Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel (19 page)

T
he red dot on the
GPS display flickered as a constant reminder of where they were destined. As if
they could forget.

Once again, they had to be caged
inside their rental car on their way to Kelly’s summer home. Rob may have
transformed their small Toyota into a speedy race car, but time was against
them, and they still faced another hour of driving.

At least Rob can focus on
driving, Sharon thought bitterly. She felt helpless, and she hadn’t felt that
way since . . .

Well, since Kelly had shot her
and left her bleeding to death.

I have to do something. I
can’t go on like this.

She took out her cell phone and
dialed.

“Who are you calling?“ Rob asked.

Sharon ignored him. “Hello. Can I
get Miranda
Whitesporte’s
number in Winslow,
Arizona?“

                                
 * * *

The smooth wine slid down Kelly’s throat while she listened
to classical music. She closed her eyes and gave in to the marvelous melodies
that filled the room, and pictured herself at Carnegie Hall. Kelly felt as if
she were on top of the world. Soon enough any remnant of her former loser self
would be erased, and she would finally get her big win.

Kelly looked around her. All of
this splendor was nothing compared to what would transpire here in just a
matter of time. She glanced at her expensive, custom-designed watch. The
princess was running late, of course. She had not expected that the novice
photographer would allow her to do so, but unfortunately she was well aware of
the strong influence Gloria McIntyre possessed over others, especially if they
belonged to the opposite sex.

In the meantime, she could use
the opportunity to unwind. She took another sip of wine and closed her eyes,
relishing its rich flavor, when suddenly the doorbell interrupted her
enjoyment. Now her eyes were wide open.

You always had such perfect
timing, Gloria . . .

                                
 * * *

Sharon was staring at her cell phone, unaware of Rob’s
demanding looks. They were supposed to arrive in about half an hour, but she
felt trapped in another time zone. Sharon could not believe how meaningful a
twenty minute conversation could be. She was still trying to absorb all the
details. Sharon felt as though after months of working to put together all the
missing puzzle pieces, they had finally come together to form a clear picture.

It had not been easy telling
Miranda that her daughter was a murder suspect, and in order to clear her
doubts, Sharon had told her about Kelly’s attempt to kill her. She had also
revealed Kelly’s plan to go after none other than the international model
Gloria McIntyre. She’d needed to make Miranda understand and cooperate as
quickly as possible, and it worked. Rob, who had only heard bits and pieces of
the conversation, did not understand what it was about.

“Sharon, what’s going on?“ he
demanded.

She finally put the phone down
and looked at him. “You are not going to believe this.“

                                
 * * *

 
“Hi, Kelly! I’m so
sorry we’re a little late. It was a long drive and we got a bit lost along the way.“
Andy thought that in this case a little white lie would benefit everyone.

“It’s not a big deal, really. It
gave me a little more time to relax after my flight,“ Kelly smiled, giving off
a fake warmth.

“Hello, I’m Gloria
McIn
–“

“Of course I know who you are,
dear. Come in.“

The couple followed Kelly into
the lavish house.

“You have a magnificent home,“
Andy gushed.

“Thank you. Unfortunately, I
don’t get to stay here very often. Working for the magazine doesn’t leave me
much time for long vacations,“ Kelly smirked.

Gloria felt herself detaching
from the conversation for a moment. Although she had never met Kelly Danes
before, there was something strangely familiar about her . . .

The look in her eyes.

“Excuse me, Kelly, have we met
before?“

Kelly froze. She was certain that
the litany of plastic surgeries that she had suffered through had completely
erased any resemblance of her former self.

She forced a laugh and looked
away, waving her hand nonchalantly. “I doubt it, darling, but you know how it
is. You’ve probably seen me at one media event or another.“

 “Yes, perhaps.“ Gloria had
the feeling that the renowned editor was trying to avoid a straight answer.

Kelly kept smiling at her.

It’s probably all in my head
. . . she told herself and kept following Kelly through the house in slow
steps.

                                
 * * *

Sharon told Rob everything she had just heard from Miranda
Whitesporte, and in the process she tried to digest the astounding information
herself.

Kelly had found out that Gloria
had sent her shady friends to mess with her at the carnival. She blamed Gloria
for being admitted. After nearly two months in the psychiatric ward, Kelly had
refused to stay in Winslow and decided to take off and start a new chapter in
her life. Her parents ached for her so they hadn’t stopped her from leaving.
Kelly’s best friend at the time, Vicky Hermont, was the only one who had
visited her during those dark couple of months. She had even followed Kelly to
New York in hopes of finding her, but Miranda had never heard from her daughter
if they ever had met.

Ever since her departure, Kelly
had never returned to her hometown, not to visit her parents, not even when her
father passed away a couple years ago. She had explained to her mother that she
could not deal with the trauma. Actually, in the last few years, she hadn’t
even bothered calling, but every now and then she would send letters or New
York postcards describing her various successes in The Big Apple. It was like
her past never existed. Kelly had refused to talk about what had happened and
her mother had decided to respect her wishes. Miranda couldn't tell what
exactly had transpired in that house of mirrors, the place where her daughter
had been found bleeding, beaten, and covered in lacerations.

Sharon wondered if Vicky Hermont
could shed some light on this dark turn of events. If she and Kelly were close,
she might be able to fill in the blanks where Miranda couldn’t. But it would
take time to track her down, a luxury they did not have. The GPS alert
informing they had arrived to their destination confirmed that.

They had just arrived to the
upscale neighborhood where Kelly’s mansion was located. There was a security
guard standing at the entry gate, checking the entering vehicles.

“Hello, where to?“

“New York Police Department.
Could you point us to Kelly Danes’ house? And hurry, please.“

“W
ould you like
something to drink? I bet you’ve had a long drive. I just opened an excellent bottle
of wine that I picked up on my way here.“

“Yes, we would love to,“ Andy
replied, oblivious to Gloria’s cautious behavior.

Kelly disappeared into the
kitchen and returned after a few moments with two wine glasses. The bottle was
already on the coffee table, along with her glass.

“Thank you,“ Gloria said politely
when Kelly poured the wine into her glass.

“You’re welcome, dear,“ Kelly
answered sweetly, staring at her. As their eyes locked, Gloria felt a sudden
flinch.

I’m positive I know her from
somewhere, but from where?

“Well, perhaps until the food
gets here we can look at the photos?“ Kelly proposed.

“Yeah, of course!“ Andy opened
his laptop enthusiastically. “They aren’t fully processed yet; some of them
were only taken yesterday. But they sure came out great.“ He looked at Gloria
with adoring eyes. Kelly wanted to puke. She immediately recognized the
lovesick puppy look in the photographer’s eyes. This loathsome woman did not
deserve to be loved.

Andy faced the laptop toward
Kelly and browsed through the pictures slowly. They were breathtaking. Kelly
wanted to smash the damn screen over Gloria’s head and kill two birds with one
stone.

“Absolutely wonderful,“ she
forced a smile. “I definitely see some photos with cover quality about them. I
can almost picture it . . .“

The last and final photo of
Gloria McIntyre, who would never be beautiful ever again.

“I’m so glad you like them. We
all worked very hard for it. I also have printed copies that I can leave for
you in the meantime.“

“That would be great,“ Kelly
tried to appear enthusiastic.

“Of course I’ll have to edit the
photos when I get back to New York, but even now, without any touch ups, you
can see the potential. It was an amazing experience working with a professional
like Gloria, you were right to insist on her.“

Kelly nodded quietly. She felt
she couldn’t let her lips fabricate yet another compliment.

It’s time.

“. . . And again, thank you so
much for having us over,“ Andy continued.

“Well, Actually, I had another reason
for inviting you here. Especially you,
Gloria
.“ Kelly savored every
syllable of her name, letting it roll off her tongue.

Gloria stared at her with a
surprised look.

“After more than a decade in the
journalism world, I have decided to return to my first passion, sculpting.“ Her
lips finally pronounced the words she had practiced repeatedly in her mind, her
cover story. “My work focuses mainly on sculpting the human body,“ she
explained. “In fact, my last work was a statue of your image,“ Kelly turned to
Gloria. “An old friend of mine who works at the Metropolitan Museum was very
impressed with it and offered to present it this spring as part of a special
exhibition examining the relationship between mass media and modern art.“

“Really? Are you serious?“ Gloria
was truly stunned, flattered, and bewildered all at once.

“Absolutely,“ Kelly nodded. “He
asked me to try to convince you to attend the grand opening, so that the
inspiration can be presented along with the actual piece, and thus illustrate
the exhibition’s motif. Besides that, there is no doubt that your presence
would spark interest among the public and attract a crowd.“

Gloria was speechless. She tried
to appear calm but she could feel the warmth of color invading her cheeks.

“I have to give him an answer as
soon as possible. Obviously, I wouldn’t ask for your consent without you seeing
the piece first. The statue is in my private studio downstairs.“

Gloria couldn’t believe what she
had just heard. If there was one place in New York where her image had not yet
appeared, it was the Metropolitan.

“So if you’re not ruling out my
request on the spot . . .“

And I know you won’t, you’re
too vain.

“. . . I would love to escort you
down to the basement so you can see it with your own eyes. It will only take a
few minutes. You can give me your final answer after you return to New York.“

In a coffin . . .

“I would absolutely love to see
it!“ Gloria was thrilled. She had been photographed thousands of times and even
had her portrait painted once or twice, but she had never been sculpted.

“Great.“ The smile that spread
across Kelly’s face was entirely real this time.

“Absolutely,“ Andy agreed. “Let’s
go.“ He eagerly pushed himself up from the antique couch.

Kelly did not intend to let the
idiot photographer ruin the most important moment of her life.

Keep on dreaming.

“Actually, the food I ordered
should arrive any minute now, and I’m afraid that if we don’t answer the door,
they’ll leave. Would you mind waiting here so we don’t miss them? I’m sure
you’re starving. I would feel terrible if the food were to be delayed for yet
another hour.“

It seemed as though the dilemma
of whether to soothe his empty stomach or see his beloved model immortalized in
stone really troubled him.

“Don’t worry, it won’t take more than
a few minutes. And after we eat, we can go back downstairs and I’ll show you my
other sculptures as well.“

“Well, okay,“ Andy reluctantly
agreed. He returned to his seat and poured himself another glass of wine.

As she left the room Kelly
swiftly turned up the volume of the classical music playing in the background.

It’s show time . . .

O
n their way to
the “studio,“ Kelly pondered the ironic situation she had created in order to
end the model’s life. The same vanity that caused Gloria to glow from the
thought that her image would be perpetuated in stone was currently leading her
straight to her death. Fate just had a sense of humor
to die for
.

The two women faced the heavy,
wooden door that Kelly had requested to be installed at the top of the stairs.
Kelly’s hands fingered the iron key in her trouser pocket – it was the only
copy.

Two went into the basement, but
only one would come out of there alive.

“After you,“ Kelly smiled at
Gloria, gesturing with her hand toward the dark flight of stairs.

                                
 * * *

The two detectives drove around the dark suburb, which was
remarkably quiet. Kelly’s mansion was at the other side of the neighborhood,
facing the Pacific Ocean.

“Drive faster!“ Sharon implored. She
was as tense as a bowstring.

“Sharon, if you don’t want to
miss the place, let me drive in peace!“

“Now you see why
I
wanted
to drive?“ she chided.

“Shall I remind you that the only
thing that’s preventing you from bleeding to death is an elastic band?“

“And still, I would get there
faster than you!“

Rob couldn’t stop himself from
sneaking a little smile. This woman was undefeatable.

They passed by the impressive
villas. The classic brick houses, painted in soft shades of ivory and mahogany,
were encircled by the vivid hues of their tended gardens. If she hadn’t been up
to her elbows chasing after a killer, Sharon might have been able to admire the
stunning architecture that surrounded her.

But that wasn’t the case.

Enjoy your last few minutes of
freedom, Kelly, because this time you won’t get away.

                                
 * * *

Gloria descended slowly down the stairs. Kelly had yet to
turn on the light.

I guess the light switch is
downstairs, she figured.

The studio was pitch black and Gloria
couldn’t spot the sculpture. She heard the wooden door slam shut and the lock
click, but she hadn’t yet suspected that anything was amiss.

Suddenly she felt a hand
clutching her shoulder, preventing her from continuing any further. Gloria
turned around, startled, and noticed Kelly standing a step above her. Even
though it was completely dark, she spotted a spark of madness glinting in
Kelly’s eyes. Only then she realized something was wrong, but it was too late.
Kelly pushed her down the stairs.

Gloria tumbled down and fell flat
against the rough wooden floor. The few moments she required to recover were
all the time Kelly needed. She picked up the pistol she had stashed ahead of
time on the shelf by the stairs, along with the roll of duct tape she had
bought at the hardware store. Then she flipped the switch.

Let there be light.

Gloria’s eyes were blinded by the
sudden glare and she covered them with her hands. After her eyes had adjusted,
she looked up and saw Kelly standing over her, grasping the pistol tightly; it
was aimed directly at her.

“Are you insane? What the hell is
going on here?“ Gloria asked, completely astonished.

“I would keep my mouth shut if I
were you. You don’t know what might make me pull the trigger,“ Kelly said in a
low, frozen voice.

Gloria paused. She had known from
the moment she’d met her that there was something strange about this woman.

“Andy! Help!“ she called in vain.

“Shut up!“ Kelly commanded. “It’s
not going to help you anyway. There’s no chance he can hear you from upstairs.
And by the time your
Romeo
realizes what is going on, it will already be
too late.“ An evil grin spread across her face.

“What do you want from me? What
did I ever do to you?“ Gloria struggled to understand.

Kelly’s face grimaced
involuntarily. “What did you
do
to me? Do you really want to know? You
ruined my life!“ she shouted.

Gloria scrolled the name “Kelly
Danes“ through her mind; it didn’t sound familiar, not even slightly.

But she knew for sure that she
recognized this woman from somewhere.

“Now move,“ Kelly commanded.

Gloria stumbled forward as she
lifted herself off the floor.

“Catch,“ Kelly threw the roll of
duct tape at her aggressively.

Fear, anger, and total shock overtook
Gloria. She caught the duct tape with trembling hands.

“Walk to the chair.“

Only then Gloria turned around to
face the room. The vast space, surrounded by mirrors, was almost entirely empty
besides a wooden chair stationed in the center of the room next to a small
table.

“Are you disappointed that your
beautiful sculpture isn’t here?“ Kelly taunted her. She felt almighty with the
gun in her hands.

Gloria stepped slowly toward the
chair, trying to stall so she could maybe figure out what the hell was going on
here.

“Hurry up!“ Kelly ordered.

Gloria reluctantly picked up the
pace and got to the chair.

“Now, sit down. Tighten your legs
against the chair and then wrap the duct tape around each leg separately, five
times around each.“

“What? No way!“ she exclaimed.

“Do it, or I’ll punch you from
here to Mississippi.“

Gloria unwillingly did as she’d
been told. Kelly oversaw her actions and forced Gloria to bind the duct tape
even tighter, until the skin above the tape strip turned red. After making certain
that Gloria was helpless from the waist down, Kelly carefully approached and
tied Gloria’s hands behind the chair. An overwhelming sense of
déjà vu flooded her. She recalled her last encounter with
Detective Davis; but this time, however, Kelly knew there would be no remorse.

“Well done, now we can proceed,“
Kelly said, pleased with the way things were going so far.

“Who are you?“ Gloria demanded.
“And just what do you think I’ve done to you?“

“You didn’t even bother to
remember me? After everything you’ve put me through? Well, what
can
you
expect from a model . . .“

“Who are you?“ she raised her
voice.

“If you really want to know . .
.“ Kelly put the pistol aside and picked up a knife from a line of various
knives and blades that were spread across the table. She approached Gloria and
pressed the knife to her neck.

“April twenty-fourth. 1990.“

“I don’t understand . . .“

“April twenty-fourth. 1990. The
spring carnival.“

Gloria’s face was frozen in
thought. The harsh realization of what had happened that day, almost twenty
years ago, began to appear on her delicate features.

“Do you recognize me now?“ Kelly
whispered in a venomous tone.

Gloria took a long, hard stare at
the woman standing before her. Her eyes were vicious.

“It’s me, Kelly.“

“
Who
?“

“Kelly Whitesporte.“

Gloria froze. “No. It can’t be.
You’re not her!“ she shouted at her.

“I have undergone a number of
plastic surgeries to look like this, so it may not be easy to recognize me, but
I assure you, it’s really me.“

 “That’s not true! I knew
Kelly Whitesporte. You’re not–“

“Shut up!“ Kelly snarled. “I’ve
heard enough out of you!“ She crudely tore off a thick piece of duct tape and
fixed it across Gloria’s mouth.

“Now it’s
my turn
to
talk.“