Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel (8 page)

S
haron sat at
her windowsill, peering out at the magnificent view of Manhattan, holding in
her hand a warm mug of homemade macchiato. She loved snuggling up in her blanket
with a cup of piping hot coffee, straight from the espresso machine, when it
was cold and rainy outside.

Like everything else in New York,
even the cold was intense. Sharon placed a hand on the transparent window and
felt the frost. The idea that the thin glass was all that separated her from
the outside made Sharon appreciate even more the hours of rest she spent in her
cozy apartment.

Sharon’s gaze landed on a large
raindrop slowly dribbling down the glass pane, while her thoughts were running
relentlessly. Sitting on the ledge of the windowsill overlooking the big world
always calmed her and put her mind at ease. It helped her to contemplate things
and consider options she wouldn’t have come up with in the pressure chamber
where she worked.

The view of the grand and
tireless city felt near yet far away at the same time. Sharon almost never took
advantage of the fact that she was living in a cultural center that was known
worldwide as a tourist magnet. A bitter sense of disappointment nipped through
her heart when she realized all those tourists had probably gotten to know the
city better than her, a longtime resident. When, for instance, was the last
time she had gone to a Broadway show? Or had visited one of the dozens of
museums the city had to offer? Or even had enjoyed some window shopping on
Fifth Avenue? It seemed as though the only attraction she visited on a regular
basis was Starbucks.

Sharon had trouble recalling the
last time she’d gone out to a good restaurant. It was probably months ago. She
usually ordered huge amounts of Chinese takeout and fed on the leftovers for
the rest of the week – and it was never a problem. But now, when she had a few
moments to herself, she began to feel the self-pity rising from the oblivion
within her.

The view seen from the window
merged with her reflection in the clear glass. She stared at her distorted
image but then quickly shifted her gaze and focused on a distant spot in the
horizon. Sharon never paid too much attention to her looks, although people found
her to be beautiful. In spite of that, she hadn’t gone on a date in months, and
the last time she had, it had been with a guy from work, a narcotics officer,
so there was no one to balance the madness. Needless to say it had turned out
to be catastrophic.

Sharon accepted the fact she was
a workaholic. She knew she should join a support group. Quit her job. Fly to
Paris without giving notice. Or perhaps, God forbid, take a sick day and spend
it in Manhattan. Sharon promised herself she would do each and every one of
those things.

Right after she cracked this
case.

She took another sip of the hot
beverage and felt it coursing through her body, as if it too were searching for
the answer she had been longing for. Sharon didn't have an actual reason to
treat Kelly Danes as a suspect, but her intuition would not let her give up.
Even the meeting that Kelly had initiated, on the grounds of allegedly
assisting, implied a cover-up attempt. Sharon felt as if she had reached a dead
end. She had to get results and fast, or else Rob might assign Bryant to the
case – and then the killer’s identity would remain a mystery forever.

Sharon had already read all the
documents that her
Probie
had managed to find
regarding Kelly Danes. She had hoped, for his sake, that he hadn’t missed
anything; he did not want to find himself on her bad side. Even her good side
was pretty rough around the edges.

Sharon browsed through the
documents a second time and still couldn’t find anything that caught her
attention, mainly because most of the information included things like fashion
reviews found in gossip columns discussing the outfits Kelly wore to various
charity benefits, and basic information such as her former addresses, marital
status, and copies of her tax returns.

Yeah, Sharon, that’s where
you’ll find the answer. Maybe you should arrest her because she filed her taxes
late?

Sharon groaned in desperation.
She realized that she couldn’t find whatever it was that she was looking for in
the police reports, and, as always, she had to take a risk or she could forget
about this case, because it would be assigned to someone else. Sharon took the
last sip of her coffee and placed the mug on the coffee table; then she reached
for the phone. She knew what she had to do.

When Sharon dialed Rob’s number
she desperately hoped he would not shut her down, but she knew that even if he
did, it wouldn’t stop her.

“Hello?“

“Hey, it’s Davis.“

“Goddammit, can’t it wait until
tomorrow?“

“No, I’m going to Arizona.“

“What the hell are you talking
about? Do I need to remind you that there is a serial killer on the loose?“

“That’s exactly why I’m going.“

“I don’t understand.“

“I’m going to meet Kelly’s
parents.“

“T
here’s no way
in hell that you’re going anywhere!“

“Rob, I’ve never been so sure of
something in my life. I have to go.“

“And who’s going to pay for that
exactly?“

“I will, with my salary. I’d
hoped that the department would, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll pay for it
out of my own pocket.“

“You do realize that you’re
crazy, right?“

“Yes.“

“This is your answer?
Yes?
No explanation or even an apology?“

“Okay, Rob, I’m sorry for being
crazy. But I’m still going.“

“I don’t understand. Didn’t we
agree that you wouldn't get involved with Kelly Danes anymore? Or shall I
remind you of my talk with the commissioner? I am telling you flat out:
You
are not going anywhere.
“

                                
 * * *

 
“Detective Davis,
would you like something to drink? I made fresh lemonade.“

“That sounds great, Mrs. Danes.
Thank you.“

“Mrs. Danes?“ A smile formed on
her face. “Please, call me Miranda.“

Sharon took another homemade
cookie from the stacked tray. Table manners were definitely not her strong
suit, nor was controlling her gluttony.

Kelly’s mother retuned to the
living room as Sharon was trying to find a napkin to wipe the cookie crumbs off
her lips. It wasn’t very professional to lead a conversation with a mouth full
of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, no matter how delicious they may be.

Miranda watched Sharon with
delight. “It’s been so long since someone has enjoyed my cooking. After Kelly
left it was just me and Harold, my husband, but he passed away a couple of
years ago from a heart attack.“

“What a waste,“ Sharon blurted,
lacking every bit of tact.

Miranda stared at her with a
confused look that conveyed a shortage of understanding.

“I meant, it’s a shame that no
one has had the chance to enjoy your delicious food.“ She hoped the compliment
would compensate for her bluntness. How many times had she told herself not to
fire out every single thought that went through her mind?

“That’s nice of you, dear. I
would love for you to stay for dinner. As always, I’ve made too much food. A
force of habit, I suppose.“

Sharon desperately wanted to accept
Miranda’s invitation, not just because the alternative was a tuna sandwich and
a pack of Pringles that she’d bought at the airport, but because she recognized
loneliness in Miranda’s eyes, the longing for company. It was clear that her
daughter did not visit often.

“We’ll see when we’re done,“
Sharon tried to avoid a direct answer. “I hope our talk won’t make you miss
dinner,“ she added with a smile.

Miranda smiled back. She was warm
and folksy, a typical small town woman, lacking the suspiciousness that
typically characterized city people. She may not have been the intellectual
type, but she sure had a huge heart.

Kind of the antithesis of
Kelly.

                                
 * * *

 
“Rob, I’m not asking
for your permission. I am telling you that I’m going, and I don’t care if you
don’t like it because the commissioner has you by the
balls
.“

Anyone else would have gotten an
immediate suspension, or at least a harsh reprimand. Rob, however, was used to
Sharon’s ruggedness, so he let it slide.

“Well, no wonder he has me by the
balls when you’re getting me in trouble all the time. Damn it, Davis, you are
the only one in this division I can trust with my eyes closed. Don’t play
tricks on me now.“

That last sentence, half a
warning and half a compliment, touched Sharon.

“Do you really think I would play
a trick on you? Why do you think I called you in the first place?“

“Okay. Then explain to me what’s
so interesting about Kelly Danes’ parents?“

                                  
* * *

“My Kelly has always worked hard. Even in elementary school
she used to sit for hours in her room, making sure she had done all of her
homework, even the optional assignments. She was an exceptional student,“
Miranda smiled proudly.

Sharon thought one thing: Kelly
hadn’t had any friends.

“Well, it’s not surprising, then,
that she’s gotten so far in life,“ Sharon replied. She couldn’t treat Kelly as
a suspect or question Miranda’s answers. She had told Miranda that Kelly had
known two of the victims from the notorious murders; therefore, it was
necessary to confirm that she was not in any danger. Sharon had explained that
she’d been sent here, on account of Kelly’s good relationship with the police
commissioner, to make sure there was no risk to her life. She’d said just about
enough to let Miranda connect the dots herself. Needless to say, the unsettled
mother was determined to help in any way to protect her daughter.

“Yes, perhaps even too far,“ she
mumbled without thinking. Sharon could hear the sadness in her voice. It was
obvious Miranda missed her daughter.

“Sounds like Kelly’s success in
school made some people jealous.“

“Maybe in elementary school, but
by high school nobody cared.“

“So Kelly was excluded because
she was more mature for her age?“

“I don’t think that’s why. Kelly
was always alone. She never fit in. She was a nice, quiet girl, so nobody
picked on her.“

The girl Sharon envisioned did
not resemble even one bit the woman that she had gotten to know. She almost
felt sorry for her.

“Was there another reason?“
Sharon could not help asking.

“Kelly was very insecure and kept
to herself. I don’t think she even tried to make friends.“

“Not even one?“

Miranda paused for a brief
moment. It seemed as if she was hesitating about something, not certain if she
was disclosing too much.

“Maybe one friend,“ she finally
said. Her eyes fixated on a framed photo of a mousy looking girl.

“Who is that?“ Sharon asked. She
hadn’t realized that Kelly had siblings.

“It’s Kelly.“

Detective Davis was stunned. The
graceless character gazing out of the frame was nothing like the woman Sharon
had met the other day. The look in her eyes was dreadful and timid, so
different from the belligerent Kelly she knew.

A true case of “The Ugly
Duckling“ . . . 

“She looks so different now,“
Sharon could not conceal her astonishment.

“Yes, I know. My daughter put
quite a lot of effort in creating a
new
Kelly. I’m not sure I have come
to terms with it yet, but after what the poor girl went through . . .“

“Excuse me?“

Miranda’s eyes revealed that she
had said too much.

                                
 * * *

 
“Listen, Rob, this
woman knows something. I can feel it in my bones. I have to find out what she
is trying to hide!“

“And you think
her mother
will tell
you
about her daughter’s deepest, darkest secrets?“

“I have no idea, but there’s
nothing else for me to do. I can’t just sit on my ass and wallow in the fact
that this case is going nowhere.“

“You really believe that the
mother of a magazine editor living thousands of miles away can help us in a
murder case?“

“Come on, you know it’s not like
it sounds.“

“It’s exactly like it sounds.“

“You’ve got me there, but we both
know that you’ll end up agreeing with me anyway, so can we just skip to that
part of the conversation? I need to start packing.“

“One night.“

“Huh?“

“That’s all that I can scrape
from the budget. You have less than forty-eight hours to find out whatever it
is that you’re looking for. After that you come straight back here.“

“You won’t regret it,“ she assured
him.

“I already am,“ Rob sighed.

If you can’t beat ‘
em
, join ‘
em
.

                                
 * * *

 
“It’s nothing. Forget
I said anything.“ Miranda shifted her gaze away from Sharon.

“Miranda, any information
concerning your daughter could help us keep her safe. There’s no way of knowing
how the mind of a serial killer works.“ Sharon hoped that planting a seed of
horror in the mind of the worried mother would lead to something.

“I’m sure
that
has nothing
to do with Kelly’s life today,“ Miranda asserted. “It happened twenty years
ago, so it’s really not relevant.“

Sharon quickly did the math.
1990
.

“What exactly happened?“

“I’m sorry, but I’m not
interested in discussing it. And I don’t think my Kelly would want me to talk
about it. If you think it’s important, you can always ask her.“

Only if I want Rob’s balls to
be removed permanently.

“No, there’s no need for that.
But I would love to see some more photos of Kelly. After all, she
is
the
editor of my favorite magazine growing up,“ Sharon smiled.

Miranda took the bait.