Fleeting Glimpse: A Dark Psychological Thriller

by Victoria M. Patton

Genres: Crime Fiction; Psychological Thrillers; Suspense; crime suspense; thriller suspense; psychological suspense; psychological thriller

Synopsis

An overzealous fan wants more than Chandra's signature, he wants her dead.

Chandra Willis is the new face of horror. But when fans start to send her gifts and cards, something doesn't feel right.

Her agent says this is her new life, and to relax and enjoy the limelight. However, when the feeling of being watched follows her from her public appearances to her home, she can't help but think this is more than the average fan.

When the phone calls, text messages, and gifts become more sinister, Chandra realizes she should've trusted her gut. Instead, she trusted those around her, and second guessed herself.

A costly mistake with deadly consequences.

 

Download your copy of Fleeting Glimpse today!

Victoria M. Patton combines forensics and police work with just enough humor. Her unique way of writing will have you on a roller coaster ride of emotions and keep you turning pages well past your bedtime.

 

Release date: July 28, 2020

Publisher: Dark Force Press

Print pages: 188

Content advisory: Stalker theme and violent crime description

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Monday evening

 

Using my tools, I turn the deadbolt on the side door. I leave the sack containing the dead animal on the ground. I can retrieve it on my way out. As I move through the empty garage, I don’t need to use my penlight. I’ve been here so many times, I know my way around. Turning the knob on the door to the mudroom, I’m surprised it’s locked. It doesn’t take much effort to pick this one.

I can smell her perfume the minute I enter her home. Closing my eyes, I bask in the aroma. Vanilla and a hint of orange fill my nostrils. Soon I’ll smell it on her skin. Theo rubs against my leg, purring and head butting me. I squat, picking him up. “You’re getting a little chubby. I think she’s been over feeding you since the last time I saw you.”

He purrs, rubbing his cheek against my chin, and pawing at my face.

It’s surprising how fond I am of him. I usually keep my distance; this is business, after all. Setting the big cat on the floor, I watch him scamper away. “Don’t get attached. She’s a victim. One that has gotten too much of your attention already.” I can’t allow myself to be distracted. Distractions lead to mistakes.

As I enter the kitchen, not a thing is out of place. The moonlight through the big glass doors makes it just bright enough to see. Walking down the hallway, I stop at the spare bedroom. Not sure why she even has one. She never has any one over.

The glow of a nightlight brings me to her office. A simple wood desk faces the window. I can see the bird feeder strategically placed, enabling her to watch while she works. No doubt a distraction when her creativity fails. I pick up the picture of her mother, and move it to the opposite side of the desk.

Heading back to the kitchen, I pause at the glass door, looking at her back porch. The backdrop of trees makes the perfect view. The light fog forming will give me the perfect cover for tonight.

Theo sits next to his empty bowl, eyeing me as I stand in front of the refrigerator. Reading one of the many scraps of paper covering its surface, I open the door. I’m not sure if this is a place to store food or a giant note board. Some fruit, a container of cottage cheese, several bottles of water, and two bottles of wine fill the otherwise sparse shelves. Shrugging, I look over at Theo. “Maybe she didn’t want it to spoil. What do you think?”

He meows, looking at his empty bowl then back at me.

“Did you eat all the food, or did she not leave you enough?” The pudgy creature spins in circles. “I bet two days seems like a lifetime to you.” Grabbing his bag of kibbles from the cabinet, I fill his bowl halfway. “There. I wouldn’t want your mom to come home and think you suffered.” One last look around to make sure nothing will give my visit away. “I’ll see you soon, Theo.” I smile, leaving the door unlocked.

I flip on the overhead light as I slip out the side door. I can’t help myself. I know her habits. This, the unlocked mudroom door, and the photo will drive her crazy. Locking the doorknob, I pull it shut, then use my tools to re-lock the deadbolt. I look down at the small bag. Picking it up, I chuckle. “I hope you like your surprise, Chandra.” Opening the lid of the trash bin, I take the rotting animal and lay it on the top of a trash bag, stuffing the bag that carried it down into the bin. Closing the lid, I make my way to the backyard.

Walking across the grass, I don’t have to worry about motion sensors or flood lights. She doesn’t have any. No alarm either. I move to the edge of the property line on the far-right side. No fencing makes this too easy.

Waiting at the corner of the house, I use the low-hanging branches of a tree to camouflage myself. I look over my shoulder. The residents to my right would have to come out and walk to the edge of their driveway before they would be able to see me. Confident in my hiding spot, I focus on the lane.

The late September air is crisp, and the jacket I’m wearing is almost too light. The light fog makes the air feel damp. I didn’t realize the temperature would drop this much today. I swallow hard, pinching my lips together. Bouncing on my toes, my stomach flutters at the oncoming headlights. My fingers tingle. I clench my fists and quickly release them, dissipating the pent-up energy. An electric like pulse surges through me as I wait for her arrival. “Hurry,” I whisper. My teeth chatter. I feel as if I’m moments away from exploding and sending my body parts flying.

A wide grin stretches across my face as she pulls into her driveway. I need to take cover along the thicket of trees in the back. First, I want to see her face. I need to see her face. My insides vibrate, making my skin itch.

Her neighbor exits his home, drawing my attention towards him. I’ve seen him speak to her. Although I’m never close enough to hear the conversations. Her crossed arms and constant frown during their interactions clearly indicate she doesn’t like Mr. William Franks. I squeeze my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. He’s distracting her. My nostrils flare. “Go home.” A low growl rumbles in my throat.

Her focus shifts between her garage and Mr. Franks. I can barely see her wrinkled brow as she looks in my direction. She taps her steering wheel, glancing over her shoulder towards her neighbor.

She looks my way one last time, before pulling into her garage. Her brow draws together as she searches the area where I’m standing. I suck in a breath, retreating, stepping back behind the cover of the brick wall. I don’t think she sees me. Cursing under my breath, I lean forward and peek around the edge. I could explain my presence away by making the excuse of going for a late evening stroll. But I would rather not give myself away.

I hiss out a breath, watching the tail end of her car pull into the garage. The door closes as Mr. Franks reaches the edge of her lawn. I bite my bottom lip to hide my snicker as I turn to head towards the backyard.

CHAPTER TWO

Inching up to the entrance of her neighborhood, the sensor reads the sticker on Chandra’s windshield. The massive gate lumbers open. A guard waves her through without a glance. Calm washes over her, alleviating the achiness in her chest. More and more, she struggles with leaving the security of her home. She finds her anxiety and fear mounting due to the endless stream of interviews, appearances, and book signings.  

You don’t have any right to complain, Chandra.

Her late mother’s words echo in her head. “I know, Mother.” She chastises herself. Exhaling, she blows out the guilt. She lives a great life. Nothing to complain about. When she turned in that first story to her now agent, Jane, Chandra had no idea how much her life would change.

She takes in the neighborhood as she drives to her home. Her writing career took off way faster than she or her publishing company, Baker and Son, thought it would. And although she loves creating stories that everyone reads, she is in a constant battle with how much of her private life she has to give up.

If she had her way, she would rather stay at home, write her books, and never talk to strangers again. Her reclusive, introvert personality gets in the way of her public life. “Too late now to change anything, or leave.” Her publishing company owns her life, and her agent would shoot her before she let her walk away.

Driving down her lane, a smile creeps across her face. She shimmies in her seat when her house comes into view. “I’m so glad to be home.” On the road for two days, Chandra’s excitement bubbles over. At 3,800 square feet, her house is on the smaller side. More like a bungalow than the mini-mansions in this community.

Chandra shakes her head as she passes Mr. Franks. “I bet he’s going to water his bushes again.” Exhaling a sharp deep breath, she waves at him; giving him a half-smile. “What a pompous ass,” she says, rolling her eyes. Tapping the remote control on her visor, she watches the garage door crawl open. Over her shoulder she can see Mr. Franks making his way towards her.

“Let’s go.” Chandra taps the steering wheel, mentally willing the door to raise faster. Peering out her side window, she returns her attention to the garage. She grips the wheel so tight, the veins in her forearms bulge. Another quick glance to her right, and she can see Mr. Franks is almost at her lawn.

The hair on her arms stand on end. Her gaze is drawn towards the left side of her house. “What is that?” She squints in the direction of the movement. The drooping limbs of the trees and the light fog make it impossible for her to make anything out.

Frowning she turns back to her garage door. She blows out the burning air from her lungs as the door slowly opens. The glaring overhead lights illuminate her usually dark garage. “Why is my light on? I shut it off.” She can feel her face tighten as her brow wrinkles.

A second movement at the corner of her house catches her eye. Her grip tightens on the steering wheel. Searching, she finds nothing but swaying branches. She chalks it all up to the wind. “Crap,” she says, realizing Mr. Franks is steps away from her driveway. The last thing she wants to hear is his opinion of her latest novel.

She guns her motor, lurching forward. Shaking her fist in triumph, she laughs. “Ha,” she squeals in delight. “Not this time, William.” Rolling in faster than she needed, the windshield hits the tennis ball hanging from the ceiling a little too hard. The ball swings violently, crashing into the glass, bouncing upward. Before she’s even parked, Chandra lowers the garage door.

The victorious moment is short lived. The thudding from the ball echoes in the silent garage. Squinting, she stares at the lights. Her mind races and her breathing is shallow. “I turned those off. I know I did.” She thinks back to Saturday when she left, replaying her departure in her head. “I fed Theodore, grabbed my purse, my bags, turned on the garage light, opened the door….” She rubs her forehead. “I’m positive I turned off the light before leaving.”

Her heart pounds out a beat in her ears. Her stomach churns as her chest tightens, making it hard to catch her breath. What if someone got in my house? She lays her head against the wheel. “Stop, Chandra. No one got into your damn house.”

Jumping when her phone blares through the Bluetooth, she clutches her chest. She taps the call button. “Hello?” she says, lifting it from the cradle, shifting the call from the speakers to the handset.

“Chandra, it’s Adam.”

“Hey, Adam. What can I do for you?”

“Are you okay? You sound weird.”

“I’m fine. Just got home and was pulling into my garage. What do you need?” She hears drawers opening and paper shuffling. “Are you at the office?” Picking up her purse and briefcase from the passenger seat, she gets out and retrieves her small suitcase from the back. Before heading into her house, she glances at the side door, making sure she indeed locked it.

“Yes, I’m still at the office. Jane had a late evening meeting with Corey Richards. Her new acquisition. He’s in California and wasn’t available until tonight. Listen, your book signing, the one here in town on Wednesday, the bookstore owner asked if you could come earlier and do a special meet and greet.”

Chandra’s shoulders sag as she leans her head back. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waits a minute before responding.

“Chandra? Hello?”

“Yeah, Adam. I’m sure I don’t have a choice. That’s fine.” She sighs. “I’m sorry. I know it isn’t your fault, but I thought these things were supposed to be prearranged. It’s kind of late notice for a book signing.” Balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, she uses her key to unlock the mudroom door. Realizing the door is unlocked, she grunts. “What the heck?” She steps over the threshold.

“Chandra, what’s wrong?”

She sighs in exasperation. Dropping her briefcase on the floor and rolling her suitcase out of the way, Chandra turns the lock on the doorknob. “I don’t know, Adam. My door is unlocked.” Twisting the lock on the knob, she double checks making sure it’s secure before closing the door and locking the deadbolt.

“Did you leave it unlocked?”

“No. I never leave my door unlocked. Or my garage lights on for that matter.”

“Uh, okay. Chandra, you’re sounding kind of frazzled. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Chandra pinches her lips together to keep from saying anything. Every time she tries to tell Jane or Adam about the weird things happening, they blow her off, telling her it’s just her imagination, or her shyness.

She knows her shyness is an issue. But she knows the difference between being uncomfortable around people and the sensation of being watched, or the feeling someone has been in her home. But she also doesn’t want to sound crazy. Not a good look for a bestselling author whose publishing house is planning a big tour.

Bringing her to the other reason she keeps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want to be seen as trying to get out her upcoming book tour. She’s been paid a handsome fee for her books. Chandra knew there would be things she had to do in return. “It’s nothing. What do you need?” Carrying her purse into the kitchen, she places it on the table. Slipping out of her shoes, she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge.

“Meooow!”

“Aww, hi, sweetie.” Holding her phone in her hand, she sets the bottle on the counter, and scoops up Theodore, a long-haired Norwegian mix. She grunts as she lifts him, staring at the long whiskers on his face. “Theo, they say a cat’s whiskers grow in proportion to the width of the cat. How long do you think yours are going to grow, huh?”

Theodore narrows his eyes at her, scowling.

She sniffs his fur. “You smell good. You’ve been into something.” Giggling at his expression, she checks the large bowl of dry food she left out. “I see you didn’t eat it all. I guess you didn’t starve to death.”

“Uh, excuse me?”

Laughing at Adam’s response, she grabs a can of cat food from the cupboard. “I was talking to my cat.”

Theodore wiggles in excitement, trying to leap from her grasp.

“Okay, calm down. Adam, give me a few minutes.”

“Sure,” he says.

She sets the phone on the counter.

Theo jumps from her arms spinning in circles waiting for his food.

Grabbing a dish from the cabinet, she empties the contents of the can. She holds her breath for a few seconds. “Wow! How can you eat this stuff?” she asks, setting it down. 

Theo purrs as he gobbles his food.

“Slow down, Theodore,” she says, picking up the phone. “Okay, Adam, sorry about making you wait. Why wasn’t this meet and greet prearranged?”

“Thomas arranged it. However, after Jane fired him, he still had access to his editor log in and remotely deleted vital information and several of your appointments. Had it not been for the shop owner calling us, you would have missed it.”

“Oh darn,” Chandra says, concentrating on balancing the phone and a bottle of wine, as she pulls a wine glass from its hanging perch. The clink of glass gives her pause. Cringing, she watches the stemware sway.

“These aren’t bad, Chandra. They’re more intimate, and your fans love them.”

“That may be true, but…” Chandra shakes her head. “Has there been any other fallout from Thomas?” She grabs a bottle opener from a drawer.

Adam sighs into the phone. “Yeah. He’s going to sue you and Jane.”

“Me? Why me?” Her voice stammers.

“He says you got him terminated, and Jane hasn’t paid him his last salary check.”

“How did I get him fired? He tried to trick me into signing with another publisher, all under the guise of Jane’s approval. He got himself fired.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. He can’t touch you. Or us, for that matter.”

“That’s what you say. When is this shindig?” Frowning, she pinches her lips together to keep from saying anything snarky. Pouring some wine into her glass, she takes a long sip. It’s the first time she relaxes since she returned home.

“Hang on, I have the information somewhere,” Adam pauses. “Here it is. Five p.m. With the main book signing starting at seven.”

“All right. Can you make sure to bring me a few hard cover books?”

“I can do that.”

“Thank you.” Her voice trails off. She’s standing in front of her automatic sliding glass doors, peering at her backyard. She loves the unfiltered view these doors give. Their seamless construction and interlocking panes mean no clunky doors on a track. The original doors were like that, and the owner had a huge metal dowel attached for security. These doors provide the security she wants without the bulky ugly frame.

Chandra loves her backyard view. It’s why she purchased the home. The odd shape of her property gives her lots of privacy from her neighbors who are over a hundred feet away on either side. Due to the curvature of the cul-de-sac, her house sits at the front of the lot, giving her a smaller front yard. While roughly one and a half acres sits at the back. The property lines give her backyard the shape of an inverted triangle, placing her home at the tip.    

The half-moon mesmerizes Chandra as Adam’s voice drones on about the bookstore. Its subtle glow, combined with the light fog, casts soft shadows against the backdrop of the dense row of evergreens encircling her entire property. The trees whisper for her to join them.

Adam continues to go over her upcoming schedule. A month-long tour of the northeast, beginning with her home town of Manchester, New Hampshire, traveling the coastline, with several stops at bookstores along the way. Chandra’s chest tightens. She doesn’t want to be gone that long. The only saving grace, she gets to take Theodore with her.

If she has to discuss business, she might as well be comfortable. Wrapping herself up in a blanket from the back of a reading chair, she prepares to go out on the deck. Using the ball of her foot, she presses the locking mechanism that will allow for the glass doors to slide open.

 

CHAPTER THREE

The solid line of trees separating the properties from each other gives me the perfect hiding spot. The fog encircles each solar light on the steps from the wooden deck, creating a muted glow. A burning sensation fills my chest. I can see her on the phone as she grabs the wine from the fridge. “Get off the phone.” A growl vibrates at the back of my throat. “And come outside.” Clenching my jaw, the corded braids of tension seize in my neck. 

I step out and move a little closer. She’s standing at the large sliding glass doors. Wiping my moist palms on my jeans, I lick my lips. My heart skips a beat as I inch closer, leaving the seclusion of the trees. I want to be near her. I want to smell her perfume and touch her cheek, feel her skin under my fingertips.

“Come outside, Chandra.” The softness of my voice floats on the cold air around me. Taking another step closer, I hug the tree line. I’m sure she can’t see me. I’m nearing a jut out of trees. To keep her in view, I need to step out onto the open grassy area. Hugging the branches as best I can, I maneuver around them, moving closer to my prize.

It’s the perfect night. I’ve let this go on long enough. The pounding of my pulse quickens, beating out a rhythm in my chest. She’s right there, so close. If she would just step out onto the porch, I can take her. I plead silently, begging her to come outside. Saliva coats my mouth, and my breathing is raspy as trembling takes over my body.