Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel

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Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel Page 12

by Moison, Dana V.


  Gloria looked at him, the combative expression in her eyes gone. She did not say a word, just let herself be embraced in his arms.

  “Let’s go inside,“ she said, taking Andy’s hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

  CHAPTER 28

  The white light blinded her even before she opened her eyes. She felt as if her body had somehow loosened, a kind of floating sensation, that she could barely sense herself. Muffled voices whispered around her, although in her head there was utter silence. She felt as though she had reached the end of a long journey, and now had to face the finish line. Eventually, she opened her eyes. A vague silhouette occupied the dazzling space.

  “It’s good to have you back with us, Sharon.“

  That voice was oddly familiar; a lot like her uncle Jack’s, who had been killed on duty three years ago. He was also a cop.

  “Where am I?“ she asked in a raspy voice.

  “Don’t worry. It’s alright. The most important thing right now is for you to get some rest. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.“

  Sharon didn't understand where she was. The last thing she remembered was the excruciating pain she had felt when the bullet from Kelly’s gun had pierced her chest. She had been sure that she was about to die.

  “What’s going on here? I don’t understand . . .“

  “You’re in Mount Sinai hospital. It’s a miracle you’re alive. It’s important that you rest.“

  Sharon was so confused and overwhelmed. Who found her? How did she get here? Is she really going to be okay?

  “You dodged a bullet.“ She heard that friendly voice again. “Well, not exactly, but you get my drift.“

  Sharon’s eyes started to grow accustomed to the neon light. The vague silhouette began to look more and more familiar, from one moment to another.

  “Rob . . . ?“

  “You thought I wouldn’t have my best detective’s back?“

  “What happened? How did I . . .“

  “Survive?“

  Sharon looked at him and nodded.

  “It was close. When I found you, you were unconscious and had already lost a lot of blood, but I felt a pulse. It was weak but still there. You have always been a fighter.“

  Sharon glanced at the bruises the handcuffs had left on her wrists. She tried to recall what had happened after Kelly had shot her. She remembered hearing the sound of Kelly’s footsteps approaching her after she had closed her eyes. In that moment she had known her only chance was to play dead. She hadn’t dared to take even the weakest breath. Within minutes she had become trapped in her own doings, but it had worked.

  “The paramedics who arrived at the apartment had a rough time keeping you stable due to all the blood you’d lost. It was only after they got you to the Hospital that I knew for sure I wasn’t going to lose you.“

  Sharon smiled at him. It was one of those rare moments where Rob had taken off his cloak of authority.

  “That’s it. Twenty-four hours have passed since then. It’s safe to say that you’re out of the danger zone, but your body is filled with pain killers.“

  Oh, so that’s why I feel like I’m hovering above a cloud or something . . .

  “The doctor said you have to stay under observation for a couple of days and then take it easy.“ Rob stared at her. “Is that clear? You are not going back to work before the end of the month.“

  “Oh, no. Oh, no.“

  “Sharon. I don’t want to hear one more word about this.“

  “No, Rob. It’s not about that.“

  “Then what?“

  Suddenly, it all came flooding back. Rob didn’t know Kelly was the one who had shot her. Sharon hadn’t had a chance to talk to him before she’d come back to New York.

  “Kelly Danes . . . She was the one who . . .“ Dryness overtook her mouth. It was harder than she’d thought, admitting that someone had shot her.

  “I know,“ Rob said tenderly and held her hand.

  “What are you saying?“ She was certain Rob hadn’t understood what she meant.

  “I know she was the one who did this to you.“ He, too, could not bring the words to his lips.

  “How do you know?“

  “After I listened to the message you’d left me the night before, I decided to conduct an investigation of my own,“ Rob explained. “I realized Kelly Danes was probably hiding more than she’s telling, so I decided to pay her a visit. But when I arrived at her office, I was told she had taken a sick leave, for the first time since she started working there. Already something seemed suspicious. I tried calling her cell, but there was no answer. I decided to check whether she was at home, even at the risk of the commissioner suspending me for misconduct.

  “When I got there, nobody answered the doorbell, but I noticed the door was already slightly ajar. I entered and called Kelly’s name while scanning the premises. The house looked squeaky clean, but when I got to the bedroom I noticed that in comparison to the other rooms, it was a total mess. Clothes on the floor, empty hangers in the closet, and the absence of a toothbrush in the bathroom ignited my suspicion. Something was odd, no doubt, but other than that it seemed as though I had reached a dead end. Kelly had disappeared.

  “When I went back to the main floor I saw the staircase leading down to the basement and decided to take a look; down there I found an empty space surrounded by mirrors, which was a bit bizarre but nothing more.“

  He paused and cleared his throat. “As I was heading back up, I spotted a tiny stain on the wooden floor that looked like blood. I could no longer let Miss Kelly Danes enjoy the benefit of the doubt, so I called the forensic team. They confirmed what I already knew – it was blood. I realized that you had been right all along. I asked them to compare the new sample to the DNA samples of our victims, and this morning they called me from the lab to notify me that a match was made with Julie Tyfer, the last victim.“

  “Rob, you’re awesome.“

  “No. You are awesome. I never should have doubted you. You have never failed me, and look at you now . . .“ Rob shook his head.

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself, even for one second,“ Sharon implored.

  But the look in his glistening eyes made it clear to her that he was taking full responsibility for what had happened.

  “Anyway,“ said Rob, “right after I left Kelly’s house I called you, but your cell went straight to voicemail. I figured your flight had already landed several hours ago, and, as well as I know you, it didn’t make sense that you hadn’t already bothered me with dozens of calls in order to find out if I had done what you’d asked,“ he smiled warmly. “I told myself that maybe you wanted to get some rest after the flight, but something just didn’t feel right. After all the recent discoveries, I decided not to take a chance and went to check up on you, even if it turned out to be just a paranoid hunch.“

  Sharon suddenly remembered the flight back to New York. And Chris. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “When I arrived at your apartment and saw the door was already open, I knew right away that something had happened. And then I found you there, bound to the chair. Bleeding . . .“ The words choked in his throat.

  “Rob. Don’t worry. I’m okay.“

  “I know. If there’s anyone who is able to decide they don’t feel like dying and get out of it alive, it’s you.“

  Sharon chuckled. It hurt. Especially in her ribs.

  “That’s it. I’ve already sent dozens of patrol cars after Kelly, but it seems as though she’s vanished, without a trace.“

  I just need to kill the bitch, and then they can do whatever they want with me.

  She had to stop her.

  “I need to get out of here.“ Sharon carefully tried to push herself into a sitting position, but the pain pierced through her instantly.

  “For God’s sake, are you still trying to drive me over the edge, even now? You’re not going anywhere.“

  “Oh, yes I am. I know where Kelly is.“

  CHAP
TER 29

  The drive was not as tedious as Kelly had expected it to be. Although she was used to the convenience of her luxury car, and didn’t particularly care for the stale smell in that piece of junk she’d traded for at the used car dealership, she thanked God for the automatic transmission – otherwise she would have been arrested long ago. Her Jimmy Choos were not built for extensive clutch use.

  She missed her Mercedes. She became nauseated just thinking about the greedy grin on the car salesman’s greasy face. It made her sick to her stomach thinking that some lousy low-life would get to drive a car that had been intended for someone of the likes of her.

  Oh, the sacrifices you have to make when you’re a fugitive.

  Kelly felt like one of those medieval women who’d been falsely accused of witchcraft just because they were too clever, too opinionated, too righteous. Why couldn’t anyone understand that she was actually doing the right thing?

  In a perfect world, not only would I not be accused of anything, I’d get a medal, too . . .

  She watched the road with glinting eyes. Just like those wretched women, who were penalized despite their innocence, she, too, was being persecuted, a death sentence floating over her head; she was being unjustly portrayed as a witch. Now she would have to spend the rest of her life on the run. She may have dodged the death penalty, but she had lost her life and everything she held dear. She was condemned to a life of solitude; one without her prestigious job, without the glory and admiration that followed. She would probably have to undergo additional plastic surgeries to conceal her identity, after she had worked so hard to transform herself in the first place. And, worst of all, she could never kill again. Gloria’s dying moment would become her peak, from which she could only descend. She would be left with nothing but sweet reminiscences, which would eventually dim as time passed.

  Suddenly, the image of Sharon Davis, moments before she’d been shot, appeared before Kelly’s eyes. She lost her concentration and swerved to the right. Kelly tried to shake the image of the stubborn cop out of her head. Even in death, Detective Davis would not give her peace.

  The attempt to clear her conscience of the detective’s murder hadn’t worked very well. Sharon had been right. How could she justify killing a cop, whose only wrongdoing had been that she’d been doing her job too well? But there had been no other way. If Kelly hadn’t stopped her in time, she would not be able to reach that one moment she had been looking forward to for all these years – the moment when she would finally get her vengeance.

  Kelly tried to recall the loathing and hatred she had felt toward the cop in the last few days; emotions that further escalated the closer she got to her ultimate target. But now those feelings were almost completely gone. That night with the detective had changed something inside her, but Kelly knew it was her duty to forget about it and stick to the plan. The cop was already dead. What’s done is done. She tried to remember if she had read about her death in the paper. It was strange that there had been no mention of an NYPD detective’s murder in the news. She hadn’t had time to dwell on it, but tomorrow morning she would search the paper to make sure her buds of guilt were not in vain.

  Sharon Davis had to be dead. Kelly had felt her demise in every inch of her body: the dying shriek, followed by a deathly silence, stains of dark blood on her clothes, the tilted head. Kelly knew she had aimed that gun right at her heart. There was no way the cop could have survived it. Nevertheless, she would feel calmer after she verified it. Kelly could not face anymore obstacles, not when she had so carefully plotted every single detail of her perfect plan, not when she was so close to the end.

  She noticed the gas light had turned red.

  That son of a bitch didn’t even bother to fill up the tank . . .

  She stopped at a gas station by the side of the road, appalled by the possibility that people would think that this junky old car actually belonged to her. On the other hand, they weren’t any better; just plain, insignificant people.

  While a pimply faced man filled up the gas tank, Kelly entered the station’s minimart. She had a long drive ahead of her, and she could not afford to stop every time her stomach grumbled.

  The pickings were slim. Kelly was not used to greasy snacks and fast food, and the mere thought of having to eat it made her want to vomit. However, she didn’t want to pass out behind the steering wheel due to an empty stomach either. She promised herself that she would compensate for the poor food choices later, once she crossed the border and had put the greatest danger behind her.

  Kelly stood in front of the chocolate shelves and was appalled. Popular, cheap brands, considered delicious by the masses, repulsed her. Was this really some people’s miserable substitute for dessert?

  Who, for God’s sake, buys this crap?

  “Do you need some help?“ A stock boy asked.

  Kelly responded with a cold glare and walked away without saying a word.

  The chocolate shelves always let you down.

  CHAPTER 30

  “What do you mean? How do you know where she is? The entire New York Police Department is looking for her!“

  “I don’t know exactly where she is now, but I can tell you where she wants to go, who she’s looking for and when she will kill again. She told me everything.“

  “Are you serious?“

  “Yes. She thought I was going to die anyway, and it seemed like she was looking for someone to brag to . . .“ Sharon felt a slight tremor passing through her body when she recollected those last few minutes prior to what she had anticipated to be the moment of her death.

  “I can’t believe it. That bitch . . .“ Rob trailed off.

  “Finally made a mistake,“ Sharon completed.

  “It’s about freakin’ time. Tell me everything you know, and I’ll handle everything. In the meantime, I’ll send someone to collect your official testimony.“

  “No way. I’m not telling you squat until we’re in the car.“

  “Come on, Davis, you are in no condition to chase after a dangerous criminal, especially one that already tried to kill you!“

  “Listen, she’s about to kill again, and I know who.

  I don’t intend to lie down in bed like nothing’s happening. I have to stop this murder. I have to stop her.“

  “Sharon, if someone's life is in danger, it is your duty to tell me everything you know right away. I understand you want to catch her yourself, but right now it’s more important to prevent any additional bloodshed.“

  “Don’t worry. We have about three days. That’s more than enough time to get to New Zealand.“

  “What the hell are you talking about? What’s New Zealand got to do with this?“

  “That’s where Kelly’s headed. She figured we would be on to her, so she’s going to Canada first. And don’t bother trying to track her car by the license plate, because she has already replaced it, and her driver’s license, too.“

  “Goddammit, that lunatic really did think of everything.“

  “Except for the possibility that I’d still be alive,“ Sharon smiled grimly.

  Rob pressed her hand and she reciprocated with a determined squeeze.

  “If you call the airport right away we may be able to book tickets for tonight. It’s a long flight, but we can still arrive before Kelly. Until then, I promise to get some rest, but so help me God, I’m coming with you.“

  “Say, did you forget that you were shot less than twenty-four hours ago?“ Rob chided.

  “I’ll get over it. Besides, you need me. I know what has to be done in order to put an end to this whole thing, once and for all.“

  * * *

  As she continued driving west, the urban landscape transformed into green suburbs, and New York’s famed skyscrapers were replaced by great mountains. Large raindrops began to cover the windshield, making it difficult to drive, but Kelly kept smiling.

  All of this was so different from the wasteland where she’d grown up. As a child she could not stan
d the searing heat of summer, which in time had become an excuse for the revealing outfits of her classmates, leaving her behind, envious, trapped in her conservative clothes. During her youth she had so desired adulthood’s independence, to be able to detach herself from her former life. She used to wander through the vast deserts surrounding her small town, longing to escape through the enormous fields, disappearing from the constant torment that had invariably surrounded her.

  One of her favorite places to go had been the meteor crater – a gigantic, round cavity formed by an asteroid that had impacted the earth about fifty thousand years ago. Kelly used to sit there by herself, contemplating the emptiness all around her, finding comfort only in that special glow of the southern sun, moments before darkness arrived. At times she had continued sitting in the gloom, bursting with cries of frustration and anger, reenergized by the sounds echoing back to her.

  That place had not remained her private asylum for long. The local teens discovered the great potential of the secluded sight, away from the observing eyes of their parents. Soon enough it had become their favorite spot for getting drunk and testing their boundaries. Obviously, she had not been welcomed.

  Every time she had seen the beat-up cars heading over, and heard the rambunctious howls the lucky girls filled the quiet night with, she would hurry to make herself scarce. After a while, she had stopped going there completely. It was perhaps the only thing she missed about that awful town. She despised everything else that had anything to do with that rotten place, which was why she had never returned, not even once.

  Kelly hadn’t been the type of person who got along well with others. The social niches had been foreign and unnatural to her. She had always known she could only trust herself, and that was it. From a relatively young age, she had understood the massive gap between her and her parents. She did not belong there. She was better than all of them.

  She had fantasized many times that she was actually adopted, hoping it would explain why she detested her parents so much. They were the cliché of small town, simpleminded people – rustic, friendly, and naive – everything she loathed about that place. Even as a teenage girl, she had dreamed of the day she would leave that godforsaken town and arrive in a big city, perhaps New York or Los Angeles, where she would make it big. There she would be appreciated for who she was and not be seen as a weirdo. There she would fit in.

 

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