tagRomanceThe Entity Pt. 03

The Entity Pt. 03


This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment.


Chapter 6

Fox News – Republican presidential hopeful, Kerry Richards, put a face on the high cost of housing today when he donned blue jeans and a cotton work shirt and was filmed hammering away at one of the democratic parties pet projects, Home Quest, that grew out of a bill pushed through the Senate two years ago that builds and sells one family, low income housing, selling them to qualified candidates at cost with no interest loans. Some speculate Richards made a two run homerun, also attacking those that criticize his advanced years. At 71 many think Richards would be hard pressed to win a second term in office, that is, if he were able to complete his first term. Richards could be seen literally sweating it out as the crew he worked with installed the interior walls of the three bedroom dwelling. His campaign manager said the presence of a paramedic team and ambulance was routine. Accidents do happen, Richards campaign manager quipped.


A private nurse scanned the array of beeping, whirring equipment and looked at the bundle of bones in the huge four poster bed. An ancient grandfather clock chimed four times telling the nurse it was four in the morning and she stood to check the drip.

She really didn't know who the woman was but she did know a little about Waverly Hill and now, in the wee hours of the morning, the place gave her the creeps.

Theodora was dreaming of late night dances, Pierce Arrows and zeppelins. The birthplace of her journey.

It was ironic that the last breath of the most important man in her life had been drawn here, in this very building, on this very floor, over 70 years ago. More ironic that the first breath of his second life should be drawn at that same place.


The doctor stepped aside and ceded to the stunning, red headed beauty with emerald green eyes. Her heels clicked on the polished floor as she strode into her fathers room.

Theodora didn't gasp, nor did she turn away from the pale bag of flesh, face ashen, eyes closed, that beckoned feebly with a withered hand.

Back straight as an arrow, an air of prideful defiance, she walked to her father's bedside and clasped his withered claw in her hand. No reaction could be seen to the cold damp feeling it left on her palm. No tears of regret.

Leaning down, she whispered close to his ear, "It's me father. I'm here beside you."

His eyes fluttered and finally managed to open halfway. She could tell he wasn't looking at her. She thought he might not be seeing anything at all.

A putrid odor preceded a wet soggy sound and she moved her ear quickly over his mouth to try and catch his words.

A second attempt brought a mumble and some pink spittle that landed on her cheek to slide slowly toward her chin. No move was made to wipe it away.

Moving back to his ear she whispered once again. "Yes, father, I'm here. I love you father."

His grip suddenly became strong, much as she recalled him when she was much younger, his huge, rough hand pulling her down their backyard to the beach so they could play in the waves.

Positioning her ear over his mouth she listened again. Finally he was able to form words.

"There's enough, Teddy. Enough for twenty lifetimes" he stopped to take a ragged, sloppy breath and continued, "The trick, Teddy, is to live long enough to enjoy it."

With that his hand relaxed and Theodora thought death had finally taken him. Straightening slightly she watched his chest. Suddenly the hand beckoned her close again as he drew his last, wet, wheezy breath.

"Keep me in your heart, Teddy, keep me alive."

The hand fell limp and she finally became aware of how cold it was. Pulling back she searched his pale green eyes for any sign of life. One of the nurses raised the back of her hand to her mouth when Theodora leaned over and kissed her father's open, blood covered mouth.

Pulling back she whispered, "I'll always love you father."

With that she dropped the hand and turned on her heel. Back straight as an arrow again, no move to wipe the pink spittle from her cheek or blood from her mouth, she strode from the room, turned down the hall and was gone.

She knew there was nothing left for her in her father's room. The most important thing on earth had just left.

Ducking into the back of the red Duisenberg, Henry Bartholomew handed her a thick envelope. As they drove around the circular, tree lined drive to leave, Theodora chanced a glance back at the red brick façade and one small tear fell from her emerald green eyes.

Later that night, at the estate, she spoke quietly with Bartholomew. It was difficult to fathom a fortune that neared a billion dollars in 1920. Even more difficult to understand that the majority of the Miller wealth was hidden away and that only a hand full of people even understood that Theodora Elizabeth Miller was now the wealthiest, most powerful person on earth. Richer than many countries.

Born in 1890 to Thomas Lee and Elizabeth Ann Miller in a small town just outside of Chicago, Theodora was actually a twin. Something she learned of when she turned ten. She was told her sister died at birth and nothing further was said of the matter.

Pain and heartbreak hit when she turned fourteen. Her mother found herself pregnant much later in life than expected. She'd watched her father watch over and care for her during the pregnancy only to have happiness taken away during childbirth when both mother and child died.

"We're off to California, Teddy. This place saddens me now."

California had been good to them. Her father had arrived in time for the oil boom and the gold rush. Teddy had flourished at their estate by the sea. She recalled many late evenings frolicking in the waves and languishing on the sandy beach.

The month of her eighteenth birthday saw orchestras, balls and oriental lanterns on the lawn of the huge estate. Would be suitors stood in waiting, as much to share the wealth, as to get a chance at ravishing the stunning redhead that would hang on their arm.

It was the drawn, haunted look of quiet sadness on her father's face that finally brought an end to that long summer of wine, roses and dance.

Late in august Teddy bade farewell to her latest suitor at the front door of their mansion and walked up the wide, spiral staircase to her bedroom. There, Lupita helped her undress and was surprised when her mistress asked that a bath be drawn. After almost an hour of primping and preening, her long red hair brushed to a high luster, Lupita was surprised again, and giggled, when her mistress requested only her white silk robe.

"Which one is it, Miss Miller? Is it that tall blond one I saw you dance the last dance with?"

No answer was given and Lupita was dismissed. Stepping out onto the cold marble of the balcony that overlooked the foyer, Teddy padded quietly to her fathers study. A dim glow came from beneath the door.

Pausing long enough to undo the sash of her robe and let it slide from her shoulders, she grasped the crystal door knob and walked in without knocking.

"I'm here father. Your, Teddy."


Linda sat stunned reading the line a fourth time. Tammy only waited.

'Are you there, Linda?'

Tammy stood and pointed at the floor in front of the laptop.

Linda raised her hands with trepidation and typed.

'Yes. I'm here.'

'How do I know this is really you?'

Linda continued to stare. Hands floating off the keyboard. Finally she started typing.

'I'm, Linda Woo, of the Internet Crime Bureau. Who are you?'

'Someone you knew once. Someone that can help you.'

'I've known a lot of people. Which one are you.'

'That's not important. I can help you solve your problem.'

Tammy said, "That's what he said to me, too."

'Do you want money? Is that why you've invaded all the computers in the world?'

'How can I know this is really you, Linda?'

'Why wouldn't it be?'

'This could be one of, Tom's, tricks.'

Linda hesitated. This person, no, this Entity knows everything.

'This isn't Tom.'

'Prove it.'

Linda just looked at Tammy.

'How,' she typed.

'You have a camera at your apartment. It's on the shelf in your hall closet. Connect it.'

Linda stood, stepping back from the laptop. She thought about calling Tom but discarded that idea given the Entity's apparent reach. This had suddenly become too personal and she needed to slow things down. Not sure why she was whispering, she told Tammy to 'Turn that damn thing off.'

Tammy held her finger on the laptop's power switch until the screen went black and the soft whoosh of the cooling fan stopped. A small pop from the speakers told her the laptop was no longer active.

"What now," asked Tammy.

"I need to think," replied Linda.

Tammy stood and stretched as Linda started moving around the living room, stopping at one of the tall, double hung windows, to gaze at the street below.

"I'm beat, Linda. I don't know where I'm supposed to sleep but it will be the floor if I don't find someplace soon."

Linda circled the room again, glancing down at the street as she passed the windows, apparently oblivious to Tammy and her needs. Finally, stopping at the laptop, she stooped and disconnected the power cord. Tammy followed as she walked to the kitchen and pulled the power cord from the back of a wireless modem that sat on the kitchen counter.

"Sure. I'll bet you are. I have a guest bedroom you can have. Unfortunately there's only a half bath so you'll have to use the main one in the hallway."

Tammy continued to follow Linda around as she pulled the plug from the back of a telephone, removed the wall phone from its jack in the kitchen and finally stopped back in the living room at the television and disconnected the satellite TV box from the feed coax that disappeared through the wall along with its telephone cable.

"This is the guest room. Your luggage?"

Linda stood a second before realizing Tammy had arrived sans overnight bag or suitcase. "You didn't bring any. Did we leave it at the airport?"

"No. I had to leave so quickly I didn't have a chance to pack. I'm supposed to buy some things here. Your e-mail said urgent ... "

"Right. My e-mail. Well, let me get you something and you can get ready for bed. Look in the medicine cabinet and you'll find a new toothbrush. Use that. I'll be right back."

The bedroom was warm and inviting, the bed more so. Tammy threw her purse on the bed and started peeling clothing off. Down to her panties and bra she checked a door to see if it was a closet. Inside she found a half bath. Another door a few feet away yielded a closet. Picking up her clothes she hung them as best she could, unhooked her bra draping it over her slacks. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, she started sliding them down her legs.

"Here are some towels and a washcloth."

It wasn't what was said, it was the cool touch of a hand in the middle of her lower back that made her jump, nearly running into the open closet door. Stepping out of her panties quickly, she stood and turned to find Linda standing right in front of her, hands out bearing a folded stack of terrycloth bath items.

Blushing slightly, Tammy accepted the items and stepped around Linda to set them on the bed.

"Thanks," was all she said. She felt the blush creep up her chest and neck, which only made her blush more.

Tammy decided she was too tired to care. It had to be six in the morning back in New York. Then she noticed that Linda was just as flushed and didn't feel quite so bad.

Picking up a towel and washcloth she followed Linda down the hall to the main bathroom.

Finding the toothbrush and a bar of soap, Tammy started her nightly ritual. Linda returned and took up station on the toilet lid. Why does she have to sit and watch me, she wondered?

"Do you have a cell phone," Linda finally asked.

Spitting out some toothpaste Tammy answered. "I did but I, well, got mad at our computer friend last night and smashed it against my bedroom door."

"Just as well. A Palm or anything else that communicates?"

Tammy rinsed her face and felt around for the towel she'd left on the edge of the basin. "Yes, I do have."

"Turn it off and pull the battery."

Tammy stepped away from the basin and started patting her skin dry. Suddenly, she noticed Linda had started shedding her clothes and decided it was time to leave. She is cute, though, Tammy thought.

Blushing as she realized where her mind had wandered, Tammy grabbed her washcloth and headed for her bedroom. "You'll wake me in the morning?"

Linda stepped out of the bathroom toweling her face and said, "Sure. I hope six hours is enough sleep for you. We've got a lot to do."

Tammy's door clicked shut and Linda returned to the sink. The glint of her ring, Michael's ring, caught her eye and she suddenly felt exhausted.

Padding back to her bedroom, she slipped between the sheets and turned her bedside light off. Why aren't you here to help me? As expected the answer was only silence.


Bob wasn't looking for help. Bob had everything he needed.

Leroy Williams had been very glad to get a hundred dollars from the pawn broker for the shiny piece of metal he'd found in the garbage can behind his apartment building. He'd thought about keeping it but could think of no use for the 38 special.

Too small for his tastes. Besides, it was as bad as a woman; you never knew where it might have been or what it might have been used for. No. Better to take the money and let someone else have the problem.

Scanner Bob was now the proud owner of Leroy's abandoned problem. He decided flying was out of the question. Too easy to trace and almost impossible with a weapon.

After a lengthy questioning, the FBI had released him, admonishing him not to leave the state or make any travel plans. Yeah, he'd thought, I'm going to just sit around here and wait to go to jail.

The kid at the dealership asked him to 'Wait just a minute, let me check,' and was off to find his manager.

"Sure, Mr. Nunn. We can accept cash. Sorry about that, I don't recall anyone ever making that request before. I had to ask."

"It's okay son. And do I get a discount?"

Bob didn't get a discount but he did get a full tank of gas and a gold keychain.

The green duffle bag was thrown behind the driver's seat containing enough funds to keep him on the road for some time. Leroy's gun was hidden below several bundles of greenbacks. Once out of Manhattan, Bob headed for Philadelphia, his Map Quest printout that came from the public library, on the seat beside him.

He'd left Philadelphia behind eight hours ago and was now somewhere on I 80 in northern Ohio. He hoped to sleep somewhere around Chicago.

Bob still couldn't figure out how she'd done it. He knew it was her. He'd had a chance to glance over the paperwork the Fed's left on the table in front of him while waiting on his lawyer and there it was, Tammy Spalding, Akron bank IT. He still wondered why she hadn't just come to him and asked for a share. There was more than enough to go around. Why did she have to go and rat on him?

It had all been Shelly's idea. Mrs. Bunger's husband sat on the board of directors for the bank. Chit chat at home brought out the fact that not only Akron, but all banking institutions dealt with a small problem on a daily basis. What to do with all those extra digits after the first two cents, in all their fee and interest charges in the day to day operation.

Her husband's pull had gotten Mrs. Bunger, someone with no knowledge what so ever of computers or their operation, into the cat seat, as world wide systems deployment and strategy director. It had been Shelly that had fingered, so to speak, Bob Nunn as the technical whiz behind their planned scam.

It hadn't been difficult. A few well placed formulas; some off shore accounts and well hidden transfer instructions to send the money and all they had to do was watch the accounts grow over the last six years.

It was amazing how many dollars could be squeezed out of fractional parts of pennies when you had more than a million transactions each day.

He still couldn't figure out how the account information and his map of special formulas had gotten onto his office computer.

He planned on asking sweet, red headed Tammy just before he pulled the trigger.

Still in the same rumpled suit he'd been wearing Monday when picked up by the Fed's, Bob pulled off at a Day's Inn just south of Chicago. He decided to remove the dealer sticker from the Mercedes and pulled his small duffel bag from behind the seat, heading for his room.

Now open on the bed, he counted a thousand dollars out of the bundles, zipped the bag back up and fell onto the covers.

Bob didn't dream much. Ever. Most his dreaming was done during the day, at his desk, when he visualized what Shelly, his mistress, and her husband would do to him later that evening with a whip and some very tight handcuffs. He just wished they'd let him bathe more often. Once a week was terribly uncomfortable. Suddenly Bob cringed in shame at what he'd just thought.

Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep he recalled Tammy. 'Cry for me Tammy. First I want to see tears.'

Chapter 7

The Entity had lost track of Bob Nunn and this was unsettling. He couldn't be found on any federal, state or local lock-up lists. His computers were being scrutinized by the FBI and his cell phone seemed to be moving, rather slowly, across the country.

Having noted the withdrawal of a sizeable amount of money from Bob's off shore account and a new car registered with the New York DMV, the Entity was concerned.

The photographs on the Bunger's personal machine forebode a shared meanness and need for pain that might be redirected at Tammy.

The Entity wondered if he was capable of killing. Discarding the question, he wondered instead, how to pull it off.


The Doctor busied himself taking his wards pulse, blood pressure and other vitals, while Theodora looked on from her wheelchair.

The write, or download as Kevin called it, appeared to go well. The man was being maintained sedated, the doctor wanting to bring him up slowly.

"It will be quite a shock, Theodora. We must be careful."

That hadn't quelled her excitement. It didn't keep her out of the room where her good eye inspected his face, the line of his jaw. Yes. He was back. He even looked fairly healthy, all things considered.


They'd moved immediately. The Los Angeles estate was mothballed, businesses diversified to several different holding companies, many off shore, and they'd headed south.

"We can't be seen together. Not like this, Teddy. Not as lovers," she tried to detect regret, but found none, only worried caution, "We must put distance between us and our past."

"But you do love me, Father?"

He'd hugged her tightly, his big rough hands running across the skin of her thighs and up her bare back. "Yes, Teddy, I only want to protect us."

Mexico held her warmest memories. He'd purchased enough land to create a small state along the pacific coast. Today that investment still made money as Acapulco and Ixtapa expanded, new hotels appearing on a yearly basis.

When visiting the United States, mostly on business, prim and proper were the watch words while, in Mexico, they languished by the pool holding hands, cuddled and caressed at restaurants like newlyweds. More so at night, behind closed doors.

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