by Mary Bush
“You’re one sick bitch!” Val yelled.
Molly lunged forward with the knife. Val placed her arms up defensively, and the knife tore through her left hand. With her other hand, she swiped Molly across the face with a clenched fist.
The shock of the blow caused Molly to drop the knife and reach for the hand that hit her. She had Val’s wrist in her grasp and held firmly; she pulled back, twisting it as hard as she could.
Val screamed in pain, and tried to lash out, struggling as best she could, but the twisting continued; Julia wouldn’t ease up on her grasp. Val finally managed to break free, but not before she felt the snapping of bones.
“I’m sorry. Was that your bad hand or your good one? I can’t remember which one is which.”
Val cried out in pain, curling on the floor. Molly picked the knife up and came at her again. Val felt a burning sensation as the knife penetrated her arm and the warm oozing of blood as the weapon slid across her skin.
“I could have killed you already, but now I just want to make you suffer.” She sliced the knife again into Val’s arm and then her leg. “I’m going to filet you like a fish.” Each time the knife came at her, Val tried to defend herself.
In her fury of attack, Molly suddenly stopped and composed herself. Her lips curled into a sinister smile. She brought the tip of the bloody knife to Val’s face, turned it over and ran the blunt end down, not cutting her but leaving a trail of blood from the dripping weapon down her cheek.
“Where on that pretty face should I start first?”
She was close to Val this time and Val cupped the fingers of her undamaged hand into a fist and hit Molly across the jaw as hard as she could, stunning her for a second, but this was enough time.
The knife fell again.
Val picked it up, cowering defensively with it. Pointing it outward, shaking, afraid Molly would come at her. She didn’t have to wait long. Molly ran forward.
With what little strength she had left, Val lifted herself up and plunged the knife into Molly’s chest. Her eyes were wide and locked on Val’s as the knife went in. Her hands went to the knife as she collapsed to the floor.
Val hobbled out of the room. Gwen! Where’s Gwen? Val found her on the bed in the room next door. She felt for a pulse; there was one, a strong one.
Val rushed down the stairs as quickly as she could, almost falling several times. She could barely feel her gashed leg anymore. Her phone was in the living room and she needed to get to it. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she noticed someone lying on the kitchen floor. She limped forward, her heart racing. As she got closer, she nearly collapsed. It was Howie, lying in a pool of blood.
“Oh my God no!”
She felt for a pulse and found one. It was weak. He was still alive but barely. He tried to talk. His lips moved but what little sound came out was incoherent.
Val shushed him. “Howie, save your strength. Don’t talk.”
“I… have… tell… Val…”
“Howie, not now! I’m going to get help for you,” she said frantically. She needed to call an ambulance.
Blood dripped from Val’s leg. She was dizzy and stumbled to the living room where she left her phone on the couch. She grabbed it then staggered back to the kitchen, to Howie. Her fingers acted like they were moving in slow motion as her brain tried to instruct them to push the numbers.
“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator responded.
“Help. I’ve been stabbed,” Val’s voice whispered. It was all she could get out.
She collapsed to the floor, barely conscious now. The phone still in her hand, the dispatcher was yelling in the background.
“Ma’am! Ma’am! Are you there? Stay on the line! Help is on the way!”
Val dropped the phone. A pool of red was beneath her. She was bleeding out.
She pictured Dr. Blythe filling out his report. “Cause of death: exsanguination. Manner of death: homicide.” She pictured herself lying on the cold steel table of the morgue.
She turned her head and looked at Howie. He was lying next to her on the floor. His eyes blinked and his chest rose up and down, and then without warning, both movements stopped. His body appeared lifeless. His head was turned to the side with eyes fixed in her direction, chest still. She had seen this look enough to know what it meant. She tried to reach out to touch him, but her hand wouldn’t reach.
There was a slamming of car doors and a commotion of people in haste. Lights flashed in her windows and sirens were reeling.
Val’s back door flew open. Emergency medical technicians rushed to her side and immediately started to inspect her wounds. Another technician went to Howie and felt his carotid for a pulse.
“He’s dead,” Val tried to tell the E.M.T. No sound came. The man pulled his finger from Howie’s neck and came over to Val, but she couldn’t speak: she was starting to lose consciousness.
People began to shout. She had no idea who they were.
“Jesus Christ! Get a tourniquet on that leg now or she’s not going to make it.” It was last thing Val heard before the room went dark.
42
Val stayed in the hospital for almost a week. She recovered quickly and the doctors were pleased. She’d have scars on her leg and would have to walk with the aid of a cane for a while, but it looked like she would have no permanent nerve damage. Her wrist was broken. The doctor said physical therapy would help with recovery, giving her back any lost mobility. Val wasn’t optimistic. She’d heard that story before.
Right now, three weeks later, she stood outside of the one-way glass of the interrogation room. There was no way she was going to miss this. Molly Dolan was being questioned by Detective Gavin. Val wasn’t allowed in. Which wasn’t a bad thing. She didn’t want to be in the same room with that woman, even if Molly was wearing restraints.
Molly had been released from the hospital that morning. She sat at the interrogation room table dressed in an orange jumpsuit, her hands shackled to the belt around her waist. Her lawyer and a psychiatrist sat on either side of her.
“What’s your real name?” Gavin asked.
“Molly Dolan.”
Gavin sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “DNA says you’re not.”
“Your tests must be wrong.”
“That’s impossible.”
Molly laughed wryly. “You’ve been wrong before, Detective Gavin.”
“Not this time. You’re not Julia DeHaviland. You’re not Molly Dolan. And you’re not Lorelei Sebastian. Who are you?”
“If you don’t believe I’m Molly Dolan, that’s your problem not mine,” she said with an amused smile. “I can show you all types of physical documentation.”
Gavin slammed his hand down on the table. He knew this was going to go nowhere. This woman was a narcissist and a psychopath. Probably the coldest and most calculating one he’d ever seen. She actually gave him the creeps as she sat innocently smiling in a challenging manner, daring him to try to place a name on her face. He stared at her, trying to picture the Julia DeHaviland he knew. The woman he liked and respected. All he could think about was how she’d fooled him. The sheer mastery at deception, the ruthless and emotionless killer hidden just under the surface, was frightening. Jesus, you really don’t know the people you associate with.
Molly narrowed her eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts, perhaps to stay one step ahead? Beat him at his own game. It wasn’t going to work. This ended now.
“Whatever you want to call yourself, it doesn’t matter to me because you’re going to prison regardless. I don’t care what your name tag reads when you get there.” With that, he got up and exited the room and entered the adjoining one where Val was standing, waiting for him.
Val didn’t turn her head when Gavin came in. She couldn’t keep her gaze off Molly, who was staring right at Val. Slowly Molly cocked her head, narrowed her eyes, and curled her lips up in a smile. It was as if she knew Val was on the other side of the glass. The reacti
on sent shivers down Val’s spine.
Gavin grabbed the cord for the window curtain and pulled it shut. “Val, don’t look at her anymore. That’s what she wants. She wants to control the situation. Control you.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Val said, terrified. The thought of Molly loose was more than she could handle.
“She’ll be arraigned, then without doubt, tried and convicted. Then hopefully sentenced to prison for the rest of her life.”
“What about an insanity defense?”
“Of course, they’ll try that. We just have to be ready for it.”
“Will you ever be able to find out who she really is?’’
“Her DNA is in no database and her fingerprints are not on file. So, it’s unlikely, unless someone who knows her comes forward and says who she is. Then we can test her DNA against that person. But honestly, it doesn’t matter if we know who she is because we know what she is.”
“She’s pure evil.”
“Of the most dangerous kind. This kind of criminal enters people’s lives unsuspectingly and steals them easily. She has no conscience, is manipulative, and can gain someone’s trust easily. It’s anyone’s guess how many identities she’s stolen. Hell, she herself probably doesn’t even know who she really is. Chameleons, that’s what this type of psychotic is called. It’s so rare to catch them. Val, you’re damn lucky to have escaped her.”
“Thomas was well enough to travel home yesterday,” Jack said on the way to the airport. “He should be resting for a few more weeks, but if I know him, he’ll be at it by tomorrow. We have a case waiting for us when we return.”
“Is there a time when you two never have a case?” Gwen asked jokingly.
“When the time comes, that’s the time to retire,” Jack said. “I will say, this one with Colin was one of the more challenging in a while. We couldn’t have done it without you, Val.”
“That’s because I had some very good teachers,” Val said. “What about Colin? How is he adjusting to what happened?”
“He might not be behind bars anymore, but he will be captive in other ways. He’ll be in quite a financial hole for some time. He’s still responsible for all of “Julia’s” debt, though he’s fighting it. Thomas and I have been partially paid, but I doubt if we’ll see the rest of it. He’s going to file for bankruptcy. Oh, by the way, Lauren left him.”
“I’ll bet that’s the smartest thing she’s done in a while,” Val said.
“So, Dr. Knight, what lies in store for you after your recovery? Are you eager to get back to your job at the medical examiner’s office?” Jack asked.
“With my job, I’ve been attacked, battered and then stabbed. Yes, I’ll have lovely stories for my grandchildren.” Val smiled when she added, “I can think of safer professions to have, but none quite as challenging. So, what’s in store for you and Thomas? You mentioned that you had a case waiting for you.”
“We received a phone call a couple of days ago to continue an investigation we were working on just before we came here.”
“What happened in this one?”
“We were looking into the possible murder of a man killed by arsenic poisoning. But, the levels of arsenic found were consistent with levels in the soil and in the drinking water. They weren’t high enough to kill him, or really make him sick for that matter. Only now the dead man’s adult son went missing last week and small bits of him were found just this morning in plastic bags floating in the local river.”
Jack glanced at his watch. “I’d better run if I’m going to make it through the security line in time for my flight.”
“Well, Jack Styles, maybe one day we’ll work together again,” Val said.
“Yes, perhaps we will.” He then hugged Val and Gwen goodbye.
Val watched Jack walk away. She turned to Gwen and found her colleague staring at her oddly.
“Val, there’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up for a while but never found the right time. I know if I wait any longer I won’t be able to do it.”
“What is it?” Val asked, her voice hesitating.
“It’s about Oliver Solaris,” Gwen said in a serious tone.
Dear god, here it finally comes. Val grew increasingly worried. This was the last thing she wanted to hear.
It seemed like forever before Gwen spoke. “The truth is I really didn’t know Oliver all that well. Actually, I barely knew him. I met him at a seminar and talked to him briefly. He was such a nice man, so willing to help and he really believed in giving someone a chance. He mentioned there was a position available at the Erie County Medical Examiner’s Office. I wanted so much to change professions that I jumped at the possibility. I hope you don’t hate me for lying.” Gwen smiled sheepishly. “It all worked out in the end because they gave the job to you over me anyway.”
Val looked at Gwen for a second and then burst out laughing. “Then, you knew him better than I did, because I didn’t know him at all!” Val confessed everything. “If he believed in giving someone a chance, he gave that to both of us. Well, me unintentionally.”
Gwen grabbed Val in a big embrace. “Cheers to Oliver Solaris!”
THE END
Acknowledgements
My deepest gratitude to Bloodhound books for being willing to give me, an unpublished author, an amazing chance. Thank you to Betsy Reavley and Fred Freeman, Tara Lyons, Clare Law, Heather Fitt, and the rest of the editorial, design and publicity team. You are fantastic. I can’t thank you all enough at Bloodhound for bringing A Simple Lie out in the world and helping me make it the best it can be.
Thank you to all who gave me information and advice on drugs and medications that are outside of my area of expertise. I did tweak some of the details—don’t want to give anyone any ideas now—so, don’t try this at home! Being a Buffalo NY native I did keep the geography and locations as accurate as possible but some places were changed and or invented as necessary. Also, thank you to those who’ve helped me with my forensic questions. I tried to keep the facts as real as possible. Any errors, or stretches of the imagination, are my own. Fiction is as fiction needs.
For my late brother Michael, who read early drafts of this novel and made excellent comments and gave me spot on advice. Mike, the changes have been made. I still have your edited documents and will always cherish them. Cancer is an ugly disease and hopefully one day we’ll find the cure. For today, we still fight the battle. And to my mother, who continually cheers me on, it’s finally happened!
Thank you to my dear friend, colleague and “partner in crime”, Dr. Ray Miller for your encouragement and advice, being willing to lend an ear when needed and just giving all around support. Don’t worry, I’ll give your character a dog soon. I think I promised that a while ago. English bulldog, right?
To my friends, colleagues, co-workers, former and current students at UB, the encouragement you’ve given is amazing. Thank you all!
Finally, to my husband Peter, who after reading early drafts of my book, brought home a computer, set up our spare bedroom as an office, and made me become serious about being a writer. You believed in me, my characters. My writing. Thank you for your dedication, love and support. I couldn’t have done this without you!
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