The Gift of Illusion

Chapter Fifteen





1





Rusty’s Steakhouse was more like a bar than a restaurant. Isaac had frequented the place a few times in the past year, usually after a late night on the job. He and a few other men from his precinct would come to unwind, maybe throw back a few beers, and take bets on the following week’s football lineup. It was a moderately sized place with many rows of booths lining the outside windows and a full liquor bar in the center. About a dozen tall circular tables hugged the bar, tables that generally saw the most action late at night.

Isaac couldn’t remember if he had ever ordered any food before, but it didn’t really matter, they had a big menu and Rusty’s was about as casual as he could think of on short notice. He wasn’t in the market for anything fancy. This old bar would work just fine. This was not a date, just dinner and nothing more.

He pulled out a couple of menus from under a squeeze bottle of ketchup and passed one across the table. The menus were big, more than a few pages, the kind you would expect to see at a late night diner. Minus a breakfast section, Rusty’s had just about anything else you could desire: steak, fish, hamburgers, and chicken cooked a dozen ways. All accompanied by a nice picture. Everything was reasonably priced, too, from their famous steak (as the menu read) down to the last fry, this was a place that could make even the stingiest wallet loosen up and party.

“So what’s good here?” Virginia asked, not looking up from the menu.

“I wish I knew.”

“I thought you said you’d been here before?”

“Yeah, I have. I’ve just never ordered any food.”

Virginia smiled. “Oh, I see. Figured you would test it out on me?”

“That was the plan,” said Isaac, folding his menu up. “Just take a shot. Whatever looks edible, maybe you’ll get lucky. I’m paying so either way I lose.”

“I didn’t know we were playing a game.”

“Oh you didn’t know that?"

A young brunette waitress strolled up to the table. “Hey, how are you guys doing tonight?” she asked.

“Fine, thanks.”

“What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have an iced tea,” said Virginia.

“And you, sir?”

“Just water.”

“All right, are you ready to order? Or do you need another minute to decide?”

Isaac glanced across the table at Virginia still holding her menu tight between her fingers.

“No, I think we’re ready,” said Virginia. “I’ll have the broiled chicken deluxe with crispy fries and coleslaw.”

“Okay,” said the waitress, scribbling fast on a tiny notepad. Then she looked over at Isaac.

“I’ll have the 8oz porterhouse with broccoli and a baked potato,” he said.

“How do you want that steak cooked?”

“Medium.”

“Okay, I’ll put your order in and get those drinks out to you right away. My names Betty, just yell if you need anything.”

Virginia grinned across the table at Isaac. “You really like water, huh?”

Isaac shook his head. “How did I know you would say that?”





2





Amy wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Randy coming to watch over her. She was old enough to take care of herself. Maybe not old enough in the literal sense, but in the staying home alone sense, she was plenty capable. Shit, most of the time Randy didn’t act any older than her, rather the opposite. She wasn’t angry with her father though, if she had to deal with Randy for a short time so he could go out with the lady visitor, then she would do whatever it took. If nothing else, maybe the woman could loosen him up a little.

Randy arrived at the door not five minutes after her father kissed her goodbye. Before letting him in, Amy thought of making a deal with Randy. He could leave, she could pretend he was there, and her father wouldn’t know any different, right? Wrong. Amy knew the deal would fall through. Her father was a detective, a fact she could never forget, and he covered his bases well. Randy wouldn’t take the bait, just like her, he knew that fact as well.

“Well, Randy,” Amy said, opening the door. “I guess you’re my babysitter.”

Randy smiled. “Always.”

He walked into the house and snooped around like he was reacquainting himself with an enemy of the past, this time under better and brighter circumstances. The window at the far end of the dining room caught his eye. He looked back as Amy locked the front door.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Amy turned from the door. “What won’t be necessary?”

“Your father left you in good hands.”

“Yeah, whatever, Randy,” she said. “He also taught me to always lock the door.”

“Is that so?”

Amy walked into the living room, gave Randy a strange look, and then headed to the staircase. She had changed into her blue pajamas just before he arrived and was content on staying upstairs in her room for the remainder of the night. She already had her fix of Randy for the week—for the month. “You can watch television if you want,” she said. “I was just going up to my room.” She headed up the stairs.

“Would you say your father is an intelligent man?”

Amy slowly stepped back down the stairs until she was on the first floor again. “What are you talking about, Randy?”

“An intelligent person would realize that even though the door is locked you are in no less danger,” he said. “The best way in is not always the easiest, or the most obvious. Safety is nothing more than an illusion.”

Amy couldn't tell if Randy was drunk or just trying to pull over a bad joke, either way she felt uncomfortable with him being here. “Randy,” she said, softly. “Are you all right? You’re acting kind of strange.”

“No, I’m not all right.” Randy turned toward the front door. “Maybe I should leave.” He only made it halfway to the door before collapsing to his knees. He used his arms to brace himself before his head could hit the tile floor.

Amy squealed and ran over by his side. “Are you okay?”

Randy slowly picked his head up and peered over at Amy. “I told you I wasn’t.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Help me up,” said Randy. “Please.”

Amy froze for a second then grabbed Randy and helped bring him to his feet. When she let go, Randy stumbled recklessly into the living room, eventually finding himself back on the floor.

“What’s going on?” he cried, his face sweltering.

“May God damn you," Amy said. "As He has damned me!”





3





It took less than twenty minutes to get their order, and overall, the food didn’t look much worse than the picture. Halfway through the meal Virginia left the table to use the restroom. Isaac used this time to gather his thoughts. He still wasn’t sure what to think of Ms. Maples, she was a wonderfully intelligent woman, but any sort of relationship beyond a casual friendship seemed completely out of the question. They were temporary business partners. They would meet for a short time, make a few deals, and then go their separate ways. This wasn’t exactly the way Isaac wanted things to be, but this was the way they would be. Maybe if they had met at a different time and under different circumstances something could have evolved, maybe even love, but Isaac knew those days were over. If it wasn’t for Amy, Isaac Winters may as well have died sixteen years ago alongside his wife, at least then the pain would be gone.

Virginia returned a minute later from the restroom, sliding back on to her stool across from Isaac. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I don’t remember. Was I saying something?”

“I think.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” said Isaac. The waitress stopped by the table to refill the drinks then continued on her way to the kitchen. “Probably wasn’t important anyway.”

“So what are you thinking?” Virginia asked, starting to dig back into her meal.

“What am I thinking?”

“You know, about being here. With me. Is it as terrible as you imagined?”

Isaac stopped cutting at his steak and slumped back in his stool. “That’s a good question.” He took a deep breath then leaned closer to the table. “Do you want me to be honest? Or would you prefer I lie?”

“Honest, of course.”

“Honestly, I’m thinking I never should have come here,” he said. “And not because of you. I knew what I was getting myself into and I knew I would feel uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” Virginia whispered. “Then why did you come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Amy really wanted me to.”

“Are you sure that’s why?”

“I’m not really sure of anything these days,” he said. “It’s been impossible to focus on a clear thought lately. But I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready for all of this.” He paused and took another deep breath before gazing into Virginia’s dark brown eyes. “For a date.”

“I thought this wasn’t a date?”

“I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“I know,” she said. “And I didn’t get the wrong idea. I can tell when someone is uncomfortable, that’s why I asked.”

“So you have no problem with it then?”

“No, why would I have a problem with it? It’s not like I expect there to ever be something between us. But I’m open to try anything.”

Isaac nodded. “I understand. I’m glad you brought it out into the open. I feel better already.”

Virginia put down her fork, reached across the table, and placed her hand on Isaac’s. “Look, I know what you’ve been through, and I’m not going to pretend to know how that must feel,” she whispered. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, someone that will listen, I’m here.”

“How do you know what I’ve been through?”

“You think you’re the only one in the world who knows how to investigate? This was a strange situation, and I needed to know who you were if I was going to be able to help you. After I talked to you on the phone, I went to the library. I ran through any old newspapers you were mentioned, which was quite a few, though only the oldest of the group stood out. It was from, January 1995.” She squeezed his hand and gave a small, heartening smile. “I admit I stumbled on more than I bargained for, and maybe it’s wrong for me to even speak of it now, if so, I’m dearly sorry. I just wanted to let you know how I felt.”

Isaac took a long sip of water then pushed his plate toward the end of the table.

“You know, that morning, as I recovered in the hospital. I remember thinking so clearly. How could I let this happen? I thought of all the things over the years that I should have done differently. All the stupid, selfish things I'd done that I wished I could take back. I thought of all the years we spent trying to have a child together, and the joy in her face when she first held Amy. How she would never see Amy take her first step, or be there on her first day of school. I wanted to tell her so many things. I wanted to tell her I loved her one last time. But I couldn't. She was gone. I had this vision in my head of what my future would be like, and she was always there beside me. We were still young and had so much to look forward to. Our whole lives ahead of us. I thank God for Amy, she's all I have left.”

“I think it’s good to focus on the positive things in life.”

“I try,” he said. “I really do. But sometimes I still can’t help that feeling. It has stayed with me all these years, eating away. How could I let this happen? How?”

Virginia squeezed Isaac‘s hand again, tighter. “It wasn’t your fault.”

How many times had he heard that line over the years? Dozens. It seemed so easy to say, yet so impossible to believe. It was all a matter of perspective; the hole always appears much deeper when you’re looking up from the bottom.

“You don’t know how much I want to believe that.”

Upon leaving Rusty’s, the conversation shifted to a lighter note. Isaac paid for dinner, like he said he would, and had no problem doing so. Overall, he was glad he had decided to go out for the night, it almost seemed like his worries had vanished in an instant. On the drive home, he told funny stories of things Amy had done growing up. All the while, Virginia sat back, listened, and laughed along with him. Everything appeared to be going great, until he pulled into the driveway and noticed Amy’s car missing, and the lights off in the house.

Isaac rushed out of the car, not bothering to shut the door, and dashed around the front of the house. Virginia followed close enough behind to safely stay out of his way. As he reached the front door a supercharged bolt of lightning struck down in the distance. Seconds later, thunder.

This isn't happening.

He fumbled with his keys on the lock, then swung open the door. The sweet aroma hit him like a gust of cold air, brisk and chilling, nearly knocking him off his feet; it was a smell he had hoped to never witness again, and it only helped confirm his worst fear. He braced himself against the door. Virginia stepped up from behind and placed her hand upon his shoulder. The switch on the wall would bring his fear into the light—tear his heart out from his chest. He could already feel the clammy hands clawing from within, ready to steal the last part of him that was human.

It would all end here. It would all end now.

His fingers scratched at the wall, searching for the switch, and then finally fell upon it.

As the light awoke the dark room, an eternity passed in an instant. Isaac sensed his heart jump out of his body and stop beating right before his eyes. He tried to breathe but his throat felt thin and dry, as though it had been stuffed full with chalk. His fear lay out in front of him, just like he had imagined, though not in the manner he had expected.

The dark ash pressed against the coffee table was not that of his daughter, but of Randy Wilson. The body had been almost completely burned like the others, from the bottom of the feet all the way to the neck. Randy's head, however, remained virtually unscathed. The mouth frozen in a snarl. Eyes open. Staring at the ceiling.

Isaac slowly stepped further into the room, not taking his eyes off of the body. The room seemed to shrink the closer he moved, but still he continued forward, until at last he looked straight down into the black graveyard of ash. He wanted to both scream and cry at the same time as anger and sadness waged war within him. The feeling was not unusual; he had felt it before.

None of this was new.

The dark house.

The storm.

The broken window.

The body.

He had been here before, and now something wanted him to come back. Something wanted to give him another chance. It was all a test, and even after sixteen years of guilt, torment, and doubt, he had failed again.

Isaac ran past Virginia and back out into the rain. She watched him hurry across the yard to the house next door, and then followed behind. When she arrived at the door, half soaked in rain, Isaac was already inside. The door was wide open, knocking back and forth against the rubber doorstop. She waited at the entrance for a second, peering around the corner into the kitchen, before continuing forward down the hall. The house smelled much the same as Isaac’s, though not near as sweet and fresh. She was almost to the edge of the living room when she heard Isaac yell from the back of the house.

Isaac was at the doorway to the master bedroom. He stepped out of the way and let her enter the room. On the far side of the room, at the top of the bed, were the hands of Randy’s bride-to-be tied to the headboard. The rest of her was piled on the mattress. Virginia backed out of the room, at first unaware that Isaac had left, and then hurried down the hall not wanting to be alone.

She followed Isaac into the garage, stood back against the wall, and peered down at yet another body of ash. Tonight was the first time she’d seen the devastation Lucius brought back from the grave and there were absolutely no words to describe it. A part of her hoped she could take back everything she had said the previous night, forget she knew anything, and go on with her life as though none of this mattered. For the first time since she shared her knowledge with Isaac, Virginia was truly scared of what was to come of it. But there was no backing out now. She would stand by his side and help however she could to bring Amy safely back to her father.

Isaac left the garage, exited the house, and sauntered back across the yard. A large bolt of lightning split the dark sky behind him. He made it to the front steps, brushed the door open, and stepped inside. His mind wandered back into familiar territory; a dark and dusty closet of feelings, and the words came back to him again. He stepped backwards against the wall and slid down to the floor. He lowered his head into his hands. “How could I let this happen?”

Virginia stood in the doorway, her face expressionless.

“You can leave now,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not leaving. I'm going to help you find your daughter.”

“There’s nothing to find. Don‘t you understand? She‘s dead,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “And that’s my fault.”

Virginia leaned down next to Isaac. “None of this is your fault,” she said. “Why are you so quick to give up? I don‘t think she’s dead.”

“Because I’ve been down this road before and I know where it leads."

“Isaac, I know you’re scared, so am I, but how do you think she feels? Imagine what’s going through her head. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does. But how do you know she's even alive? I mean take a look,” he said, pointing at the body of ash a few feet away. “Look what happens. If she's dead then I don’t want to see it.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but please just trust me. I don’t think your daughter is dead. Lucius made you a part of this. He wants you to come after her, and he knows that you will. He wants to see you suffer. He wants to see how far you will go.”

“So you’re saying I should give him what he wants? Play right into his game?”

“What other choice do you have?”

Isaac bowed his head again. She was right, and he knew what he had to do, but he was scared of the consequences, scared that Amy would fall to the same fate as Randy, as his wife many years ago, and that he would be there to witness it. “Where do you think he took her?”

Virginia stood back up and paced around the room. “Well,” she said, searching for an idea. “I really don‘t know.”

“You see, he could be anywhere,” said Isaac. “How am I supposed to find my daughter? I‘ve been following this thing around for a week. I always show up late, and that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

“Yeah, but this time I think he wants you to come after him. He wants to lead you to him, or to your daughter.”

Isaac stretched his legs out then pulled himself to his feet. “If he’s supposed to be leading me then he’s doing a pretty shitty job. If you were him, where would you take her?”

“Where would I take her?” Virginia repeated. “That’s a good question.” She continued to pace around the living room. “I would probably take her somewhere familiar. Somewhere that I could—” She stopped as her eyes fell upon the black face of The Immortal resting on the coffee table, and the answer seemed so clear. “Home. He took her home.”

Isaac peered down at the book and nodded. For some reason, the thought had never crossed his mind; he never believed it would end there. Fate had dealt him the worst hand, but he would make do with what he had. Perseverance, and a still beating heart.

They left the house in silence and began the journey into the unknown. Virginia drove while Isaac sat back and watched the rain beat down on the windshield. He called Simmons to let him know what had happened, and to hurry and meet them. With one look at the sky, it was apparent that the storm would not let up for some time; it would follow them to the end, for tonight there was too much at stake.

The car sped down Maria Avenue, past the church, to the stone mansion at the end.