Schneider - Into the Dark

Into the Dark

A Novel

J.A. Schneider

Publisher Information

Into the Dark is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, institutions or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2019 J.A. Schneider.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, store in a retrieval system, or transmit this book, in any part thereof, in any form or by any means whatsoever, whether now existing or devised at a future time, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

Find out more about the author and her other books at http://jaschneiderauthor.net

Books by J.A. Schneider

The EMBRYO medical thrillerseries, 6 books

HomicideDetective Kerri Blasco Police/Psychological Thrillers:

FEAR DREAMS

A sensitive woman fears insanity.Intuitive Detective Kerri Blasco tries to unravel the truth of what reallyhaunts her

HER LAST BREATH

Mari Gill woketo horror in a strange bed next to a murdered man, and cant remember the nightbefore. Detective Kerri Blasco battles her police bosses believing Mari isinnocentbut is she?

WATCHING YOU

A serial killer texts hisvictims first but how does he get their phone numbers? Detective Kerri Blascovows revenge. He comes after her.

SHOELESS CHILD

A little boy has seen a horrific murderbut is too traumatized to speak. Detective Kerri Blasco struggles to connectwith him

Astandalone thriller

INTO THE DARK

A perfect marriage deteriorates as a woman starts to fear that herhusband is a killer.

For Bob, always

Into the Dark

A young couple arguing.That is how it began: with two young people going at it on a bench, inWashington Square Park in Greenwich Village, on a gloomy March day.

AnnieLamb found it hard to ignore them. Their voices rose, and she peeked up againfrom her reading. The dark-haired young man and the small blonde were twobenches down and across from her. He was controlling, she was protesting. Anniesheart clenched. Dont get involved started its own fight with Do theright thing. She could not have known how sad, foolish, and human thesecond choice would be. She would be frightened to learn, later, how choosingthe caring action might kill her.

Thepair escalated. The young man yelled, squeezed the girls wrist. She cried outand tried to pull away. He yanked her back down, snarling obscenities, twistingher arm

AndAnnie straightened.

Knockit off! she scolded, every maternal instinct kicking in. The young man glared,rose and lunged toward her, fists clenched. Annie raised her phone and took hispicture; took a second one of both of them. Click, click! He stopped;sneered. Near his black-jacketed chest he savagely flipped her the bird as the girljumped up behind him, weeping, running from the park. He took off after her.

Itwas over in seconds.

Anniewatched them race past shrubs and the still-turned-off fountain. Her heartthudded. She tried to get it to ease.

Thenlooked around, feeling uncertain.

Noone else had reacted. Not a soul seemed even to notice what was probably just twokids having a quarrel. On the bench facing Annie, a man had barely glanced upfrom his phone. No reaction either from two women walking past, gabbing,pushing their bored-looking toddlers in strollers. For the hundredth time,Annie the perpetual small town girl wondered if it was her or New York. Some youngwoman got treated roughly? Didnt see a thing!

Mountainsout of molehills again?

Sheheard her husbands subtly exasperated sigh, and bit her lip. Dont analyzeme! Ben was okay, charming and too good-looking to be a shrink, but hetended to bring his patients problems home. Annie dealt with it.

Onthe other hand fess up. Lately she had made a few mountains out ofmolehills, and that was bad, because a terrible anniversary was approaching:April third, the date Bens first wife, Susannah, took her life. It stillcaused him pain. They didnt speak of it.

ButAnnie thought about ita lot, especially lately. Her dreams were resuming, too;worse than theyd been at this time last year. This morning, a Friday near theend of March, she had awakened fearful and crying. Ben had rolled to her in bedand been caring, really tender asking what the problem was, and she said nothing.Just a nightmare.

Somenightmare. Susannah drowningagain. Annie saw herself walk into their bathroom,and there was Susannah in the tub, her blond hair swirling

Itwas a recurrent dream, and that was hours ago, just before waking. Now it wastwo; Annies sense of dread persisted, and her stolen forty minutes in the parkhadnt helped.

Exhalinga huge, pent-up breath, she uncrossed her booted legs and got up, started towalk. The park was gray and depressing, with the fountain an unloved stone craterand few people filling the paths, the chess tables and playgrounds. A mantrudged past pulling the leash of his drooping dachshund, who clearly wanted tobe out of the gloom.

Youand me both, pup, Annie thought.

Passingmore benches and leafless trees, she looked again at her photos of the feudingcouple. Something about the girl was familiar the high, wide brow and cheekbones- but her face was crumpled in tears so it was hard to tell. Kids at the U,where Annie taught art history, were always passing in the halls, on thestairs, calling out in the bars and chow places of the Village. A lot of themlooked like her.

Anniefretted, wondering where the girl was now, and if she was safe.

Thenshe saw her again.

OnUniversity Place, there she was coming toward Annie but no, it was alookalike chatting with friends, lugging her knapsack and cuddling a differentyoung man. He was smoking a joint; she was playfully trying to grab it. Apolice car slowed, its uniformed driver eyeing them. They ignored him, laughed.He glared and drove off. A typical scene. Annie was used to cops, detectives inunmarked cars. They were called often to the Us off-campus apartments andclassroom buildings. More than once shed been interviewed after assaults.

Theair turned colder. Shivering, she zipped her parka higher, deciding not tomention at dinner what shed seen in the park. It would be upsettingplus Colinwas coming. Bens son still wore the pain of losing his mother. Almost nineteen,he had missed a year of school because of the tragedy. Annie had helped tutorhim. In her nearly four years of marriage, shed been loving and supportive tohim.

Lightentheir load, both of them.

Onthe other hand, Dopey, she stormed at herself, isnt it time you lightened yourown load?

Shewalked faster.

Giventhe awful approaching date, and work and family pressures and trying to keepher wounded birds happy, Annies stress level had lately been through the roof.

Hermind speeded up, forgetting the crowded sidewalk, recalling the breaknecktreadmill shed been on for as long as she could remember. Scholarships, parttime jobs, and little sleep had gotten her through college and grad school to ajob as assistant professor here at the U. Now she was balancing teaching withmothering her almost four-year-old daughter, Emma, and trying to be a goodstepmom and wife excuse me second wife. Shed taken a pay cut, teaching oneclass less so she could be free to drop Emma at preschool in the morning andpick her up at five; then, daily, shed worry about dinner and bath time and readme a story, Mommy, before she got back to marking exams and term papers.She had dark circles under her eyes, and recently cut a few inches off her long,dark hair.