True Evil_A fast-paced psychological thriller that will keep you hooked
Page 19
I shot off the floor. I had to get the hell out of here now. It was only a matter of moments before the police would get here and have me arrested. If Ariel and Shane had my journal, it would be a waste of time trying to pin Ariel’s attempted murder on Jordan.
No one would buy it.
I sent Jordan a quick text, using my burner: Leave the cookies in the backseat.
There was a knock on the door to my office then. Before I could say “Come in” or anything else, the door swung open and James appeared in the doorway. Two men in suits stood behind him. Quickly, I kicked the burner phone I used with Jordan under the nearest sofa. He would toss it out later.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Friedman, but these men are insisting on talking to you,” he said, looking apologetic. “I couldn’t say no. They’re from the NYPD. I tried, I—”
One of the men pushed aside James, making him shut up, and walked into the room, the other one following closely behind. The first man waved a wallet with NYPD credentials clearly visible, while the other pulled out a pair of handcuffs from inside his jacket.
“You’re under arrest, Mrs. Friedman,” the first man stated, the other one coming around me, cuffing my wrists. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used…”
I zoned him out right there. It was over.
48
Shane
Four months have passed since Mom was arrested and taken into custody for attempting to murder Ariel. Much to my aggravation but not surprise, she hasn’t confessed to having murdered the librarian and the psychologist I had been convicted of murdering. She hasn’t admitted to having set me up despite that she has written about it in her journal. Written about it in detail. She keeps claiming it was just her fantasizing.
The only thing she has confessed to was having tried to make me attack Ariel, induce a heart attack so that he would die. Ariel was tested for anthracyclines, the drug she had mentioned in her journal, the day after she was arrested, and there had been lots of it in his blood. They found chocolate chip cookies in Mom’s office laced with the drug, as well as in the backseat of the town car. She had given a few of the cookies to Ariel before he left to meet up with me. He ate a couple with his coffee as usual. Ariel’s and James’s testimonies that she had prodded me repeatedly about Sophie, who didn’t exist, and the call from her burner phone provided more proof of her guilt. Coupled with all that Steve, not to mention Ella Stoyanova, had to say about Mom renting the apartment above me, the evidence was overwhelming.
She didn’t admit to anything else, though. She insisted that all the other stuff in her journal, the many murderous scenes, were all made up just like the ones she had set me up for. They were all based on murder cases she had read about over the years. It was sent over to the FBI for them to investigate further, as, of course, no one believed her. For one, she had been in the area of all cases. She refused to tell us who her secret lover was, Mr. X. In fact, she insisted Mr. X didn’t exist. She claimed she had called me herself on that Jersey burner phone, pretending to be a strange man. She had used voice-changing software on the phone. Unfortunately, the police had not been able to locate the device, so there was no way for them to verify her claim.
She confessed to trying to murder her husband rather easily. She and her lawyer must think that she’ll get a more lenient sentence because of it. Like, she’ll be sentenced to 20 years instead of to ten life sentences without the possibility for parole for all those murders. The thing is, even if she does get only 20 for attempted murder, she’ll remain in maximum security prison until she dies. See, it’s only a matter of time before the FBI will have dug up enough evidence tying her to the other murders, and then she will go back to court to stand trial for those. My name will be officially cleared then. I can’t wait for that day.
Her trial will start in two weeks. Since the FBI is still working on connecting her to all the murders in the journal, this trial will only be for her attempting to kill Ariel and trying to pin it on me.
I’m on my way to visit her at the Rose M. Singer Center at Rikers Island where she’s being held. It’s the fourth time I’ve come to see her. She was happy to see me the first times, claiming that the women at the center had helped her find God. She knows she has behaved badly, and she is hoping that I will be able to forgive her one day for all the pain she has put me through. She wants to be redeemed. She stressed that during each visit, how important salvation was to her.
I want to believe that she is being sincere about her change, but I know who I am dealing with. Maybe, just maybe, if she keeps up the same charade for the next ten years, I will consider believing her.
I’m not coming to visit her because I want to see her. I’m only coming because I have nightmares about her having somehow escaped prison. I need to make sure she is still behind bars. I need to see that with my own eyes. I will keep coming until the day she dies.
Except today I won’t get to see her. I’m being informed that visiting hours have been canceled because of a big leak in the ceiling. I have to come back next week. I thank the woman behind the counter for the information, and then I turn to leave. I can’t say I’m very sorry. I’m not enjoying being in the same room as my mom. Two male prison guards walk past me, one black and one white, both tall and well-built.
As I walk out of the center, I think about how I for a couple scary seconds thought the white prison guard was the driver Mom had used to pick me up at Ramsdale several months earlier. But obviously that wasn’t Jordan. I think that was his name. Yes, it was Jordan. Jordan is still working as the driver for Ariel and Neera. Ariel mentioned that Jordan was driving them to the studio so I could paint their portrait as recently as last evening.
I smile bittersweetly to myself. That must have been another hallucination then because that guard really did look like Jordan. I hope I’m not about to have another psychosis. No, I am probably fine. With the exception of the occasional nightmare, I feel and sleep better than ever now that Mom has been caught and put in prison. Dr. Navarro, who I’m still seeing, has warned me that I might experience minor “residual hallucinations” stemming from my old psychosis. But they are nothing to worry about. I should just ignore them if it happens.
I wouldn’t mind having some residual hallucinations in which Sophie appears. I miss Sophie a lot. Despite that I know now that she was just a dream girl my mind conjured up, I think about her every now and then. She felt so real. I really hope I’ll meet someone one day that is like her. I feel I deserve for that to happen to me.
I go down into the underground subway station, forgetting all about the guard. Instead, I start imagining that a real-life Sophie will appear on the train, ask to sit beside me.
It’s not until four days later that I think of that guard again. When I watch the news and learn that, somehow, Mom has managed to escape from the Rose M. Singer Center at Rikers Island. I stare at the TV, refusing to believe what I’m seeing and hearing. This has got to be just another hallucination, I tell myself. Of course it is. How can it not be? Even so, I find my phone and dial Ariel’s cell phone number. I need to be reassured Mom’s escape hasn’t actually happened. The old man picks up on the third ring.
“You heard?” he asks me, sounding tense. “She’s out.”
I feel suddenly dizzy, like I’m about to faint. “What did you say?” I whisper.
“Jen has escaped from prison. This morning. I was just about to call you. They think someone inside the prison helped her.”
I sink down on my couch and rest my head in my hand. I want to throw up. “Ariel, does Jordan still work for you?”
“Jordan? Why do you ask? No, he quit a month ago. George is driving me now. Didn’t I tell you he quit?”
“No, you told me Jordan was driving you the other day. Yesterday too.”
“I keep mixing up their names. Jordan doesn’t work for me anymore.”
“No, he works for Rikers now. As a prison guard.”
Afterword
&n
bsp; Thank you for reading TRUE EVIL. The third and final book in the trilogy will be out in early June. If you want to receive notices about my book releases, click HERE to join my mailing list. Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed this story, please review it at your vendor. Even if it's just a sentence or two. Click HERE to leave a brief review.
Also by julia derek
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BLOOD EAGLE (Historical Thriller)
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Sins of the Past
Deadly Dreams
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A Criminal Mind
Mortal Sin
THE DIARY (Psychological Thriller)
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THE GIRL UNDERCOVER SERIES
Girl Undercover
Denial
The Truth
Showdown
THE META-HUMAN SERIES (Thriller)
The Crucifier
The Joker
The Traitor
The Scientist
DUPLICITY (Prequel to the Girl Undercover Series)
Duplicity
THE SMILEY KILLER (Companion book to the Girl Undercover Series)
The Smiley Killer
The Celeste Jones Paranormal Mystery Series (Cozy mysteries)
Haunted Hardbodies
Spooky Hardbodies
Ghostly Hardbodies