Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel

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Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel Page 4

by Moison, Dana V.


  “Yeah, maybe I should split it with you since you barely ordered anything for yourself,” she replied with a grin.

  After dinner, they glanced at the dessert menu, but ultimately Andy had to pass up the chocolate soufflé in light of his companion’s hypercritical look. They were about to ask for the check when Gloria suddenly remembered that there was supposed to be a reason behind their dinner date.

  “So . . . What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked.

  “Haven’t we talked enough already?” he answered a little bit confused as he winked at her.

  “Andy, you wanted to talk to me about something important, remember?”

  Andy had been having such a great time in the last couple of hours that he was secretly disappointed when he remembered that it wasn't a real date. He would have preferred not to ruin this delightful evening by talking about work and wanted to put off the discussion until tomorrow, but he knew Gloria would not let him do so.

  “So . . .” Gloria leaned forward and looked into his eyes.

  Andy hesitated but then continued. “I wanted to talk to you in more detail about the photo shoot. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

  Gloria remained silent but gave him a piercing glare in return.

  “Or, rather, you can say that I just didn’t tell you the whole story.” Andy attempted to placate Gloria since he interpreted her silence as anger.

  “What haven’t you told me exactly?” she asked in a stoic way that did not betray her emotions at the moment.

  “Well, this project is financed by Inner Beauty magazine. The Editor in Chief wants to devote an entire issue to the universal concept of beauty and its many manifestations across the world and over time. Your photo is supposed to be on the cover. Frankly, the editor insisted on only you and wasn’t willing to settle for any other model, and I totally agree with her,” he said, trying to flatter her.

  Gloria, who had expected worse news, was not overly disappointed. She had never planned to break out of the boundaries of the commercial field, though it would have been nice to have seen her picture displayed in a gallery. She had actually been excited to take part in an artistic project and had made a note to herself to focus more on this field in the future, perhaps by posing for a portrait like the Mona Lisa she had adored so much.

  The ultimate proof that modeling is not about looks, rather inspiration.

  There was only one thing that bothered her. She had worked many times with Inner Beauty magazine in the past, but ever since the current Editor in Chief had taken over, the job offers had stopped coming. And even when she was finally mentioned, it was always next to some hideous photo of her taken by the paparazzi. A few years had passed since then, and now the very same editor was insisting that she be featured in the magazine? And on the cover no less?

  Maybe she finally came to her senses, Gloria told herself. But still, this whole thing left her with a strange feeling. She had never met this editor, who had basically alienated her from the magazine, and now this same person was asking Gloria to be the star. It definitely made her wonder.

  “She asked me not to tell you, at least not at first, that the project is for the magazine, since you get dozens of offers every day. She wanted to make sure that you accepted the offer,” Andy interrupted her thoughts.

  And she was probably right, Gloria figured. Chances were she would have declined the offer, but now, in front of Andy, she felt no regret.

  “Well, it’s not such a big deal. We can settle the score if you let me have a bite of that chocolate soufflé you wanted and don’t tell anyone,” she smiled flirtingly.

  “No problem.” Andy felt a huge relief. “But there is one more thing. Kelly Danes, the editor, is arriving in New Zealand after the photo shoot ends in about a week or so, and she’s interested in meeting you. Apparently she has a vacation home here and she's invited us to stay with her.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “So, Heather, what was the nature of the relationship between you and Julie?”

  The latest body found had been identified as Julie Tyfer, though it looked nothing like the girl smiling in the photo. Like all the other victims, she had been incredibly beautiful, and Sharon would not have been surprised if she were a model.

  In light of the grim circumstances, Detective Davis had decided to focus first on Julie’s friends and family while their memories were still fresh, before reviewing the other victims’ cases yet again, as she had originally planned to do.

  Julie’s family resided in San Francisco, so they couldn’t tell her anything specific about her circumstances in the last few days, the most crucial information. Sharon was hoping that a conversation with Julie’s roommate, Heather, could shed some light on recent events.

  “We’ve been roommates and best friends for almost two years.” Heather sniffled and wiped her tears. “I met her the first week she moved to New York. Julie came here to pursue her dream of becoming a model.” Heather paused and gazed at the photos of her friend’s disfigured body. “I can’t believe someone did this to her . . . that that’s really Julie!” she burst into tears.

  Sharon handed her a tissue. “It’s very important that you try to recreate the last few days. As her roommate and best friend you probably were the closest person to her. Anything that comes to mind may help.”

  “We went with some friends to a bachelorette party in Atlantic City last weekend. Besides that nothing out of the ordinary has happened in the past week, although I did notice that Julie seemed happier. She was walking around smiling and even singing in the shower.” Heather let out a small laugh through her tears.

  “Do you think she’d met someone?”

  “Julie used to go out on dates often. She was a very beautiful girl. But I‘d never noticed anyone in particular. That’s strange,” she continued, “Julie usually told me everything, but this time I had a feeling that she was keeping something from me. When I asked her about it that very morning, she just laughed and said I was being paranoid, but still, that feeling nagged me.”

  “Do you think there was something, or someone, who had gotten her attention?”

  “Yes,” Heather nodded agreeably. “I’m sure something was keeping her mind busy, but I don’t know what. I wish I could help you more,” she sighed.

  “That’s okay,” Sharon comforted her. “Sometimes, even what seems like the most trivial thing can be of help.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t think of anything else.”

  As Sharon walked her out of the police station, Heather added, “It’s probably nothing, but a few days ago, I saw Julie put what appeared to be a business card in the drawer of her nightstand next to her bed. Perhaps it’s nothing, but anyway, I’m supposed to sort out her things and send them to her parents tomorrow–”

  “You may have helped me more than you realize,” Sharon interrupted her excitedly. People tended to keep important things next to their bed; if that card had meant nothing, it probably would have been thrown away. This could turn out to be the lead that Sharon was so desperate to get.

  “I’ll escort you back to the apartment. I need to take a look at that piece of paper as soon as possible.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “Kelly Danes – Editor in Chief,” was the name printed on the business card, which also carried the logo of what had been Sharon’s favorite teen magazine during her adolescent years.

  The possibility that this card had an actual connection to the murder case seemed quite farfetched, but if there was one lesson Sharon had never forgotten from her days at the academy, it was never to discount a possible lead in an investigation, because the missing piece of the puzzle could very well be hidden from the untrained eye; though Sharon assumed that even those who had written the academy text book would have questioned the validity of this so-called clue.

  In any case, before she acted impetuously, she should try to learn from her mistakes by examining the previous cases, rather than being swept away by pursuing a
wild theory that was based solely on a random business card. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. Did she really believe that the Editor in Chief of Inner Beauty had something to do with the serial killings? There had to be a better explanation than that.

  Sharon knew that Rob would probably think the same way. She could already hear him dismissing her. It was not surprising that a beautiful girl would have a business card from a fashion persona, and there was no proof that the card was even given to her by the actual editor. And, at the moment, Sharon could not approach the respected editor for clarification without implying that she was a person of interest – which would open up a whole new can of worms.

  Sharon decided she should wait for the time being. There was no point in focusing on this new piece of information, whether it was relevant or not, until she retraced her steps from the first murder, as planned. Maybe then things would become clearer.

  But she couldn’t forsake this new lead all together; so in the meantime, she asked one of the rookies to provide her with every piece of information that existed about the renowned editor, ignoring the raised eyebrow in response. Sharon then started going through the old cases and conversation protocols, hoping, though without much faith, to find another lead.

  “Well, I guess we have to start with you, Mandy. If there’s any hope left, it’s up to you,” she said to the photo of the deceased and began reading the documents.

  * * *

  The successful magazine editor walked magnificently across the glossy marble floor toward the elevator. She confidently pressed the button and patiently waited until the down arrow in front of her flickered. The clicks of her heels were soon swallowed by the heavy doors. She was left alone, inside the designed compartment, waiting to be set free. After a few moments the doors opened for the second time, and the sound of her footsteps echoed throughout the underground parking lot. She slid elegantly into the seat of her Mercedes, inserted the key, and started driving.

  It was rush hour and all routes were jammed. The thought that other people were probably staring jealously at her luxurious car caused her to grin. Kelly was always in a divine mood after one of her murders. It was as if she had gone on a pleasurable journey into the dark depths of her soul and regained the strength that she needed, at least enough to sustain her until the next time. It had been less than two days since she had said her final goodbye to Julie Tyfer, so the elevating effect had not yet faded.

  The cars ahead of her crawled slowly through the heavy traffic, but it didn’t bother her. Kelly remembered that she needed to stop on the way home to buy a new package of extra-large double layered trash bags to prevent leaks. She felt a slight tremor in her hands when the thought crossed her mind, not knowing for sure whether it had been due to excitement or fear. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

  At times she was overtaken by the anxiety of someone finding out about her actions and preventing her from doing the only thing that filled her heart with happiness. She hurried to banish the apprehensive thoughts from her mind. No one was clever enough to track her down. She was too good for all those discouraged cops, who even after three years could not find the slightest clue to lead them to the identity of the infamous killer.

  Kelly opened the window and exhaled a long breath, as if she were releasing along with it all of her self-doubts, leaving them behind in the cold New York air. Darkness fell and the dozens of surrounding cars seemed to Kelly like shining dots escorting her on the way back home. The traffic light changed, and Kelly pressed the gas pedal with full force.

  From now on, no one could stop her.

  * * *

  Many hours had passed since sunset, and Sharon’s eyes had become decisively tired. The light on her table lamp had dimmed, as if it were signaling her that it was time to stop. She finally broke down and decided to hurry back home so she could gain a few hours of sleep before the day dawned. She started putting the papers back in the file, but then her jaded eyes encountered a minor note from the interview protocol with Mandy Sheldon’s sister. Two words caught her eyes and had immediately perked her back up – Kelly Danes.

  Apparently, a few days before her disappearance, Mandy had called her sister and told her she had been discovered by a magazine editor, who had marked her as the next promising model when she’d gone for a job interview for a dull desk job. Mandy even had intended to frame the business card she had gotten from the editor as a souvenir of the glorious day that changed her life. She had asked her sister not to tell anyone just yet, because it was supposed to be a surprise. Later in her statement, the sister bemoaned the tragic loss of her baby sister, who did not get a chance to fulfill her life’s wish.

  Indeed, it’s a rather strange coincidence, Sharon thought to herself. Julie Tyfer was also quite secretive in the days before she died, as her roommate Heather had declared. Perhaps she also had planned to surprise her loved ones with similar news? But still, all she had was some circumstantial, very weak evidence. Sharon started to think that perhaps the late hour was taking its toll and impairing her judgment. How could she even suspect someone so high up the ladder? Kelly Danes was a well-known public figure. Her work in Inner Beauty magazine had made her legendary. She mingled with haute couture designers as well as powerful politicians. She had a reputation for being tough – even fierce – but there were no complaints about assassinating models on the set, Sharon’s sense of sarcasm interfered.

  Kelly Danes was a handsome woman, no doubt, but maybe being constantly surrounded by gorgeous women as an inseparable part of her position had driven her over the edge? The odds were slim. Sharon released a soft yet frustrated groan. Perhaps her desperation to find something was getting the best of her, because she had actually decided to examine the vague idea instead of immediately rejecting it.

  Maybe she wasn’t as good as she used to be, if the only thing she had to hold on to was a crazy theory originating late in the night, just before dawn. It was clear to Sharon that with the given evidence, no one was going to take her seriously. But it didn’t matter to her. The real question was if she should seriously consider this ridiculous lead now, or if she just needed to clear her desk, rest her head, and savor the few hours she had left before daylight would fill the office.

  CHAPTER 8

  The light of a new day broke through the luxurious curtains that covered the windows in Gloria’s room. Warm rays penetrated through and fell like golden stripes around her bed. She felt as if she had awakened to a magical day, one that would be as magical as the previous night had been.

  Before her eyes had adjusted to the morning light, a smile spread upon her face as her thoughts drifted back to last night with Andy. Gloria remembered their last moments together when he’d walked her to her room, before they had said goodnight.

  She had relished his indecision whether to kiss her or not, probably wondering if it would come across as unprofessional rather than sincere. She was aware that she hadn’t clarified her intentions, and that he had been a bit confused by her mixed signals. The truth was that Gloria herself was not yet sure which road to take. Despite the strong character that she’d had to develop at a young age, and that had further stiffened as her career soared, she was still afraid to get hurt.

  But how much she’d missed having butterflies in her stomach.

  Gloria longed to feel love again, true passion, a real piercing feeling without deception or hypocrisy. Something to call her own, private and shielded from all the fame and glory that surrounded her. It had been a long time since she had felt that anything like this even had a chance in the reality she lived in, and it frightened her. But maybe here, thousands of miles away from home, she could succeed.

  When her eyes had gotten used to the light and her blurry sight had become clear, she noticed the late hour flickering on the bedside clock’s display. She had made breakfast plans with Andy before the beginning of the grueling day. Of course Arthur and the rest of the crew would be there as well. A slight crease of di
sappointment formed between her eyes but she quickly rushed to conceal it.

  She had about ten minutes to create a fresh look, simple but still marvelous. Gloria knew she did not have to do much herself, since a whole team was waiting to make her (even more) beautiful for the exclusive photo shoot.

  But only after twenty minutes Gloria finally felt she had achieved her goal and turned to the door. A feeble knock was heard. Who could it be at this time, she wondered? Gloria opened the door and found Andy, his flaxen hair slightly disheveled, holding in his hand a map that probably showed the way to the site of the photo shoot where they would be driving today.

  “I knew you’d be late,” he said in a deep, confident voice, but his timid smile gave him away.

  The hotel breakfast was beyond belief. The buffets were filled with spectacular delicacies, and the waiters were ready to fulfill any request, in case something was missing – which was impossible.

  Even before she entered the dining room, when the sweet smell of fresh pastries and cinnamon filled her nose, Gloria regretted taking this job. She could not afford to gain a single pound. As a model over thirty years old, the judgmental looks and criticism were turned her way now more than ever.

  During the first years of her career, she had been so strict about her weight that Arthur had to hire a professional nutritionist out of concern for her health. In the last few years, after her status had been well established, she had allowed herself to enjoy the good things in life and indulged in something sweet from time to time, between projects; usually it was a rich chocolate dessert from a gourmet restaurant, but she also had a soft spot for simpler desserts from her childhood, like vanilla ice cream from Baskin Robbins.

 

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