Illusion

Caleb Barlow had one of those rare moments of silence at his home. Elizabeth went grocery shopping while he caught up on some work. Darcy was at school, and then she would spend the night with a friend. Caleb breathed in the sweetness of being alone; it was not a privilege he got often while working from home.

He clicked out of his office e-mail and browsed a different website for a moment. A branch of the FBI site that allowed researchers access to some criminal case files. He scolded himself for being so thoughtless; this wouldn’t work without a name. Becky didn’t know the name of the man in the white mask, and she certainly wasn’t giving up the name of her Prince Charming.

Caleb’s sick sense of humor laughed a little as he wondered if Prince Charming was the person who murdered Elsie Owens. He quickly pushed the laugh away as the question fell seriously over his mind. Elise was stabbed, the paper with her description said so, but what else was strange about that case.

He pulled up a website to the local archives and began searching the old papers for Elsie’s description since her name was never listed and discrepancies in that particular case. It took him nearly an hour to find the right paper as he read through the articles.



Fear locked itself on Caleb’s thoughts as he remembered the rose Becky described. The rose that was left in her mailbox every day. He tried frantically to remember what the royal blue rose that madman give his daughter smelled like, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall the flower smelled of.

The dove Darcy carried with her at the park the last time they’d gone smelled strangely clean for a bird. Could it have had a hint of a cinnamon scent? No! Caleb shook the thought from his mind. The dove was nothing more than an animal produced by sleight of hand. Still, th thought of this man handing out the same type of rose involved in a murder from roughly 25 years earlier haunted his being.

Caleb printed out a copy of the article before he grabbed his jacket, leaving the house—double checking the locks behind him—he had to show this piece of evidence to Becky. She needed to talk to someone more equipped to research this guy than himself, someone like the police. As soon as he slid into his car, Caleb Barlow felt eyes on the back of his neck. He glanced around, but there was no one there. This information had to be in Becky Owens’ hands now!

He sped down the street. School was still in progress, luckily, so there wasn’t much traffic blocking him during his frantic hurry. Caleb pushed a hand through his dark hair and took a deep breath as he made the fifteen minute drive to the park in just under seven minutes. He ran over the hill; the birds dove out of his way as he pushed himself to go faster. Skidding to a stop in front of his old classmate, his old friend, Caleb heaved a breath before he handed her the paper in his pocket.

“What’s this?” Becky questioned. Caleb could hardly catch his breath but he managed to shake his head.

“Just…read…” he gasped through deep breaths.

“The roses stopped coming,” Becky informed him. “After I talked to you, they stopped.” Her eyes bore into him, almost accusing him of the crime.

“You asked me to research this,” Caleb stated. His face burned from his jog. “I did as you asked. Read it or throw it away, but don’t accuse me of anything more than trying to help.” He turned on his heel and walked back to the parking lot.

Caleb noticed the sensation of being watched again, but this time he outright ignored it as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. As he was about to get into the driver’s seat of his car, a black arm wound around his neck, holding something over his mouth and nose. He tried to scream; he elbowed behind him, but it was as if nothing was there. Slowly, Caleb Barlow fell into a state of immobility although he could still feel the cool air wrapping around the tender skin of his neck.

A syringe appeared before his eyes. It looked empty. The handle extended to fill the syringe of nothing more than air. It hovered over the thick vein popping up on the left side of Caleb’s neck. He tried to scream. He tried to shove it away. The white mask appeared before his eyes. No one else lurked in the parking lot to see this happen to him; Caleb did not want to die alone, but he rather die alone than die by the hands of this lunatic.

“Goodbye,” a gruff, muffled voice floated from beneath the sparkling smile of the mask.

The needle pierced Caleb’s skin, and within minutes his body began convulsing. His left arm hurt, almost like it had been asleep for a long time and was just waking up. His chest heaved as if he’d run a mile. He couldn’t catch his breath. Was this…was this a heart attack?

“I…have…a…” Caleb trailed off as his lungs seemed to collapse in on themselves. They stopped working all together.

Caleb Barlow’s last thought was of his precious little girl, Darcy Barlow, and the madman staring into his eyes as the world descended on him. Darkness soon took over; his end had finally come.

~~~

Ugly yellow tape roped off the parking lot. ‘Crime Scene Tape’ written in black letter’s made the tape even more hideous, but Darcy was curious. She asked her friend’s mom what happened.

“I don’t know. Here’s Mr. Samuels, maybe he can tell us something,” She answered as she pulled over and rolled down the window.

The older man with pepper colored hair took one look in the back seat and shook his head. “Come on, Sara. Just get the girls out of here.” He his voice shook with nerves.

Darcy looked around and noticed her father’s four-door sedan in the parking lot. What was he doing here without her? Maybe just investigating the crime? Her eyes found the black body bag on the ground beside the car. She took a deep breath.

“Mr. S…” she trailed off as she looked at the bag. Her mother’s SUV pulled in, almost blocking Sara’s car from exiting the park. Tears streamed down her mother’s cheeks. Darcy snatched the door open and ran to her mother who fell to her knees just before the body bag.

“NO!” Elizabeth Barlow screamed. The word echoed through the world as the coroner pulled the zipper open just a little.

“Is this…” he trailed off. Thomas Hayes knew exactly who was in that bag, but he needed the family to make a positive ID.

“Daddy!” Darcy screamed, falling beside her mother. This couldn’t be real. He was healthy. They were just laughing at something stupid over breakfast that morning. Darcy wrapped her arms around her mother and buried her face in the fake black fur of the woman’s jacket. Elizabeth returned her daughter’s embrace, although all she could feel was the cold fingers of death wrapping around her beloved husband’s heart.

“What happened?” Darcy managed to whisper over her mother’s shoulder.

The coroner zipped the bag back, cracking every ounce of strength hidden behind Darcy’s façade, and shook his head. “I wish I could tell you there was someone to blame, Darcy-Girl.” Darcy winced at Hayes’ use of her father’s favorite nickname for her. “All I can say right now is that this looked like a textbook case of a heart attack.”

“His heart was fine!” Elizabeth cried. “He had a checkup once a year to make sure he stayed healthy, Thomas, you know that!”

“I’ll let you know if I find evidence of anything more, but all I can tell you now is that it was a death of completely natural causes. I know it hurts, Lizzy, but you’ve got to be strong right now.” Hayes helped lift the body onto a gurney so it could be transported. “Go talk to Gordon tomorrow to make the arrangements; he’ll know exactly how long I’ll need for an autopsy since you want one, and then you can have the results and the planning out of the way when the time comes.”

“You’ve been around death too long, Thomas, to say something like that to a grieving woman and her daughter,” Elizabeth croaked before she forced herself off her knees. She pulled Darcy up with her. “Come on, Sweetheart, it’s time to go home.”

Darcy did not argue with her mother for once. She didn’t insist on going to her friend’s house. Her arms remained wrapped around her mother as they walked to her SUV. Curiosity encapsulated her mind and body. Something bad happened to her father in that parking lot. She knew it, but what could have happened to him? He was a good man with no real enemies.

Becky Owens talked to him about something strange the last time they saw her. Something about a weird rose in her mailbox. Darcy turned to look back through the rear windshield for a moment and in the strobing blue and red lights she spotted the masked magician wiggling his fingers at her as she drove away.

“Did he do this to my father,” Darcy whispered.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie,” Elizabeth promised. “Everything will be fine.”

Something deep down in Darcy Barlow’s gut disagreed wholeheartedly with her mother. No, everything will not be fine because everything is just beginning.