Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series

by Tanya R. Taylor

  As she picked up the last batch of entries to send through the computer's memory, she suddenly felt a rigid grip on her shoulder and immediately panicked, fearful that some lunatic had padded past Welly and was there to gruesomely murder her.

  Her heart pounded as she felt the twist of the squealing chair, when suddenly, she beheld the face of the man she adored, looking down, smiling at her. Her heartbeat soon decelerated and her frown altered to a wide smile.

  "Mister Hillard, how dare you scare me like that!" She exclaimed.

  "You're so beautiful, Jan," Richard said, staring into her big, brown eyes. "Let's get out of here and go somewhere private."

  "Sure. Why not?" Jan quickly replied." She switched off the proofing machine, assembled the ledger entries and secured them in the vault. As they walked through the foyer and saw Welly sleeping, Janice said, "That guy has to be pregnant."

  Richard smiled, but inside he really laughed, and it was by no means at the same joke.

  Welly always kept the keys on the inside of the main door just in case he was asleep and someone wanted to leave the building. Richard opened the door and allowed Janice to exit first. Then he adjusted the key the way it was, so that the door would automatically lock behind them. For security reasons, during banking hours, a security guard was assigned to open the door from the inside because it automatically locked after being closed.

  Deciding to drive in separate cars, Richard led the way in his steamy, red convertible. During the drive, his eyes beamed brightly and he focused on what he thought would be an ostensibly perfect spot to stop. Just past an old, deserted gas station, he spotted an alleyway and pulled up in front of it. He glanced back at Janice through his rear-view mirror who was slowly approaching in her white Chrysler Lebaron. Richard got out of the car and started toward the alley. It was nearly dark by then and no one was in sight.

  "We're stopping here?" Janice asked, shutting the door of her car.

  Without a word, Richard motioned for her to follow and continued into the alley.

  Feeling a bit adventurous herself, Janice heeded with a smile confident that with him, she would be safe. Richard stopped about midway through and leaned up against the wall, eagerly awaiting her. As Janice approached, she felt butterflies in her stomach and was now even more captivated by her dashing, young beau. Her red, knee-high dress had ridden up just slightly due to the drive and as soon as she arrived, Richard grabbed her into his arms and pulled her against his heated frame.

  Raking the sleeves off her shoulders, he uttered, "You have the perfect body…the perfect soul." Then he whispered in her ear, "We come as wolves…" The mysterious statement sent chills up Janice's spine and before she had time to respond, Richard kissed her, pulling her tongue with such intensity that for the sake of passion, she closed her eyes and bore the pain. Wholly submerged in erotic intoxication, Janice opened them moments later to find herself staring into the blazing green eyes of a hideous beast. The hair on Richard's body had thickened immensely while his nails elongated and yellowed. Janice instantly tried to escape, but to no avail since the beast had her lip-locked with such force that it was impossible for her to move. The monster's rigid, muscular body pressed against her small, human frame had turned her initial moan to a groan, then finally…a gasp.

  When it had accomplished its ghastly mission, the beast again transformed itself into the person his colleagues had come to admire and he went on his merry way.

  * 7 *

  Solange immediately went in search of any clues she could connect to Greg's past within that house. She started in his bedroom by turning over the mattress, pulling out every drawer and opening every bin and box she could find - including the ones in the closet. Finding nothing of any interest, she proceeded to search through the remainder of the house. Unsure of what she was actually looking for, she was fairly certain that Greg had a family and now a skeleton that might belong to his wife was in the cellar, and there was no trace of the boys. Still bearing in mind her own troubling past and the risk of involving herself in any criminal investigation, she felt obligated to at least uncover any clues that might possibly help the police.

  Solange searched everywhere she could possibly think of. Yet, she emerged empty-handed. She sat on her bed amazed that she could not locate even one photograph of Greg or any of his family members in that house. It seemed awfully cold to her that he would murder the people he was supposed to love and then attempt to erase even the very memory of their existence from his life.

  Feeling a headache coming on, she lay back in bed and closed her eyes. She kept envisioning the gruesome sight hidden in the cellar below and was now more uneasy about remaining in the house for even another second. Failing to uncover any clues that could assist the police in their investigation, she decided just then to pack her bag and leave the house immediately, then to inform the police of the only evidence she did find.

  With sadness and anxiety about the whole situation weighing heavily upon her, she got up, slid open her underwear drawer and stuffed the roll of cash she had been saving for months, in her brassiere, then grabbed her duffle bag out of the closet and started to pack She wondered what type of monster she had been living with for all those months and felt extremely grateful to be leaving that house alive. "Thank God!" She said, looking up with tears flowing down her cheeks. "I could have been a victim too." She double checked the drawers to make sure she wasn't leaving anything of value behind, then headed for the front door. Recalling what Hazel had said about Greg's wife and children never leaving the property, she turned toward the kitchen and opened the back door. Stepping onto the back porch, she visibly appraised the entire backyard thinking that somewhere in the ground were the bodies of those two precious boys who had been put there by the hands of their own father. After a few moments, she went back inside and closed the door behind her, confident that once the police found located the skeleton inside the house, they would automatically search the yard for the two missing boys. She knew there was nothing more she could do.

  Solange again headed for the front door and inadvertently touching her neck, she stopped, realizing only then that she wasn't wearing the necklace Victor had given her the day she left France. Panicked, she set her luggage down immediately and went through the house in search of the necklace. She couldn't leave without it. It was the last thing her beloved Victor had given to her.

  After back-tracking her steps and looking in every room, Solange returned to the living room and slumped onto the sofa in despair. She had even poked her finger down the faucet and tub drainers in desperate hopes that the necklace might be stuck there, but it was nowhere to be found. "Where in the world could it have fallen?" She asked herself. As promised, she had never taken the necklace off, so she knew it must have slipped off somewhere. Then suddenly, she remembered the last time she saw it on her neck was in the mirror the previous morning while disrobing for her morning shower. Then came another thought: 'The cellar - that's where it must have slipped off!'

  She got up and dragged the rug away from the cellar door, then lifted the lid and looked inside the room. She was beginning to hate the very atmosphere of the house, especially that of the cellar. She opened the lid wider, then slowly descended into the room. At the bottom, she switched on the light and carefully searched the floor. Straining her eyes to see around the dimly-lit room, she started thinking that she might have to dash upstairs to find a search-light when right in front of the secret, locked room, she clearly spotted her necklace. Relieved, Solange quickly went over and picked it up off the floor and noticing that the clasp had broken, stashed it deeply inside her pants pocket. Just then, the cellar door opened and she heard footsteps descending to the bottom. A few moments later, she saw Greg standing on the bottom stair, staring at her and shaking his head. Solange was paralyzed. He shouldn't have been there.

  Eight

  _______________

  THE SEARCH

  * 1 *

  Trent was paid a visit by th
e local police at work the following morning. Tina showed them in and left. One of the officers was a tall, lean, austere-looking man with sharp features who wore tiny spectacles that sat comfortably on his nose. The other was a short, pudgy fellow with a prickly beard and brown, close-cropped hair.

  "Good morning, Mister Matheson," the tall one started on entering the office. "I'm Lieutenant Sparkman and this here is Detective Quint. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions. We won't take up much of your time."

  "Gentlemen…" Trent extended a handshake then showed them a seat.

  "Mister Matheson, do you have an employee by the name of Janice Moore?" Sparkman asked, crossing his legs.

  "Yes. What's this all about?" Trent replied.

  "Her body was discovered in an alley late last night, sir. Appears that she had been murdered."

  Trent's heart sank. "Murdered? Oh God." He paused for a moment. "Why in the world would someone want to murder her?"

  "That's what we're hoping to find out," Quint interjected.

  "Mister Matheson, did Miss Moore happen to mention to you or anyone else to your knowledge what her plans were after work yesterday?" Sparkman continued.

  "No. She didn't say anything to me, but I think she stayed behind last night with a few others. Maybe she said something to one of them."

  "Would you happen to have a list of people who worked late last evening?" Sparkman probed.

  "We keep records of those things. Give me a minute please." Trent picked up the phone and asked Tina to quickly locate the time-sheets for him. While waiting, the three men sat quietly. Detective Quint twiddled his thumbs.

  Tina walked in a few minutes later. "The time-sheets you requested, Sir…" she handed them to Trent.

  "Thanks Tina." Trent started perusing them as Tina left. He quickly flipped through the pages, scribbled down the names of the over-timers on a separate sheet of paper, then handed it to Sparkman.

  "Do you mind if we take a look at the others you didn't record?" Asked Quint, who had a propensity for 'leaving no stone un-turned'.

  "Not at all," Trent replied handing over the whole file to Quint.

  "We'd like to interrogate these people along with some other members of your staff," Sparkman said after reviewing the time-sheets.

  "Certainly. Anything that would help solve the case," Trent replied. “Since clients are occasionally in and out of here, maybe it would be a good idea if you guys used one or two of the cubicles out there and I'll have those people who worked last night see you one at a time. After that, you can question the others."

  The detectives agreed to the suggestion and Trent led them to a cubicle at the far right corner of the floor.

  One by one, employees walked in and out, evidently shocked by the horrible news. Trent observed the entire scene from his office and also the distinctive expression on Richard Hillard's face as he left the cubicle. Tina was shaken up and did not know if the detectives considered her a suspect in Janice's murder since the entire office could have easily testified that the two women were rivals. Trent tried to make her see that her alibi was tight and that she had nothing to worry about.

  After the officers left, he walked over to Richard's office. At the door, he observed Richard sitting at the huge glass window gazing at the street below. Papers were scattered over the desk and from the looks of things and understandably so in Trent's mind, it seemed as if he was not getting much headway as far as work was concerned that day.

  Trent tapped lightly on the door. "May I come in?" He asked.

  Richard turned around. It looked as if he had been crying. "Sure, Mister Matheson."

  Trent walked over to him. "Richard, I can't tell you how sorry I am about Janice. I understand that you two had gotten really close. She was a wonderful girl and she didn't deserve to die that way."

  "I'd like to get the bastard who snuffed out her life like that!" Richard snarled. "She was so special to me, Mister Matheson. I never cared for any other woman the way I cared for her. The day before she died, we even talked about getting married one day."

  "Married?" Trent was shocked. "But you guys only knew each other for a short while."

  "That's true, sir, but we loved each other very much. Does it take months or years to know that you love someone?" Richard spoke passionately.

  Trent shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out the window. "I guess not." A few moments of silence ensued, then Trent finally said: "Hey, did Jan mention anything to you that might somehow assist the police in their investigations?"

  "No, sir," Richard replied. "All I know is that after she and I wrapped things up here yesterday evening, I invited her out for a drink, but she said she would take a rain-check because she was exhausted. I walked her to her car, watched her leave the parking lot and that's the last time I saw her." He started to cry and Trent truly felt sorry for him.

  Before leaving, he again offered Richard his sympathy and truly hoped that Janice's killer would be quickly apprehended. The remainder of the day, Richard kept pretty much to himself and assisted no one.

  * 2 *

  "So, I see you've been sneaking around here," Greg said sternly. "All this time I trusted you and you slither around this house like a little snake in the grass!" He yanked her by the arm and pulled her upstairs into the living room. "I guess everything can't remain a secret forever. Can it?" He smiled coldly as he pushed her onto the sofa.

  "I want to know why you did it, Greg; why you murdered those people - your own flesh and blood!" Solange blurted.

  As if suddenly feeling some compunction, Greg hung his head down. "It was an accident," he started. "I just lost my mind. I had no idea what I was doing."

  "But you were shrewd enough to hide your wife in the cellar down there, right? Where are your sons, Greg? What have you done with the boys?!"

  He grabbed her up again and shoved her against the wall. "You're all alike! I pick you up off the street, bring you here, give you everything you need, and then you turn on me, huh? You wanna know why I did it, Liza? Well, I'm gonna tell you." He turned and started pacing the floor. "Mary Ann reminded me of my mother... the mother I loved so much, but who didn't give a damn about me. I gave Mary Ann everything. I catered to her like she was royalty and got nothing in return; I got sick and tired of it. She went ahead and added more fuel to the fire by having, not just one child, but two even after I specifically told her from the get-go that I didn't want any kids. I deserved more respect than that! So, one day, I just snapped and the rest is history." He stopped suddenly and looked back at Solange. Then if moved by something menacing, he rushed over and pinched her cheek with his cold, rough fingers. She winced and fought back the tears.

  "But Liza, I thought you were different until I noticed that after all of these months of me treating you like a queen, giving you everything you needed, you didn't think anything of me either. You just wanted to remain house-mates. Do you think that's what I wanted? Do you think that's why I brought you here in the first place?! I didn't need a house-mate. I needed someone to love me. But I don't need you anymore. You're just like Mary Ann - like all the rest!" He looked into her eyes having no idea of the depth of anger and malice that now clouded them.

  "Where are the boys, Greg?" Solange demanded.

  "The boys? What boys?"

  His lack of contrition sickened her and right then she wished she could have done to him what she did to Ferdinand, but she knew that by even entertaining those thoughts, she would be just like him.

  "Now back to what I was saying…" Greg evenly proceeded. "Yes, I can live without you, Liza, especially since you were thinking of leaving me anyway. I see your bag down there all packed and ready to go. I'll be more than happy to send you on your way and have you join my loving family."

  Just then, the doorbell rang. Greg shoved Solange onto the sofa again and quietly said: "Stay there. One move or sound out of you and I swear, I'll kill whoever's standing at that door."

  He went over and opened the
door slightly, concealing as much of the interior of the house as possible with his frame. Hazel was standing on his front porch.

  "Hi, Hazel. Nice to see you again," he said.

  "Likewise, Gregory. Is Liza home?" She asked, obviously in no mood for chatter.

  "Oh, didn't she tell you? She moved out earlier today. She really didn't plan on staying here forever, you know."

  Hazel didn't seem surprised by his answer. "I see."

  "Well, that's what friends are like, huh? They take our charity and leave us hanging." There was a brief pause. "Well, anyway, Hazel, my bath's getting cold, so I gotta go. Nice seeing you, eh?" He closed the door in her face, then a few moments later, turned and smiled at Solange. "Think she's gone?" He whispered. "Maybe not. I'll go check." He peeked out of the window and saw that Hazel was walking away.

  "Greg, why are you doing this?" Solange asked. "Why don't you just turn yourself in? You're only making things worse on yourself!"

  "I don't need your advice!" He snarled. "I was doing just fine here without you." He grabbed Solange by the hair and while she stood to her feet struggling against him, he covered her mouth with his hand and said firmly, "If you scream, it will be the last thing you do." Seeing the emptiness in his eyes, Solange knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word. Still holding her by the hair, he bent down, lifted the cellar door and shoved her inside the dark space, then trailed behind her. Solange caught the rail to prevent herself from tumbling down the stairs. She hurried down and crawled towards a corner of the dark room. Then she felt something nearby and gripped it tightly. As soon as Greg switched on the light, she jumped up and held the three-foot, pvc pipe at defense mode.