Broken Illusions: A Midnight Dragonfly Novel (38 page)

The wind screamed around us, distorting everything. I turned away and held the phone tighter, Delphi squirming from my arms as I pressed a hand over my other ear. “Chase? Are you there?”

He was, I could tell that he was, but only distortion came through.

“Chase, I can’t hear what you’re saying!”

“Trinity…”

“I’m here.”

He still talked, but his voice was garbled—breathless. “… found her…”

I twisted back toward the direction of the ice cream shop. “Oh, my God—where?” My eyes locked onto Dylan’s. “Where are you?”

“… get out … mom…”

“What?” Already we were running. “Chase!”

But through the phone, I heard nothing, not even the static. “He found her!”

Dylan sprinted ahead of me, his gun held in front of him, looking every bit the cop that his father had been.

Then he stopped dead in his tracks. “What the—”

The harsh hues of late afternoon stole details, but I saw it the second he did, the shadow—the silhouette racing along a high curve of the wooden roller coaster.

“Oh, my God!” I cried, trying to see, understand. But then Dylan was running, shouting. “No!
No!
Get down—”

Time slowed. Maybe I heard the grinding moan first, the crack of wood splintering. Or maybe I saw the figure stiffen. Or maybe that all happened at the same time, the moment locking around detail, holding it for one cruel second, then releasing it to unfurl in horrifying speed.

One second he was there, perched along a high twist of the rotting wooden roller coaster.

Then the track collapsed, and he was gone.

The impact slammed through me, stealing my own breath. I ran, sprinting to keep up with Dylan, through the grotesque sweep of silence of the area that had once been cluttered with thrill seekers, toward the crumpled figure beside the rotting gate.

Dylan got there first. Gasping, I staggered beside him—and froze.

“Trinity—”

Vaguely I heard his voice. It was warped, distorted, through some hideous tunnel of time and space. But I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t answer, could only drop to my knees and try to breathe.

I’d been warned. I’d seen it time and time again. But I’d never realized …

“Chase,”
I whispered, reaching for him and turning his face toward me, seeing the trickle of blood from his mouth—his nose.
“Oh, God … Chase.”

Dylan kneeled beside me.

Everything shook as I ran my hands along Chase’s body, sliding my fingers to his throat. “Come on,” I prayed, pressing harder. “Come on!”

“Trinity, he’s—”

“Don’t!” I screamed. “Don’t say it!”

Wordlessly, Dylan joined his hand with mine, shifting my fingers a fraction of an inch, where the faintest flutter …

“Yes,” I sobbed, leaning over him and bringing my mouth to his. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Cradling him, I ran my hands through his sweaty hair, kissing the familiar curves of his face, the blood at his mouth, just as I’d done the week before, when I’d found him by the canal. I’d thought that was the end.

I’d thought that was the end!

“You’re okay,” I promised. “We’re going to get you to the hospital.” Like last weekend. They would run tests, maybe hold him for observation. His parents would be there …

Behind me, I heard Dylan making the call.

“And you’re going to be okay.”
With one hand I found his, laced our fingers and squeezed.

“Trin…”

My heart kicked hard. “Chase?” I eased back. “That’s it, come on, I’m here…”

His eyes, dull, glassy, met mine. “… get out…”

“No,” I said, fighting tears. “Not without you.”

I saw his mouth work, wished I had water to offer. “Y-your aunt…”

Slowly things started to click, memory overlapping the horror of seeing him fall. “You said you found her—where is she?”

“Get … LaSalle…”

Dizzy, I swung back toward Dylan. “She has to be close,” I cried, not wanting to think about the agony I saw in his eyes. “You have to find her!”

The relentless breeze sent the long dark hair cutting into his face. “Trinity, I’m not going to leave you—”

“You have to,” I said, crying again, harder this time. “
Please.
You have to find her…”

I could tell he didn’t want to go. But I also knew that he realized I was right. “Call me,” he gritted out. “If you hear anything, if a shadow so much as falls the wrong way—”

“I will,” I promised, swallowing back tears. “I promise.”

Still, I could tell he didn’t want to move.

“Hurry,” I said, blinking against the hot salty sting.
“Please.”

Finally he moved, not back toward the center of the park, but toward me. Eyes hot on mine, he reached down and held out his switchblade. “Take this.”

Wordlessly, I did.

He turned then, and ran.

Blinking, I watched him vanish behind the Mardi Gras Madness ride, then twisted back toward Chase. “Help’s coming. Just hang on.”

Blood leaked from his mouth.
“Uhav…”
he mumbled, but above the roar of my own blood, I could hardly understand.

“Sh-h-h.”
I leaned closer, my mouth a breath from his. “Don’t try to talk.”

Crammed between us, I felt his hand move and pulled back, saw him fumbling with his pocket. “No, no,” I said. “Save your energy.”

His movements got jerkier as he grabbed my hand and dragged it toward him.

“What?” I asked.

“Take … it…”

Confused, not wanting him to exert himself, I slid my hand along the—

Gray Affliction shirt.

Just like in my dream.

“Take … it,” he murmured the second my fingers slipped against the phone crammed in his waistband.

I did. “Dylan already called,” I told him.

His eyes rolled back.

“Chase!”

Limply, his hand lifted to close around my hair and tug me toward him. “Never … shoulda … w-walked…”

My heart squeezed. “It’s okay…” I said, sliding the long bangs from his forehead.

“Trinity—thank God.”

On a hard slam I twisted around and tried not to start crying all over again. “Detective LaSalle—omigod, you came! They’re here,” I said. “They’re all here!”

Eyes grim, he stepped closer. “Sara—”

“We haven’t found her yet. But Grace is in one of the buildings up front—”

He glanced in that direction. “Where’s Dylan? What the hell are you doing alone—”

“Looking for my aunt,” I said. “I made him go, couldn’t leave Chase. Where’s the ambulance?”

His whole body went on alert, the cop in command of the man. “Come on,” he said, reaching for me and closing a hand around my upper arm. “We’ve got to get you out—”

“No!” I shrieked, jerking back. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Trinity, you have to.”

“No,” I cried again as he forcibly dragged me to my feet. “I can’t just—”

“You’re a sitting target,” he pointed out, positioning his body between me and the rotting buildings of the park. “If you want to see your aunt alive…”

I swayed, lunging back toward Chase.

His eyes, dull, unfocused, shifted to mine, pleading.

“No,” I whispered.

Blood caked his mouth.
“La … Salle…”

“Come on,” the detective barked, and, crying, I knew I had no choice.

Dead toys couldn’t win.

Blinking against my tears, I staggered in front of LaSalle, back toward the front of the park. “We have to find Dylan—”

“There’s not time,” LaSalle said, checking over his shoulder. “He knows what he’s doing.”

And so did I. Maybe LaSalle didn’t think it was important, but if Dylan went back to the roller coaster and found me gone, he would think the worst. He would go nuts—

I’d left my BlackBerry by Chase, but his iPhone was still in my hand. I drew it close so LaSalle wouldn’t try to stop me, and fiddled with the button. I could text Dylan—

The camera came up.

I started to switch to phone mode, but saw the picture against the screen, of the back of one of the buildings, and a woman with long dark hair wearing a lavender dress, draped in a man’s arms. The man was running …

My throat closed up. The buzz in my ears turned to a scream. Picking up my pace, I walked faster, back toward the collapsed carousel and Barbe’s Ice Cream Shop, where large blue and red flags flapped violently around a tangle of tubular slides …

“My aunt,” I cried. “We have to find—”

“If she’s here we’ll find her,” LaSalle promised from behind me.

And everything inside me crystallized.

The man in the picture, the man with my aunt in his arms, the man running in the shadows, was the same man hustling me out of the park.

The horror of it all crashed in on me, like a fog lifting to brutal clarity, then fogging over once more. But even as my mind raced, I knew there was no time for that. I walked faster, knew I only had a little time. Shaking, pretending that I knew nothing, I flipped through more pictures, one after the other, all of LaSalle.

Chase had seen him. He’d seen LaSalle with my aunt. Maybe that’s why he’d climbed on the roller coaster—to get a better view. To get pictures.

Evidence.

Numbly, I slid my finger along the bottom of the screen, pulling up the text message option. And when the message requested a recipient, I fumbled in MOM.

Chase’s mom.

She would know. No matter what went down in the next few minutes, she would have the evidence. She would know who hurt her son.

“What are you doing?” LaSalle asked, closing in on me.

“Nothing,” I said as I brought up phone mode and entered Dylan’s number.

He would know, too. I couldn’t talk to him—but whatever went down, he would hear.

Heart slamming, I slid Chase’s phone into my waistband—and at the last second veered toward the play area.

“Trinity—no!” LaSalle shouted.

I kept running, knew I couldn’t stop.

“Trinity, what the fuck are you doing?”

My rules, was all I could think.
My rules.
“Aunt Sara!” I shouted, buying time. “Aunt Sara!”

“Trinity—”

I could feel him gaining on me. Zigzagging, I darted past the blue rail fence toward the toddler airplane ride. “Aunt Sara, please—”

“Trinity, no!”

Red and blue flags slapped at me. “Dylan!”

It was a game, all a game. I had to keep pretending, painting an illusion of my own. If he suspected that I knew—

“This isn’t the answer!” LaSalle shouted.

I darted through the tubular slides, emerging on the far side of the play area. “Dylan! Aunt Sara! Where are you?”

“You’re making a mistake,” LaSalle warned, and I could hear it, the veil of the cop crumbling away, the edge of desperation taking over. Whatever game he’d been playing, it had been leading to this, to here.

To getting me out of that park.

And I couldn’t let it happen.

Blindly, I made my way toward the kiddie swings, dangling in a circle from rusted chains, an ornate hub in the center, where the operator had once stood. If I could get to the other side—

His hand came down on my shoulder.

I twisted.

My shirt ripped.

I darted away, shoving swings at him as I lunged around the hub. “No,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “I’m not leaving here with you.”

He stilled, the ice cold of his eyes finding mine as he slipped the gun from his holster, and lifted it toward me. “Yes, you are.”

My throat burned. My blood roared. “Not without my aunt.”

The look on his face chilled me to the bone. He’d always made me uncomfortable, the way he’d watched me, the questions he’d asked. But I’d attributed it to the cop in him.

The truth sickened me.

“Trinity, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I slapped at the hair flying into my face. Dylan was there. Dylan was close. All I had to do was buy enough time.

“I can’t,” I said. “Not when I’m this close. Don’t try to make me—”

His mouth was a sharp, narrow line. “It’s for your own good.”

“No, it’s not.”

His finger slid to the trigger. “Stop acting like a child.”

I inched farther around the hub. If he made a move, I would, too, around and around …

“Now, Trinity.”

That was so not going to happen.

I wanted to throw it all at him. I wanted to throw everything I knew, to smear him with it. Because it all made sense now, horrible sense, the exact moment our paths had crossed last fall and he’d started to play. I’d contacted him to help. And I’d trusted him, told him everything, about my dreams, what I saw.

And in doing so, I’d given him a new toy.

He threw it at me first. “You really think you’re going to win?” he mocked. “The game’s over, sweetheart. And I win.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You know … everything.”

Frantically I glanced through the swaying swings, searching for Dylan.

“Don’t you think I can read you by now?” he asked as I stepped back, never looking away. “Don’t you think I’ve been doing my homework all these months, watching … studying? That I know exactly what you’re thinking … when I
want
you to think it?”

My throat convulsed.

“You really want to force my hand?” he asked, caressing the side of his gun. “Because it won’t feel very good,” he said, still so grotesquely mildly. “And at the end of the day, the result is going to be the same. My mouse is out of moves.”

“No,” I said, heart hammering. “I’m not.” In the distance, sirens sounded. “I’m not stupid, either.” It ended here. If I left with him, he would never let me live. “I’m not going to be your plaything until you get bored with me.”

He smiled. “Trust me, it’ll be a
long
time before that happens.”

I wanted to throw up. It was so clear now, I didn’t know how I’d missed it all along. LaSalle the cop, LaSalle the one in charge. He was always the one there, one step ahead, asking questions, collecting evidence … directing the investigation.

Setting up a fall guy.

It was the perfect illusion. Even when he’d made me uncomfortable, I’d never looked deeper than what I thought was the obvious.