CHAPTER 21
The flash of Andy’s camera was merging with the fragile sunlight of the new day. Even though the photos from yesterday had come out well, to a great extent due to Gloria’s professionalism, Andy claimed that the daylight was too bright; therefore, they should start shooting at sunrise. Due to his meticulousness, or some would even say compulsiveness, everybody had to wake up before the clock struck four.
Andy was adjusting the camera lens while Gloria demonstrated a variety of poses, at times approaching the camera and sometimes pulling away, displaying flamboyant postures in some of them and choosing to express subtlety in others. Her sheer tiredness and lack of sleep were not apparent, neither in Gloria’s demeanor nor her appearance. Minutes after she’d woken up, Gloria’s “small beauty army“ had surrounded the model and made her absolutely stunning; but, just in case, she was still thankful for Photoshop.
Perhaps due to the criticism she was exposed to as a model, or maybe because she was simply a perfectionist, Gloria was not entirely pleased with herself. She had found peace with whom she was (that wasn’t so hard), but she could not stand her shortcomings. She might have to live with them, but she did not have to like them.
Arthur watched Gloria and Andy working together in perfect synchrony. They are a good team, he noted to himself. Usually Gloria would pick on the slightest things, but now she was letting Andy take the lead. And it wasn’t just for the camera; recently even Arthur had noticed that Gloria had let most of the little things go, those things that used to bother her so much in the past, and he credited this to Andy. As one of the few people who knew Gloria well, from every line on her hand to every slight wrinkle on her face (though he’d never drawn her attention to them, of course), Arthur knew how much Gloria tended to be hard on herself and felt relieved knowing that outside of him she had Andy by her side.
Arthur studied Gloria’s delicate movements while Andy’s camera lens perpetuated every graceful moment of her image, gazing at the view that encircled her. Gloria may have starred in dozens of campaigns, but this was definitely the highlight of her career, he thought, wholeheartedly. She had reached the very top.
Arthur wanted to cherish this moment of seeing Gloria at the peak of her beauty and maturity, despite the standard norms of the modeling field, which dictated that she was running out of time. He did not understand why exactly these thoughts were popping into his mind right now, but when he looked at her again, Arthur felt a subtle dampness starting to form in the corners of his eyes. Maybe he didn’t have to worry so much about his little star anymore. He flashed a big smile, and Gloria noticed him and grinned back, right before she turned her head back to the camera.
* * *
Andy just loved the way the translucent fabric of Gloria’s dress fluttered in the light breeze; it made her look remarkably heavenly. He remembered when they had been sitting together in his hotel room, debating which outfit to pick for the photo shoot. It already seemed like so long ago. It was hard to believe that it had been only a few short days, considering how far they’d come since then.
His heart still skipped a beat when he thought about the first time he had seen her, at that dull party, drawing all eyes toward her like a human magnet of beauty. He couldn't believe he had kissed the most beautiful woman in the world in the candy aisle of a gas station minimart, and he still asked himself if their passionate night together had been a dream or reality.
Could he really be in love? The smile that appeared on his face every time he touched Gloria, saw her, or merely thought of her, stated that he was. The last time he had been so enchanted by a girl had been when he was a seventeen-year-old boy falling in love for the first time; but it had been a childish, naive love that had ended as quickly as it had begun. This time it was different. It was real. He felt it deep down in his soul. He had hoped that this was not unrequited love, that he wasn’t acting like a stupid boy, being misled by his idol and eventually ending up hurt. Andy knew Gloria had many admires, that she lived the kind of life other people could not even dream about, and he wished to be a worthy candidate for her heart. When he had held her close, had kissed her neck and listened to her ever-accelerating breathing, he had dared to believe that he just might be.
Andy then reflected on the moment he had accepted Kelly Danes’ prestigious job offer, how excited he had been about what was yet to come: the national exposure that would launch his career, the ridiculously high salary, traveling to New Zealand and revisiting its breathtaking scenery. He had never imagined that, ultimately, what would make him feel most on top of the world would be . . . a girl!
There is no doubt women have an inexplicable mystical pull over humanity, he concluded.
CHAPTER 22
On her way back from Miranda’s house, Sharon still could not entirely grasp the tremendous transformation Kelly’s looks had undergone.
Surely there had been a great deal of plastic surgeries involved – a quantity that indicated self-loathing rather than the desire to be fashionable. Sharon couldn’t shake off the image of that small, mousy girl with her sheepish eyes staring back at her from the photos. The tragic image had been seared into her mind, not because it was extremely ugly or repulsive, but since it seemed as if every feature in Kelly’s face had been screaming for help. Her desperation managed to penetrate the photos.
Who the hell made you feel like that?
Sharon knew it was already too late; that poor girl did not exist anymore. From her ashes had risen a new woman, one who was forceful and dangerous. Sharon began to wonder how things would have turned out if . . .
She had gotten carried away in a sea of thoughts again; she had to clear her mind. She needed to forget about those old photos, they were not relevant to the case right now. But there was one more thing that bothered her: the image of a beautiful girl who could be seen in one of the pictures and somehow seemed vaguely familiar. Sharon tried to focus and think where she recognized her from. Was she an employee in Kelly’s office? Or perhaps related to one of the victims? She just couldn’t seem to recall.
Sharon pulled over in front of the roadside motel where she intended to spend the night. What interested her now was 1990. She had to figure out what had happened then, that had caused Kelly to transform herself from head to toe.
She opened the squeaky door marked 18. The room was small and dense, overtaken by a compelling odor of air freshener. The cheap, faded wallpaper had begun to peel off, revealing a crumbling wall and a cobweb that had maintained a status of honor – it seemed as though no one dared to come near it.
Sharon took one look at the shabby armchair, which surely had seen better days, and sat down on the bed instead. At least they have to change the sheets, she figured. She pulled the laptop out of her bag, along with a box of Pringles, immediately regretting for having to politely decline Miranda’s invitation for dinner. The lamp on the nightstand emitted a feeble, yellow light, like a dying man trying to take his last breath. On top of one of the two shelves in the room, next to the dusty Bible, there was a half-eaten Cheetos bag, left by the previous tenant, if not the one before.
Who, for God’s sake, leaves half a bag of Cheetos on a shelf in a hotel room?
At that point Sharon realized that she was getting distracted. She had to focus. She brushed off the Pringles crumbs that had fallen onto her clothes, opened her laptop, and prayed for a wireless connection. She didn’t even dare to blink as she stared at the screen.
Hallelujah!
She connected, but just barely; Sharon hoped that whoever’s Wi-Fi network she’d joined would stay online long enough for her to find what she needed.
She tried crossing Kelly’s name with the year 1990, but nothing came up. Even adding the name of her hometown, Winslow, didn’t surface any unusual incidents in relation to Kelly Danes. All she found were a few articles and a couple of interviews with the successful magazine editor. Not a single clue that would lead to a dark Pandora’s Box.
Kelly Danes, is
your influence so great that you even got Google on your side?
The Wi-Fi connection failed, and Sharon tried to open the search window again. She began to fear of the possibility of having to spend long hours in dense archives, though even then the odds that someone would have written about the doings of a small town girl in a New York newspaper were slim; unless it had been something really terrible. And if that were the case, she would have already seen it on her computer screen.
The apprehension that this whole trip might have been in vain began to nibble at her consciousness. Sharon couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Rob, or herself for that matter. She desperately needed something that would revive the case, which currently seemed as if it had reached a dead end.
It’s just so unfair.
Sharon decided to call Miranda and try to glean one more piece of information out of her, though she was not very optimistic that she could.
“Hello, Mrs. Danes?“
“You know, it’s pretty funny when you call me that.“
“Still too formal for you?“ Sharon chuckled.
“No, not because of that. It’s just that my last name is Whitesporte.“
CHAPTER 23
Kelly was sitting in her luxurious corner office, overlooking the panorama of the most powerful city in the world. She felt like a queen ruling over her subordinates with an iron fist, manipulating the commoners as if they were helpless puppets at her mercy. In a way, it was true. Kelly decided who deserved to live, and, far more important, who deserved to die. She held the fate of those buffoons in her hands and crushed it with pleasure.
Kelly admired the black bud that had sprouted within her, which had begun to blossom, only reaching its full glory in that special moment when the scaffold landed. What a shame that no one could appreciate her hard work. But there was no choice; it was a mission she had to execute on her own. Any other option would lead to her downfall. That was why it was her duty to neutralize anyone who might stand in her way.
So far she did well. Kelly had made the snooping detective believe that she was a model citizen who had unfortunately found herself caught in a problematic situation. She was so proud of the creativity and resourcefulness she had demonstrated. She could not stand aside while someone questioned her innocence. She always had to be in control.
Kelly was appalled when she remembered the vulgar tone and impudent attitude that had characterized her opponent. Under different circumstances, she would have thrown that boorish cop out of her office on the spot; instead, she had served her coffee and patiently answered each and every one of her irritating questions. Luckily, Kelly emitted a long sigh, this chapter was behind her now, signed and sealed by her victory. The cop hadn’t made contact since then. It may have been only three days, but it seemed like Detective Davis would not be bothering her anymore. Kelly was free once more, and she craved to feel yet again the power to condemn lives. She spotted suitable candidates everywhere – beautiful, vain, who ought to be taught a lesson – but Kelly knew that she had to stay low and not succumb to her urges, no matter how strong they might be.
Those killing moments, delightful as they might have been, were just a small part of a larger picture. They had prepared her for her true calling, a mission she had set for herself years ago. Soon she would be able to fulfill her heart’s most secret desire: the oh-so-sweet revenge.
The nightmares about that bloody day had followed her for many nights. But in her dreams, that same marvelous moment she aspired for also appeared. Now it seemed closer than ever. The mere thought of it made her hands tremble with excitement and her fingers tingle with anticipation. Kelly burst into an insane, uncontrollable laughter, and was glad that there was no one in the office to witness her bizarre behavior. She forced herself to thrust her manicured, polished nails deep into her arms so she would calm down, creating for herself some sort of personal straight jacket.
Kelly took a deep breath and ignored the involuntary tears that flooded her eyes. She saw them as a sign of weakness, the rock bottom she had sworn never to hit again. Her body was moving back and forth, as if it was trying to break through from her incarcerating grip. Kelly suddenly realized that it was rather disturbing that no one around her had noticed that she was not mentally stable. And, despite that, she had successfully managed to establish herself as tops in her field, becoming one of the most influential pillars of strength in the city. After all, she had the power to decide which articles would be included in a supposedly innocent magazine, which, in essence, functioned as a bible for millions of impressionable young girls across the country.
What kind of idiots live in this country, that I have a free hand in sculpting their children’s minds . . .
Of course it wasn’t completely their fault. Kelly had played her part perfectly. A model citizen, a successful businesswoman, a role model . . . How glad she was that she hadn’t listened to the old Kelly, that miserable nobody who wouldn’t even have dared to dream of standing where the new Kelly paced so naturally.
Unlike the old Kelly, nowadays she fought for whatever she wanted, without any fears or hesitations, even if it meant trampling everything in her path. She was determined, strong, and had a spark of brilliance that the plebeians might interpret as madness, but she knew what she was worth. Nothing would stand in her way.
She had suffered through horrible injustices in the past and now it was time to correct them – starting with Gloria McIntyre’s existence on this planet. Kelly had all the means necessary to crush her completely.
Kelly proudly recalled the step-by-step plan she had devised. The way she had used her connections in the advertising world to track down an aspiring, young photographer, one who would be willing to do anything she said in order to win the amazing “opportunity“ she had offered him. How she had guided, telling him exactly how to present his proposal to the conceited princess so she would accept it, while making it clear to him that if the model refused, everything he dreamed of would slip through his fingers. She had been smart enough to ensure that he had plenty of talent and charm, too, so her plan would not fall apart due to the fact that he was merely an insignificant pawn. The way she had directed him to determine the right timing to reveal the “truth“ about the desired project, without understanding that everything he said was a downright lie, thus making him an accomplice without even knowing it. How she had rented an impressive mansion on the other side of the world, just to make certain that her highness would agree to meet with her. And, finally, the fact that she had, once and for all, managed to isolate and capture in her net the bitch who had destroyed her life.
How, at long last, she would eliminate the supermodel.
CHAPTER 24
After Sharon had thanked Miranda and hung up the phone, she slumped down onto the bed and chortled to herself. Finally, she had found the missing piece of the puzzle. That had been the elusive reason why she couldn’t find a shred of information about the renowned editor’s past: Kelly had changed her last name.
In the course of their conversation, Miranda had told Sharon that years ago, after settling down in New York, Kelly had notified her that she was changing her last name to something “catchier,“ as she had phrased it.
Sharon’s fingers tingled as they brushed against the keyboard. Now she could find what she had been looking for all this time. That key component, the one that would help her crack this case and accuse Kelly Danes-Whitesporte of murder. Or accessory murder. Or something. As long as it got her somewhere in this investigation.
Sharon didn’t know what exactly she would find out. For a moment she was worried that this lead would slip out of her hands, or maybe that it was never really there, but her intuitions screamed at her from within and signaled her to trust her instincts. Sharon started typing Kelly’s original name on the search window.
KELLY WH . . .
The browser closed; the internet had been disconnected. Sharon tried to reconnect, but no luck. For the first time in a long time she
wanted to burst into tears. This couldn’t happen now! Not when she was so close. Sharon tried over and over again to get the connection back, moving to different sides of the room and searching for other available networks, but it was clear that it was a lost cause. It was late at night and the user of the computer she had zeroed in on must have turned it off. She was stuck. She picked up her cell phone for the second time that night and called Rob, ignoring the late hour and the time difference to boot, hoping that he might still answer.
Shit, it went to voicemail.
“Hey, Rob. It’s Sharon . . . Call me as soon as you get this message . . . Kelly’s real last name is Whitesporte . . . Something happened to her in 1990, here in Arizona . . . Her mother refused to talk about it . . . You have to find out what the hell it was, it’s just I’m out of the Wi-Fi connec–“
The recording time ended. That’s just how it goes when you have no idea what to say, Sharon scolded herself. She hoped Rob would get the message in time. She couldn’t wait to be back in New York and have the department’s advanced search engines at her disposal, or at least a decent internet connection. Some of the airports offered wireless connections, so maybe she'd get lucky. That was her only chance of finding out about Kelly before going back to New York. Her flight was leaving first thing in the morning, and never in her life had she been happier to start a day so early.
* * *
On the same night that Sharon celebrated her biggest breakthrough, Kelly’s worst nightmare came to life.
Kelly came back home, still feeling euphoric from the little celebration in her office. She pressed the button on her answering machine, not really expecting any messages, but to her surprise, there actually was one. Perhaps the most frightening message she could have gotten.
Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel Page 9
