Story Excerpt Sunday: from Poisoned Pearls by Leah Cutter

Poisoned Pearls

by Leah Cutter

Kyle still smelled of baby oil and cigarette smoke, though I figured he’d been dead for at least two hours, based on the light dusting of snow that covered his artistically torn jeans and preppy red-and-white-striped button-down. The snow around his body was all smudged with footprints, probably from the cops. He sat propped up against the wall in the alley, dark red bricks supporting him, while some stupid tagger’s name spiked over his head, painted in black, lik...