity or occupational hazards. Please call the number on this letter for more information. You may be entit
led to free medical care for the remediation of heavy metals. Please find the enclosed info sheet to better understand how your job may be affecting your health.
Sincerely,
Jean E. Hoff
sitters.com
123 main street
anytown, ny 12345
917•123•4567
December 26, 2017
A sitter you have employed has failed the identity authentication. She has been removed from the website. Please discontinue contact with this person. A member is removed from the site for one of three reasons: she is underage, she has failed a background check, or she has provided a fraudulent name and biographical information.
ALSO BY GALT NIEDERHOFFER
A Taxonomy of Barnacles
The Romantics
Love and Happiness
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Galt Niederhoffer is a writer and producer. She has written several novels, including The Romantics and A Taxonomy of Barnacles, and has produced more than thirty indie films, twelve of which were selections and award-winners at the Sundance Film Festival. Niederhoffer has also been published in Vogue, New York magazine, and Harper’s Bazaar. She lives in New York City with her three children. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Part I
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Part II
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Also by Galt Niederhoffer
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
POISON. Copyright © 2017 by Galt Niederhoffer. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by James Iacobelli
Cover photograph of woman © Jenni Holma/Getty Images
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-08529-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-08530-6 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250085306
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First Edition: November 2017