Free The Gift of Illusion: A Thriller by Richard Brown Page A

taking some much needed time
off. A vacation sounded nice, a real vacation, not sitting
on his ass and staring at the back of his eyelids. Maybe after the
school year ended, he could take Amy somewhere she has never been,
which was almost anywhere beyond Elmwood. Soon she would be turning
seventeen and entering her senior year in high school, this summer
could be his last chance to do something special for her.
    He returned his seat back into the upright
position and exited the car. Just as he was about to shut the door,
he caught a glimpse of the painting lying broken and forgotten in
the back seat. The painting reminded him of the old woman that
lived next door to the now infamous Ackerman residence; how she had
said such wonderful things of Lori, Carol, and especially, James.
There was something in the way she spoke, some imperative truth to
her words that begged to push the what if button in the back
of Isaac’s head.
    What if there was more behind all that seems
obvious?
    He reached into the back seat, scooped up
the torn painting, and headed inside the house. After checking his
messages, he sat down at the kitchen table, laid out the pieces of
the painting in front of him, and then proceeded to place each
shred of paper back into its original position. He wondered how the
painting had arrived at its tattered state, though what seemed most
peculiar was that the picture had been torn in five pieces from top
to bottom, with each family member (all three of them) alone on
their own piece, as if someone had planned it that way.
    Then an emotion swept over Isaac of which he
hadn’t felt in a very long time.
    Sorrow.
    Perhaps he had locked it away in some dark
and distant place of unrecognizable feelings, or maybe the long and
vigorous years in law enforcement had desensitized him. But how
could he have forgotten the tragedy of sixteen years? The four
bullets in Linda’s chest. The blood stained sheets and nightgown.
The emptiness he had felt as he laid in a hospital bed imagining
the paramedics carry her from the house in a zipped up body
bag.
    He hadn’t forgotten. He had tucked those
painful feelings away in the closet for so long that when he was
finally ready to face them again, he could hardly recognize what
was left under all the dust. Maybe it was time he forgave himself.
He felt tears form in the corners of his eyes and turned away from
the painting. He wanted to let it all out and show himself that he
was not afraid, but instead he quickly shoved the torn pieces aside
and fought to hold the feelings within.
    Not today, he thought. The guilt
still flourished willingly in his blood and was more effective a
crutch than ever, and he would lean on it until it broke. Someday. Not today.
    Isaac left the kitchen table and opened up
the refrigerator. He grabbed a soda, a small jar of mayonnaise, and
a few packets of lunchmeat and set them down on the counter. They
were low on bread supply but there was still a few slices left for
a hearty sandwich. He untwisted the bread bag and reached for the
last two soft slices sandwiched between two crusty end pieces, and
then stuffed the remainder of the bag into the trash under the
sink.
    As Isaac finished preparing his sandwich,
there was a knock at the front door. He froze in mid-bite and
glanced through the living room. For a brief moment, he thought he
might have been hearing things, but he quickly withdrew this notion
when a double knock followed. He finished swallowing his first bite
and set the rest of the sandwich down on the counter. As he walked
to the front door, there was another knock, followed by a
voice.
    “Anybody home?” asked the voice. “Hey, man,
ya there?”
    The voice was Randy Wilson's, his next-door
neighbor to the left. Randy had worked as a mechanic at a garage
just outside of town, a job he had miraculously held on to for a
couple of years, ever since his last marriage ended, but he could
do just about any odd job you could imagine. He was a