Free The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller by P. Wish Page A

turn around. Her dark form merged with his shadow. She took a step back.
    He inched closer. The street lamp illuminated a shiny object in his belt. Darcy’s spine went cold. He was going to attack her. Her lips parted.
    Her heels dug into the street. The space between two stones trapped the end of her heel. Her foot twisted. She fell. She let out a weak sound. He closed the distance. The dark figure hung over her.
    “Are you all right?” he asked. Darcy turned around abruptly. She head a cat mew. Smokey stood next to Mr. Hatter. Mr. Hatter examined her, carefully.
    “Oh,” she said awkwardly. She squirmed on the floor. He helped her up. “Mr. Hatter.”
    “Are you all right?” he asked. He looked at her swollen ankle.
    “I’m fine,” she said in a falsetto. “I thought you were…never mind.”
    “You dropped the key. I picked it up at Tesco,” he said. He took a step forward. He handed her the key. The shiny object in his pocket was a key. Nervousness drained out of Darcy’s body.
    “Thank you so much,” Darcy said. She breathed with relief. She quickly opened the door. Smokey went into the door first. She walked up the stairs, holding onto the railing.
    “See you around,” he said. He stepped into his apartment and closed the door. She lingered in the corridor, losing herself in the emptiness.
    She walked into her apartment. The zealous heating system blasted her with a puff of warm air. She forgot to turn it off that morning. Her body took a few seconds to adjust to the warmer surroundings. It was boiling.
    The phone rang again. The vibrations travelled through her stomach, tingling her flesh.
    Michael’s name flashed on the screen. She answered immediately.
    “Darcy?” It was Mike’s voice.
    “Mike. How’s it going?”
    “Good…good.”
    “Hi. I wanted to ask you about a book...” he began.
    “For the article?”
    “Yes. I’m looking for a particular book. I’ve tried looking everywhere, but this book is hard to come by. I was wondering if the university library has it.”
    “Wait a second,” Darcy left her bag on the couch. She produced a piece of paper and a pen. “What’s it called?”
    “ Doppelgänger .”
    Darcy was silent. The clock ticked by.
    “Hello?”
    “I’ll find out,” Darcy said. “I’ll call you back.”
    “Thanks for the favor.”
    “No problem.”
    “Good night.”
    He hung up. Darcy started at the phone.

    At 8:00 PM on Tuesday evening, Darcy stood before a board that read: Jayne Edgar, Psychic. The shop was situated on the second floor of a house in North Lincoln Avenue.
    Darcy’s legs turned instinctively. The door opened. A red-haired woman in her mid-forties emerged from the door.
    “Darcy Godfrey?” she enquired. Darcy’s eyes met the woman’s brown ones.
    “Yes.” she said, clutching her tote.
    “I’m Jayne. You had an appointment?”
    “Umm…yes.” Darcy said.
    Jayne smiled. Her ample cheeks squeezed her eyes, reducing them to straight lines. Her face was flushed. She wore a black dress that extended all the way to the floor.
    “Come in.” Her voice was husky.
    Darcy stepped into the room. She sat on a chair that faced another chair. The window on the right was open. Frail moonlight entered the room. Darcy pulled her coat closer to her body. Jayne closed the window, cutting off the chilly air.
    Darcy placed herself on the chair. She noticed a pack of cards lying on the table. Books on astrology and tarot were arranged messily on the shelf behind the psychic’s chair. Her fingers glided over the smooth surface of the table. The incense stick on the windowsill had almost burned out. It smelled of sandalwood.
    Jayne drew the black curtains over. Darkness fell over the room. Darcy’s violent heartbeat converged into a dim light that hung down from the ceiling. Darcy stared at the square desk that separated her from the psychic. Jayne placed herself on the chair and took a deep breath.
    “Tell me, what brings you here?” Jayne asked,