Authors: Julie Kenner
Tags: #Mothers, #Horror, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Suburban Life, #Occult Fiction, #General, #Demonology, #Adventure Fiction
California Demon (32 page)
“Eric?”
“He was . . . Let’s just say that I knew him well.”
“You left me the key.”
He nodded. “Eric asked me to.”
“But why now? After five years?”
“A lot of reasons,” he said. “But it boils down to finding you. It just took me that long.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “Some other time, Kate. If you don’t trust me, then you can put that ice pick to good use. But I’m not living those years again right now. Not even for you.”
I let that settle in, then decided I could live with it. Not that I had a choice. I wanted to hear about Eric. About how David knew him. About the conversations they’d had and the things David had seen. I wanted to draw every ounce of my husband from this man, then hold it tight in my heart.
So I had to trust him. I needed him.
I think he knew that.
Frustrated, I jerked the car back into drive, waited for an opening in traffic, and gunned it. We went the rest of the drive in silence, and I pulled into the parking lot at the school just as classes were changing. “Right on time,” I said.
He opened his door and got out, but leaned back inside before shutting the door. “I’m going Cool hunting tonight,” he said. “I’ll be on the boardwalk, by the lifeguard stand between Main and Ocean at seven. Will I see you there?”
“I don’t know,” I said, even though I did. So far we’d had no luck finding Cool. I doubted we’d get lucky enough to find him hanging around the surf, but I had to at least try.
I’d have to extricate myself from my family, of course. But I’d manage somehow.
“Kate?” David was watching me, his hand poised to slam the car door.
“I’ll be there,” I said. Somehow, I’d be there.
Sixteen
I leaned against the door of the pantry, wondering if my family would notice if I served Cat Chow for dinner. Probably. I debated ordering pizza, decided that would take too long, then put some water on to boil. Mac and cheese it was.
What the hell, right? Stuart would undoubtedly be late, Allie would pick at her food and then eat graham crackers in her room, and Timmy would be out of his mind with glee.
As if he could hear me thinking about him, Timmy scampered in from the living room, Boo Bear tight in his hands. “Cookie, Mommy? Want a cookie.”
“No way, sport. It’s almost dinnertime. We’re having macaroni and cheese.”
He stared at me. His lip quivered. I tensed, but it was too late. “NOOOO. Turkey and apples! Don’t like stupid macaroni!”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down. “Timothy Connor, you love macaroni and cheese. And stupid’s not a nice thing to say.”
“
You’re
stupid!” he yelled, just as Eddie wandered into the room.
You’re
stupid!” he yelled, just as Eddie wandered into the room.
“Okay, young man. Time-out.” I took him by the arm, steeling myself against his ear-piercing howls of protest. I parked him in the corner, then shot a warning finger when he started to walk away. “Stay,” I said in my most firm mommy voice. He puffed out his lips in a pout, but he stayed.
In the kitchen, I pulled a package of sliced turkey from the fridge, along with a shiny red apple. As I washed the apple, then started to skin and dice it, I cradled the telephone handset against my ear and dialed Laura’s number. “Any chance you can watch Timmy tonight?” I asked.
“Hot date?”
“Hot as Hell,” I said, thoughts of demons mixing with thoughts of David.
“When do you need me?”
“About an hour? Should be easy enough. Allie’s in her room doing homework, and Timmy just got a time-out, so he’ll be happy to have someone around to coddle him.”
As if on cue, Timmy called out for me. “Is time-out over?”
“It’s over,” I said. “Come on in here and eat your turkey and apple.”
His voice filtered back at me through the wall. “Noooooo! Mac and cheese! Mac. And. CHEESE!”
I resisted the urge to succumb to a primal scream. “No problem, sweetie. Mac and cheese it is.” To Laura, I said simply, “Help.”
She laughed. “I’ll be right over.”
True to her word, she and Mindy appeared at my back door about ten minutes later, just as I was dishing mac and cheese into Timmy’s bowl, the third course in his meat, fruit, pasta meal.
Mindy bounded up the stairs, and Laura followed me back into the kitchen. “I know where Stuart is,” she said. “But where’s Eddie?”
“Still with Ben, I think.” I filled her in on everything we’d learned from David. “I hope they’re making some progress, because I don’t have a clue what Cool is planning.”
The garage door creaked and I jumped a mile. “Stuart?” I shot a glance toward Laura. “He’s never early!”
Still, unless someone else had commandeered our garage door opener, my husband was about to walk through that door. And I’d lay odds that he’d come home early as a concession to me. To eat dinner with me. To have a nice little family moment.
Unfortunately, I had a date to go demon hunting.
“Hey, there,” he said, tossing his briefcase on the kitchen counter and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “And hey to you, too.” He planted a kiss on Timmy’s head.
“Mac and cheese!” Timmy said happily.
“So I see. Hey, Laura.”
She waved a feeble hand.
“Got enough Kraft for me, too?”
“Just about,” I said. “But . . .” I trailed off, looking at Laura helplessly.
“I’ve kind of commandeered Kate for the night,” she said, jumping in like a true best friend. “I, um, I hope you don’t mind. I need her to, you know, help me with some stuff.” She gestured vaguely toward her house.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t realize you’d be home for dinner, so I told Laura I’d, you know, help her.”
“Right,” he said. “Sure.” I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and for a moment, I let the guilt wash over me. I figured I deserved it.
l left Timmy with Stuart (who surprised me by not protesting too much) then headed over to Laura’s to help with her fabricated project. I hadn’t been able to sneak up to the attic, so my only weapon tonight was the holy water in my purse, my handy-dandy barrette, and a barbeque skewer I borrowed from Laura. That was okay. I’d make do.
Because I also didn’t have a car, I borrowed Laura’s Lexus to go meet David. All of which put me about ten minutes late arriving at the lifeguard stand. I waited, turning a slow circle as I scoped out the area for David . . . and for any potential demons.
Nothing.
I checked my watch. Fifteen past seven. And no sign of David. Damn.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to decide what to do. Not that hard of a decision, though. I was there. David wasn’t. Which meant I was going hunting on my own.
I walked down the boardwalk toward the Coronado Crest Hotel, keeping an eye out for any known demons.
I wasn’t seeing anyone, though. No one except tight groups of Christmas shoppers ducking in and out of the little shops across the street, and a few couples walking hand in hand on the beach.
My eyes darted to the hotel patio as I passed, thinking about Paul and Laura and me and Stuart. I shook my head, shooing the thoughts away. I was a walking target out here; I needed to stay focused.
The boardwalk ended at the hotel parking lot, and I stood for a second, trying to decide what to do. I could cross down the beach to the surf and continue walking, or I could backtrack, checking out the passersby again, and see if David had shown up at the lifeguard stand yet.
I decided on the second option. As much as I wanted to find Cool and company, I really didn’t have any reason to believe he was here tonight. And if I was going to wander the beach, aimlessly looking for a neon sign flashing “demon” then I wanted company.
I’d walked about twenty yards when I heard it—soft footfalls behind me, keeping in step with me, and pausing when I paused. I tensed and stopped. The footsteps stopped, too.
“You’re late,” I said, then spun around to find David grinning behind me.
“
You
were late,” he said.
You
were late,” he said.
“No excuse to sneak up on me.”
“You knew I was there,” he said. “By definition, I wasn’t sneaking.”
“I’m sure there’s a flaw in your logic,” I said as he fell in step beside me. “But give me a little time to figure out what it is.”
“I’ll give you all the time you need,” he said.
I glanced sideways at him, wondering at both his tone and his words. But his face was blank, his eyes focused on the area.
I took my cue from him, and we spent the next hour hunting demons . . . with absolutely no success. Frustrated, I stopped on the boardwalk and looked around, taking in the beach and the stores across the street. If we called it a night, I could squeeze in some Christmas shopping before the stores closed at ten. “Let’s make one more pass through the area, and if nothing jumps out at us—”
“Literally.”
“—then we’ll wrap this up,” I concluded, shooting him a “be serious” look.
We walked the length of the boardwalk again, then cut down to the beach. We walked along the water, not talking, both of us listening and looking.
Beside us, the ocean churned about as noisily as the thoughts in my head. I hadn’t patrolled with anyone since Eric had died. Even on the few occasions that I’d wanted help with the footwork, Eddie and I had covered different sections of the town. So now, to be walking alongside this man, well, the whole situation was surreal.
Bittersweet, too, especially since David had known Eric. Time and again, I tensed, turning just slightly, the words right there. But I couldn’t make them come. I wanted so badly to ask him about Eric. To share stories. To have him tell me funny little things that would make my husband come alive to me again.
I couldn’t do it, though. Now wasn’t the time. And, honestly, I’m not sure it ever would be.
We walked along the water until we were even with the lifeguard stand again. Then we plodded through the sand back up toward the boardwalk.
“No one,” he said. “I’m disappointed, but not too surprised.”
“Me, too.”
We stood at the corner, waiting for the light to change to cross PCH and get over to the shops on Main, lovely little art galleries, jewelry shops, ice cream parlors, and beach gear stores. In other words, a mishmash of goods geared mostly for the tourists, but still fun for locals.
The light changed and I started to cross, David at my side. “I want to pick up something for Allie and Laura,” I said. “But I have an idea about Cool. You up for shopping?”
“Shopping?” He looked pained. “I suppose it won’t kill me.”
“Probably not,” I agreed. We turned into the first store, Escape, a tiny boutique with a range of everything—carved wooden boxes, silver and beaded jewelry, funky wall art, and trinkets made from seashells. I picked up a nautilus shell and held it out for David to see. “I think the ocean must have something to do with it,” I said. “Whatever
it
is.”
it
is.”
“I’m listening.”
“Why else would Asmodeus pick a surfer body?”
“He may not have picked it,” David said. “Demons tend to not be picky. They take whatever body comes available.”
The man had a point, and I considered that, shifting my theory as I ran my hand over a display of ankle bracelets made from polished stone beads. “What do you think? For Allie?”
He took it from me and held it up. “Pretty. Does she like blue? She’s always seemed more the pink type to me.”
I laughed. “When she was little, she went through a phase where she wore only pink. Thankfully, we moved through that one without damage to life or limb.”
“Probably best not to rouse the beast, then.” He grabbed a bracelet off the rack and passed it to me. “How about this one?”
Muted oranges and browns, natural colors that would not only look great against Allie’s tan, but also fit nicely in her organic, earth-friendly, eco-awareness phase.
“I’m impressed,” I said. “A male of the species with a reasonable shopping suggestion.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said. “They’ll revoke my membership in the Manly Man Club.”
“I’m amazed they let you join in the first place.”
He put a hand over his heart. “Kate, you wound me.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “I think we’re onto something.”
“We?”
“All right.
I’m
onto something. What I said a minute ago about not letting you into the boy’s club in the first place.”
I’m
onto something. What I said a minute ago about not letting you into the boy’s club in the first place.”
His mouth twitched. “You think Cool’s a member?”
“What I think, Mr. Comedian, is that this surf exhibition is somehow key.”
“Go on.”
“When did you add Cool to the ticket?”
“About three weeks ago,” David said.
“He wiped out about a month ago,” I said. “So unless he needs the surfers or the beach or the ocean, why would a demon bother with a high school surf exhibition?”
“Jason brought Cool to the surf club,” David said thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?”
“The exhibition was originally going to be just that. The kids showing off a few tricks. We’d sell some food, some raffle tickets. Still for charity, but we weren’t planning on bringing in that much money.”
“And then Jason shows up one day with the idea that Cool step in as a celebrity surfer? Someone who’d really sell tickets?”
“Exactly,” David said.
“And now Jason’s dead. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if Jason didn’t realize what he’d gotten himself into—”
“And didn’t want anything to do with it,” I said, finishing his thought.
“Exactly.”
“It’s not just the ocean or the beach then. This whole thing must center around the exhibition.”
“Saturday,” he said. “Whatever Cool’s plan is, it sounds like it’s going to happen at noon on Saturday. That gives us just over thirty-six hours to save San Diablo. Maybe the world.”
“Great,” I said. “I was afraid we were going to be rushed.”
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