The Rules for Lying Read online

  Esther shivered. “I’m cold.”

  Mrs. Hart took a step. “I’m taking the child to the house.”

  “Bring her to me.” Pike ordered.

  Mrs. Hart’s shoulders tensed. She pushed Esther behind her and spoke without a quaver. “No. Do whatever you wish in here, but Esther and I are leaving.”

  Even with flaming eyes distorting his face, the shock was evident. “Disobedience is not possible. You are mine to command.”

  “I most certainly am not,” Mrs. Hart retorted. Insult trumped fear every time with her. “How dare you speak to me like a dog!”

  Flames shot from his eyes. They encircled Mrs. Hart and Esther, trapping them inside a fiery prison. “How did you break free?” he roared. Mrs. Hart stood defiant, lips pressed shut in a stubborn line.

  Frenzied growls drew everyone’s attention. Honey Bun darted into the carriage house, snapping at Pike’s ankles. A twisted smile embellished the doctor’s features. With one quick movement, he snatched the terrier by the scruff. She squirmed in his grip, baring sharp teeth. “You’re quite right, Mrs. Hart. You certainly aren’t a dog. Although, I see similarities.”

  Desperate situation or not, no one spoke to Mrs. Hart that way. “Monster! You’ll get nothing from me.”

  Pike looked fixedly at Honey Bun. Amber flames reflected in the dog’s eyes. Without warning, a blast of yellow light from Pike struck Mrs. Hart in the face. I watched in horror as she screamed and collapsed on the floor. Honey Bun went limp.

  “Mrs. Hart!” Esther knelt next to the fallen woman and threw both arms around her. “She’s dead.” A sick helpless feeling enveloped me.

  Pike walked unconcerned through the fiery circle. The flames left no mark on his body. He tossed Honey Bun dismissively next to the lifeless Mrs. Hart. “I taught her a lesson, child. When I command, I expect obedience. Do you understand?” Esther’s tear-stained face nodded. “Good. Obey me, or worse will happen to you.”

  With a soft whimper Honey Bun stirred. The little terrier staggered to her feet, momentarily disoriented and confused. Then she planted shaky legs protectively in front of Esther, curled her upper lip, and growled at Pike.

  “So, you have fight left.” Pike sounded amused. “See the girl remains calm while I prepare. Maybe I will be pleased enough to keep you alive.”

  Esther pulled Honey Bun close and whispered in her ear. The little dog bobbed her head as if in agreement. Both turned their faces directly at me. For a brief instant, I caught and held the gazes of a blind girl and a nondescript terrier. I received a distinct impression neither was anxious to reveal my position to Pike.

  The yellow light flared again. “I summon the door.”

  Four sparks jumped from the doctor’s eyes. They hovered in the air and then burst into flames. Heat billowed from below and I shifted uncomfortably on my hazardous perch.

  Esther clung tight to Honey Bun. “What’s happening?”

  “You’re very special, Esther,” Pike crooned. “The Grimaldi’s had no inkling of your potential, but you passed every test.”

  She stiffened. “You killed them.”

  “Yes. I’ve killed others. I’m prepared to kill many more.”

  For once the dark man didn’t lie. Pike’s heartless manner frightened me more than the flames.

  “What do want with me?” said Esther.

  “You will open a door to a special place. You will go inside and retrieve something important.”

  Esther’s voice dropped to a frightened whisper. “I don’t want to.”

  “Child,” he murmured, “you have no choice.”

  Pike faced the four suspended flames and chanted in a mumbled sing-song. The hair rose on the back of my neck. Heat wafted upwards, making the air hard to breathe. I covered my mouth to stifle a cough.

  Sweat beaded on Pike’s forehead. His face twisted with intense concentration. The flaming orbs collided together in a brilliant flash. They stretched and flattened. Squared-off corners appeared. Before my eyes the rectangles joined together to make a four-paneled door.

  The very air around me crackled and hummed with an electric current, the whole scene beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Pike muttered a few incoherent words. Another spark flew from his eyes. This one danced around to etch a tiny flame on each panel, identical to the figure imprinted on the Grimaldi’s house. The spark melded into the mystical portal and formed a handle.

  Pike turned to Esther. “It is time.”

  Esther rose clasping Honey Bun tight in her arms. She stamped her foot. “No! I won’t.”

  My lips twitched in an involuntary smile. Despite the danger, Esther was still a pill. Honey Bun bared her teeth in a vicious snarl. I never saw the placid dog so threatening.

  Pike shoved Esther toward the portal. “Once inside, start walking. Those on the other side will lead you to—”

  “I won’t! I won’t!” She tried to squirm away, but he held her shoulders firm.

  “Touch the handle!”

  His voice rolled through me like a peal of thunder. Honey Bun peered at me. Do something, the dog’s eyes seemed to plead.

  What? I frantically scanned the inside of the carriage house for a weapon and saw nothing.

  Esther’s face set with stone-hard determination. “You can’t make me.”

  Pike tensed. “You’re correct.” The truth hit me, then. For some reason, the door would only open under Esther’s willing hand. “I am out of patience, child. Obey me now or feel the flesh seared off your bones.” The flames in his eyes blazed, licking at her dress. The hem smoldered.

  “Peter!” she screamed in terror.

  Honey Bun leaped from Esther’s arms, growling and snapping at Pike’s ankles. Startled, the doctor stepped underneath my position.

  Fury exploded inside me. He had killed Mrs. Hart without a thought, without a twinge of consciousness. I launched off the rafter and hit Pike a glancing blow on the shoulder. We both landed with a sickening thud. For an instant I lay stunned, all breath knocked out.

  “Peter!”

  I scrambled to my feet, swatting at the smoke curling from the hem of her dress.

  Pike pushed himself to his knees, howling with the rage of wolf gone mad. As he turned flaming eyes in my direction, I gripped a handful of dirt from the floor and flung hard at his face. He fell back with a roar. Then I ripped off my jacket, and covered Esther’s head and mine.

  “Hold your breath,” I yelled.

  “No!” Pike shrieked, blinking hard to clear his eyes. “Don’t break the circle!”

  I yanked Esther through the flames. The heat flared around us and the fire disappeared. The spectral door wavered and vanished. Pike blindly lunged, his hands snatched at my clothing. A furry blur raced past and Honey Bun sunk her teeth into his wrist. Pike let go, trying to shake off the furious dog. I grabbed Esther’s cane and smashed it hard over his head.

  I pushed Esther past the door with Honey Bun right on my heels. White hot lightning shot out of Pike’s eyes. The firebolts missed us and blasted into the doorframe. Sheets of flame raced up the wall to the roof.

  “Shake a leg, Esther!” I yelled.

  The intense heat blew out all the windows. When we reached the house, Honey Bun gave an urgent bark. A dark figure staggered from the inferno. Pike was alive, miraculously unscathed.

  In blind panic I steered Esther to the street.

  Mrs. Murphy threw open the front window. “I see you, Peter Whistler,” she bellowed. “Murderer! I’ve called the police. Come back here with Esther.”

  I was in a mess now. Good thing Mrs. Murphy was too fat to run me down. Esther stumbled over the curb. “Sorry.” I handed her the cane.

  “S’okay. Where we headed?”

  Flames ripped through the air behind Little Angels. Mrs. Murphy would tell the cops she saw me running from the scene. We had one option.

  “Train station—we need to get out of town fast.”

  “Honey Bun, come back,” Mrs. Murphy blared. />
  I glanced behind. The little terrier tailed us, but I couldn’t stop to chase her home now.

  “Dognapper,” Mrs. Murphy screeched.

  “Sure…great…why not?” I spit out, puffing along. “What’s one more crime added to the list of all the other things I haven’t done?” Honey Bun darted to my side and took a gander with a big doggy grin. “Think it’s funny?” I snarled.

  “Nope,” said Esther. “She’s proud of you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Keep moving, Esther.”

  Running with a blind kid isn’t easy, but after a block, we had a rhythm. “One-two, one-two…don’t stop, Esther.”

  “How much farther?” she panted.

  “The station is dead ahead.”

  I angled off into the woods and up a small hill to my favorite spot for watching the trains. A shrill whistle echoed down the tracks. We were in luck. A locomotive would pass any minute. I crossed my fingers wishing for a freight. Passenger cars were staffed with stewards and a conductor, near impossible to board unnoticed.

  Pushing through the shrubbery, I led Esther over a low embankment. Nothing was scheduled to stop this time of night. The station didn’t even have a depot master on duty, but ahead the line took a sharp turn. Every locomotive had to slow in order not to derail. The low rumble of the wheels on the metal tracks vibrated through my shoes as the train’s headlight appeared in the distance.

  “Esther, we have to hop on. Do you think you can?”

  Her head bobbed. “I’ll do it, Peter, if you help me.” Amber light played around the rails in front of the deserted station. Honey Bun yipped.

  “Pike is coming!” Esther cried. “He sees us!”

  I had no time to ask how the blind girl knew. The whistle shrieked again. Brakes screeched. The beam skewed toward us and crossed the tracks. Pike closed in.

  “Run, Esther!”

  The question now was whether the locomotive or Pike reached us first. The engine roared by with an explosion of wind and I suppressed a cheer. The string of boxcars rumbling behind meant a freight. I pulled Esther along as fast as her legs would go. Trains had sure seemed to move a lot slower from the hilltop.

  Boxcar after boxcar clanked past, but all of the sliding side doors were shut. Suddenly, Honey Bun yipped twice and raced along the track keeping pace with the last boxcar. I nearly cried out in relief at the sight of an open door.

  “I’m going to put your hand on the car,” I yelled at Esther. “You have to keep pace. I’ll jump and pull you in after me.” Amber brilliance raked across our faces. “Don’t stop no matter what.”

  The open boxcar drew alongside. I positioned Esther’s hand on the train and then grabbed her cane and flung it in. With a running leap, I snagged the edge. Fingernails tore as I pulled myself through the open door. Leaning over, I snatched Esther’s wrist.

  “Jump!” I ordered.

  Esther took a stumbling leap and I nearly lost my grip. She screamed as her other arm flailed about wildly. If Esther fell now, she’d be crushed underneath. Straining, I hung over the side, and caught her other hand. I yanked hard and she fell on top of me. Esther was immediately on her knees feeling for the opening.

  “Where is she?”

  “Who—”

  A frantic barking erupted over the noise of the train. The little terrier’s legs pumped like pistons, trying desperately to keep pace with the boxcar.

  “Esther, we can’t—”

  “You have to get her,” she wailed.

  “You’re nuts. She’ll go home. She’ll be all right.”

  “No, she won’t.” Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. “She bit Pike. He’ll kill her dead, for sure. Please, Peter. Pleeeeese…”

  “All right,” I snapped. “Quit hollering.”

  The train rounded the bend and began to accelerate. I jumped down and nearly fumbled over my own feet. The ray locked onto my position. I scooped up Honey Bun and threw her inside. She landed with a yelp. (I hoped on her head.) The train lurched forward. A burning stitch tore through my side as I forced my legs faster. Gasping for breath, I watched helplessly as the boxcar pulled ahead.

  “Peter, hurry!”

  I heard a crackling hiss behind me. A flame shot out of the dark, slicing through the air. The fire missed my head by inches, searing a ragged scar across the side of the boxcar.

  Funny how pure unvarnished terror can make an Olympic sprinter out of a skinny orphan with no athletic training.

  I shot ahead. With a bounding leap my fingers snagged the edge of the boxcar. Small hands seized one wrist and sharp little teeth clamped on the other to haul me in. I landed with a thud and then immediately scrambled up to peer outside. Far down the track the amber light winked out. I struggled to pull the heavy door closed before collapsing with a grunt, too exhausted to move.

  “He’s…gone,” I wheezed.

  Honey Bun barked. “She said, ‘Thank you’,” announced Esther primly, “but you sure took your sweet time to get her on board.”

  I gulped in a deep lungful of air. “Honey Bun…is dang lucky…I dragged her mangy butt…in at all.”

  “She’s not Honey Bun, silly,” said Esther. “She’s Mrs. Hart.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Desperate Escape

  In the past twenty-four hours I had been accused of arson, dognapping, murder, and excessive rudeness. I was nearly burnt to toast by a man with flaming eye balls. I was sore over every inch of my body, hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and now was trapped in a freight train with a yippy little dog and an obviously crazy girl. My limit was reached.

  I raised myself on an elbow and bellowed, “You are out of your cotton-pickin’ mind, Esther Roth. Of all the lame-brained, screwball, bat nut ideas—”

  Esther wrinkled her face in a scowl. “I’m on the square, Peter Whistler.”

  “Mrs. Hart is dead.”

  “No, she isn’t. She’s sitting right here. Pike put Mrs. Hart inside of Honey Bun. Go ahead. Ask her yourself.”

  As soon as the train slowed again, I’d jump off and head out on my own. We were far from Pike now. Someone would find Esther and escort her to the nearest loony bin. Honey Bun could go back to Mrs. Murphy. I was done.

  “G’wan,” prodded Esther, “ask her to do something.”

  I sneered at Honey Bun. “Bark three times and sit.” She barked three times, sat, and then rolled her eyes in exasperation.

  Mouth agape, I sat straight up. “It must be a trick. Dogs can be taught to do all sorts of tricks. Roll over.” She rolled over. “Shake.” She wiggled her left front paw. I demanded she wag her tail, run in a circle, nod her head, and scratch her left ear. She did everything. After I asked her to bark the answer to 27-16, she barked eleven times and then bit me on the ankle. She pushed her little muzzle close to my face and snorted in disgust.

  “Mrs. Hart lost patience with you,” Esther announced with complete conviction.

  I took in a long deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I must be dreaming. It’s impossible.”

  “And men with flaming eyeballs are on every corner in town?” Esther turned up her nose. “Boy, you sure are slow.”

  “Well excuse me for not recognizing a person was put inside a dog. Hey…” I gaped at her. “How did you know what happened to Mrs. Hart?”

  “I hear her. I got powerful good hearing. Then I found her eyes and saw she was in Honey Bun.”

  I scratched my head. “You don’t make any kind of sense, Esther.”

  She stamped her foot in irritation. “I didn’t say I made sense, Peter Whistler. I’m trying to explain what I can do. If I know someone…and I concentrate…I can find my way to their eyes and see what they see. That’s how I knew about the day in the park when you beaned Chauncey with the pie. I was in your eyes.” Mrs. Hart barked and Esther giggled. “He deserved it, all right.” Esther must have sensed my continued skepticism because she blurted out, “I’ve seen your hiding place in the cellar at Little Angels. It has an old mattress and comic books you
swiped from the store.”

  “That place was private,” I shouted in indignation. “You had no right to spy.”

  She stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “What’s the big deal? I only peeked a few times when I was with the Grimaldi’s. They never talked to me except to yell or send me to my room.”

  “It just is, Esther,” I sputtered. “You can’t go around spying on people.”

  “Why not?” Clearly, Esther had a personal ethic even looser than mine.

  “Cause you can’t. Spying is not…” I fumbled for an argument. “Polite.” Without thinking I turned to Mrs. Hart for an endorsement. “Isn’t that right?” Good God. I had just requested moral support from a dog.

  Mrs. Hart yipped and patted Esther with her paw. Her opinion must have mattered way more than mine because Esther said, “Okay. I won’t unless you or Mrs. Hart says so.”

  With our ethical dilemma settled, I burned with curiosity. “Is that how you knew I hid in the bushes when Pike came to the store?”

  “Uh-huh. I felt your eyes near.”

  “Felt them?”

  “I’d been to your eyes a bunch of times, so they’re easy to find.”

  “You said a few,” I squawked. “What else did you see?”

  Esther crossed her heart. “I swear, nothing much. I was hardly home. The Grimaldi’s didn’t like me, so I stayed at school, except when they had to get me for holidays.” She scowled. “Being alone at school was better than their house. They said I was useless, and complained when they had to spend so much as a penny on me. They were chiselers, too, and cheated all their customers. Not Mrs. Hart, though. They couldn’t pull a fast one on her.”

  “She’s too smart for that,” I said. Was it my imagination or did the little terrier’s eyes shine with thanks. “How did Pike get tangled with them?”

  “They met at a speakeasy. He said maybe he could fix the blindness and offered to examine me for free. They figured if I wasn’t blind they could put me to work in the store, so said okay.”

  “Does he know you can see out of other eyes?”

  “Nope. Only my parents knew. They said never to tell or people would take me away and sell me to a freak show. Cousin Nico sure would of. All Pike did was run a bunch of dumb tests. Afterwards, he told them I was for sure blind. We didn’t meet again until after the fire.”