Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel (13 page)

T
he 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. 

“W
hat 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 stand 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.

Eventually, she had left. Ran
away, to be exact; but it was nothing like she'd planned. Kelly
had
to
leave. She couldn’t bear the shocked, demeaning, pitying looks anymore. One
might say that the shame had vanquished her. The stolidity with which her
parents had supported her leaving also strengthened her feeling that she was
doing everyone a favor.

 Her life was never easy and
probably never would be. For every single thing she had accomplished, she had
shed blood, not like those girls she had grown up with, particularly one
extremely beautiful girl.

Bottom line, she thought, what
doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
However, those who don’t get stronger
should die
. Now it was Gloria’s turn. Kelly tried to clear her head of
these dark thoughts; she had to concentrate on the drive. She would have enough
time to indulge in thoughts of sweet revenge during the long flight to New
Zealand. She could not fall apart, not when she was so close to the end.

                                
 * * *

As always, Sharon ended up getting her way. Rob had agreed
that she could join him, provided that once they got to New Zealand, she would
stay at the hotel and get some rest. The doctor had explained that any form of
strenuous activity would put pressure on the stitches and could easily reopen
the wound, which was very dangerous considering the amount of blood she had
already lost. Sharon had reluctantly agreed. She didn’t
really
mean it,
but she had agreed.

Before Rob left to finalize all
the necessary arrangements for them to catch the earliest flight, Sharon had a
special request.

“Don’t you think it’s too much?“
he asked her, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “Your friends will read
it . . . your family . . .“

“There’s no other choice. This is
war and sacrifices have to be made.“

“But do you really think it’s
necessary to have a story in the newspaper about your murder?“

“Yes. I know Kelly. I’m sure that
she’ll look for proof of my death. If nothing is published by tomorrow, she
will get suspicious.“

“Okay, I’m on it.“

If this were a game of chess, one
might say that Sharon had gotten one step closer to taking Kelly’s queen.

“S
he wants to
kill who?“

Rob was shocked. Not simply
because he had just found out that the world’s most famous model was a
potential murder victim, but also due to the fact that only yesterday her name
had popped up on his search screen.

 “You heard me right. Gloria
McIntyre. The model,“ said Sharon, trying to adjust her pillow and sit up
straight. Rob was sitting at her bedside and got up to help her. Their flight
was scheduled to leave in a few hours, and the doctor had ordered Sharon to
stay in the hospital until then.

“And how is Kelly planning to do
that exactly? The woman must be surrounded by dozens of bodyguards!“

“As long as you’re not
exaggerating . . .“ she dismissed him, although a similar thought had gone
through her mind not so long ago.

“You know what I mean,“ Rob
muttered.

“When will you finally realize
that this woman is always two steps ahead? She has managed to pave her way to
the murder of the world’s most famous model.“

With all of that ingenious
tenacity, she could have been the first female president of the United States .
. .

“So you’re telling me that Gloria
McIntyre is in New Zealand right now?“

“Exactly, and not by chance.
Kelly organized the campaign for her to shoot over there.“

“What campaign? How you can
literally shoot a model to death?“

“Rob, don’t forget we are dealing
with the Editor in Chief of Inner Beauty magazine. She had at her disposal all
the necessary means to orchestrate this whole thing.“

“I guess you’re right,“ he was
compelled to agree.

Sharon laid out before him every
detail that Kelly had told her that night, starting with the sophisticated way
in which she had deceived Gloria into leaving the country, and ending with the
confession that all of her previous murders had only been in preparation for
this one.

“We have to contact Gloria. Call
her agency. Her manager. Her grandmother. Her gynecologist. I don’t care who.
We have to find Gloria, before Kelly does.“

By sunset they were on their way to J.F.K airport. Rob was
driving and Sharon was sitting in the passenger seat, trying to make sure her
bandages were properly secured. Bleeding to death was the last thing she needed
right now; she simply had to get on that plane.

In the few hours remaining before
the flight to Christchurch, Rob had been in a frenzy trying to find even a
single scrap of information that could lead to Gloria’s exact whereabouts. But
he hadn’t come across a single lead. She didn’t have any close family beside
her mother, who had passed away a few years back. Gloria’s friends hadn’t known
exactly where she was, being used to her frequent travels. The only person that
did know, her personal manager, Arthur Cohen, had gone along with her. They had
a few phone numbers – Gloria’s, Arthur’s, and Andy Swain’s, the photographer –
but when Rob and Sharon had tried calling, their calls had all gone straight to
voicemail.

The relentless cops had tried
calling repeatedly, but with no luck. They contacted the local police
authorities in Christchurch, but they were clueless as well. The departure time
was getting closer and they still had nothing.

“It will turn out to be that this
entire trip was in vain,“ Rob grumbled and tightened his grip on the steering
wheel.

“Perhaps we’ll have a chance of
finding them when we’re actually on the same continent,“ Sharon noted wryly,
trying to remain optimistic in her own cynical way. Rob was too tense to play
along and just kept staring at the road.

“Hey, you know how much I want to
catch her,“ Sharon turned to him. “We won’t let anyone else die because of
her.“

“I hope so,“ his eyes lingered on
a distant spot on the road.

“Do you know what I haven’t
figured out yet? I just don’t know what has driven Kelly to wanting to kill
Gloria so badly,“ Sharon wondered aloud.

Rob chanced a glance at her but
quickly resumed his eyes on the road.

“I recognized Gloria from the old
photos, so obviously they have known each other for quite some time,“ she
continued. “But even before she shot me, Kelly refused to talk about it.“

“I know why,“ Rob said in a
frigid tone.

“You do?“ Sharon looked at him,
half surprised, half angry.

“Yes . . . I discovered the
horrible thing that happened to Kelly all those years ago.“

“And you’ve waited all this time
to tell me?“

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve had
other pressing matters to take care of.“

“You’re right. I’m sorry.“ Sharon
turned her gaze toward the window, still upset.

They both were silent, lost in
their own thoughts. Sharon didn't know if she should learn what had happened to
the woman who had tried to kill her. All of the startling revelations she had
uncovered in the last few days had almost cost Sharon her life.

But she would have to survive one
last secret.

“Come on, will you tell me
already?“ she caved to her curiosity.

“Are you sure you want to hear
this?“

“Absolutely.“