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.
CHAPTER 31
“She 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.“
CHAPTER 32
After driving continuously for nearly seven hours straight, Kelly decided to stop at a small diner located near a gas station. That way she could kill two birds with one stone.
She drank the terrible coffee that the waitress served her, reminiscing about New York’s cafés, when she noticed that someone had left their morning newspaper on the table. Kelly picked up the paper and started browsing through it vigorously, knowing exactly what she was looking for. After a few minutes she found it:
Death of a Cop: Accidental or Malicious?
On Monday evening, February 24, the body of Sharon Davis, a homicide detective with the New York Police Department, was discovered lifeless in her Manhattan apartment. Initial observations of the ransacked apartment in
dicate an attempted robbery gone wrong. It appears that the cop entered her home and encountered the robber in the act. However, a source within the NYPD stated that the possibility of premeditated murder is also under investigation. No suspects are currently in custody. New York Police Department has no further comments at this time.
Kelly felt as if a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. Now I’m finally free, she sighed. She decided to celebrate by ordering the cherry pie she’d spied in the desserts display; she could afford to unwind for a few more minutes . . .
* * *
On Wednesday morning, February 26, Robert and Jillian Davis sat down for breakfast at their dining table. As usual, they smeared cream cheese across their hot Bialy bagels and divided the newspaper between them. The ritual of swapping sections occurred about twenty minutes later, and after an additional twenty minutes the couple would discuss the articles that they’d found interesting. Bobby always started with the sports section and Jill began with the news section. She started flipping casually through the pages when . . .
“Bobby . . .“ Jill’s voice trembled and she dropped her bagel on the floor.
Brandy, their beloved dog, eagerly pounced on the prize.
* * *
“Shit!!!“
Dozens of passengers turned their heads toward the loud and obviously ill-mannered woman. The man sitting next to her looked astonished.
“Shall I remind you that we are trying to keep a low profile?“ Rob glared at Sharon.
“I forgot to tell them.“
“Forgot to tell what to whom?“
“I forgot to tell my parents I’m not dead.“
* * *
Chris Wallington had been in an exceptionally good mood for the last couple of days. He couldn’t seem to forget the face of the beautiful detective who had sat next to him on the plane. He held in his hand the business card of Sharon Davis, Homicide Detective, New York Police Department and wondered when would be the right time to call. He had decided it would be better to wait another day or two; let her get some rest. She sure looked like she’d needed it. He had already realized from the few hours they’d spent on the plane that this one was not going to make his life any easier, but he did not mind. For the first time in his life he could understand why people believed in love at first sight. If he hadn’t been such a cynic, he might have thought he was falling in love.
Chris glanced at his watch, grabbed the morning paper, and left for work with a broad smile stretched across his face.
CHAPTER 33
Kelly was only several hours away from the border. By the end of the day she would be on a plane to New Zealand, starting a new chapter in her life – the chapter in which she would fulfill her lifelong dream. Her mouth tasted sweeter than ever, the taste of impending revenge.
Her foot slammed down on the gas pedal. She began to accelerate, expediting her arrival to freedom, longing to leave all of her worries behind. She was sick and tired of hiding. She was sick and tired of waiting. After all, she had waited long enough; nearly two decades of her life had been spent waiting.
Her eyes did not stray from the route, but her mind drifted somewhere entirely different from the curved road ahead of her. She saw herself standing in front of Gloria while the model kneeled submissively at her feet. She saw herself releasing all the poison that had streamed through her blood for years, ever since that dreadful day. She saw herself . . .
Getting pulled over by a cop?
The siren abruptly snagged Kelly out of her delightful fantasy and brought her back to gloomy reality. The police car signaled her to stop.
How could everything I’ve worked for all these years go down the drain in a single moment?
She pulled up to the side of the road. A young, handsome officer in uniform approached her window.
“We both know why I pulled you over, don’t we?“
Kelly sensed beads of perspiration starting to form along her temples. She tried to keep her breathing regular. It had never been this hard.
She tried smiling at the officer and maintaining her usual calm, composed facial expression, though she knew that this was it – she’d been caught.
“So . . . How are we going to solve our little problem?“
Kelly immediately thought about the piles of money she had stashed in the trunk of the car. Perhaps she could bribe him? No, that wouldn't help her this time; she had crossed an irreversible line.
She had killed a cop.
“You seem like a reasonable lady, so why were you driving above the speed limit? It’s very dangerous.“
Kelly was so relieved that she felt her heart almost fly into the sky. The oxygen came back to her lungs and she instantly felt revitalized.
“You are absolutely right, Officer. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just in such a rush to get home,“ she flashed a flustered grin. “Dinner isn’t going to make itself.“
The young officer smiled back at the nice lady. She reminded him of his mom – always rushing to take care of everyone and, in the process of doing so, ending up forgetting herself.
“Still, I don’t want to see you doing that again. Is that clear?“
“Of course, Officer, and again, I am so sorry.“
“It’s okay. Just show me your license and registration, please.“
Kelly’s heartbeat started racing again. She felt as if the bullet she had just managed to dodge had returned in a circular motion to snipe at her back.
She started searching nervously for the forged credentials in her purse. She had no idea where the registration of the lame car she’d bought just a couple of days ago was.
For God’s sake, this is the last thing I need right now.
The officer looked at the anxious woman searching through her bag for the documents. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and guessed that she’d had a rough day at work. He felt sorry for her. Maybe he didn’t have to check her license; when he saw the papers falling out of her bag and scattering along the bottom of the car, he decided to cut the poor woman some slack.
He didn’t notice the pile of bills that slipped out along with them.
“Okay, never mind. I’ll let you off with a warning this time.“
Kelly felt as if the treacherous bullet had suddenly lost its momentum and dropped to the ground.
“Thank you, Officer. Thank you so much,“ she smiled a broad smile – a real one for a change. What a break.
“Next time I won’t be able to let it slide, so please pay attention.“
There won’t be a next time, you idiot . . .
“Of course, Officer, and again, thank you.“
Kelly waited for a few moments in her car, letting the police car pass her. The stupid cop waved her goodbye.
Oh, honey, you have no idea what kind of mistake you’ve just made . . .
She was so glad that they let just anyone into the police academy these days.
Less than three hours later, Kelly had successfully crossed the United States-Canada border. It had not been an easy task since she’d had to rely on clumsy maps, roadside signage, and bystanders’ faulty English. It all would have been much simpler had she just used the GPS on her smartphone, but she’d been afraid of being tracked.
Kelly stopped again to refuel and gave the guy an extra tip to polish the decrepit car. In the meantime, she took out the driving directions she had prepared in advance, looking how to get to the most luxurious hotel near Vancouver International Airport. She had a few hours to spare in this place and money was no obstacle.
After days and days of not being able to sit in a coffee shop for more than fifteen minutes or enjoy a decent meal, after the countless hours she’d spent in that reeking car, Kelly had to compensate. Fix the horrible injustices she had endured.
After her car had been polished and shined, she was ready to get behind the wheel for one last drive. Kelly had decided that the smartest thing to do would be to leave the car in the hotel’s parking lot, so it w
ould take some time to trace it. She would take a cab to the airport and from there fly first class. In New Zealand, the Porsche she had leased would be waiting to take her to the extravagant mansion she had rented, worthy of her status.
Kelly took the final turn on her direction sheet. She spotted the Marriott logo from a distance. She could hardly wait to slip into a big bubble bath, to scrub her body clean from all the filth of the last few days. She fantasized about the red, sweet strawberries, complementing the Dom Pérignon that she would order in her room. She could already taste the Champagne in her mouth and imagined how she would relish each and every drop.
When she arrived at the hotel, she approached the receptionist.
“Welcome to the Vancouver Airport Marriott hotel,“ the clerk greeted her. “Do you have a reservation?“
“No, but I would like to make one now. I need a room for today.“
“I’m sorry, we are fully booked.“
Kelly did not like this answer. She assumed that after three days in the same scruffy clothes and unwashed hair, she didn’t look like someone who could afford a room in this kind of hotel.
“Are you telling me there isn’t even one room available?“ Kelly asked.
“Yes. All the single rooms are occupied.“
“And the executive suites?“
The receptionist looked at her, surprised.
“The presidential suite is available,“ she answered condescendingly, “but . . .“
Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel Page 13
