Straight to Heaven (9 page)

Sprinkled near the swirling lines of the psychic storm were tiny boxes with arrows. As I watched, the marks writhed and twisted. “They’re moving,” I said, surprised.

“That’s because things are constantly in flux,” Mr. Clerk said. “They may settle down for a time, but then something will stir them up again, and everything will shift once more.”

“Something like a guardian angel?” I asked.

“Maybe. Or even something as innocuous as a stray cat showing up on a doorstep. There are a lot of random events in the universe.” He ran his fingers through his thin hair. “Helen loves the chaos, but it makes my life hell.”

From the draftsman’s table behind him, Mr. Clerk lifted an enormous transparency covered in red markings. “Things become even more complex when I do this.” He laid the transparency on top of Craig’s blueprint, creating a still more intricate pattern.

“I get dizzy just looking at it,” I said.

“This is a copy of his girlfriend’s blueprint, only I’m superimposing it onto your client’s. Now you can see where their lives interact, and how her actions affect his.” He pointed to more dotted lines and arrows. “Now, imagine that I have a transparency for every one of Craig’s friends and family members, and then laid them all on top of each other.”

I shook my head in amazement. “You know, if this was ever computerized, you’d be out of a job.”

He gave me a sour look.

I picked up a magnifying glass that was lying next to the desk lamp and used it to look at a flurry of angry black X’s. “What are those?”

“Prayers,” he said. “I think that’s what’s making the angel appear.” He frowned. “But don’t worry. Now that Craig and his girlfriend broke up, she’ll probably stop praying for him. At least praying in the right way.” He smiled to himself. “The more selfish the prayer, the less likely it is to be answered. And the angrier the believer, the more selfish her prayers.”

Okay, so that covered my angel problems for a while, but I still wasn’t convinced about the militia thing. “So you really don’t think the Great Lakes Militia has anything to do with my client’s temptation?”

“Not with the one tonight, no. That could change later on, of course. But it had nothing to do with your work at the bar.”

I had to admit that Mr. Clerk knew his way around those blueprints, yet I wasn’t entirely reassured. “But what about Grace? I mean, what if the Great Lakes Militia decide to hurt her to get back at me?”

“Now
you’re
being paranoid,” he said.

“For good reason,” I told him. “I
have
to know that my daughter will be okay.”

Instead of responding, he opened one of the cabinets and removed an immense book with a moldering leather cover and yellowing pages. It was so heavy that he had to lift it with both hands, and even then, he grunted when he hauled it to his desk. I knew right away what it was: my contract.

Using the magnifying glass, Mr. Clerk paged through the book for a while until he found what he was looking for. “See? It’s right here. Appendix thirty-eight, section 150, paragraph six, line five. Miss Spry is obligated to keep your daughter free from injury and out of harm’s way while you are in her employ.”

“Really?” I considered this. “But she already dragged her to Hell once. Doesn’t that count as ‘injuring’?”

“That’s a matter of interpretation,” Mr. Clerk said. “After all, Helen didn’t really harm your little girl.”

True. Grace had been asleep the entire time. Still, things didn’t sit right with me. “But what if Miss Spry
had
violated the contract? Would that mean I was free to go?”

He shook his head. “It’s useless to try to legally outmaneuver Helen. She’s an expert in making these contracts work for her. She knows everything there is about fine print, loopholes, and loose interpretation.” He set down the magnifying glass and closed the book.

It figured. “I find it hard to believe that Miss Spry would have my daughter’s best interests at heart.”

“Helen’s out to protect her investment, that’s all,” he said. “If something happens to you
and
your daughter dies, then the contract comes to an end. Helen is nothing if not tenacious. She intends to make good on Sarah Goodswain’s contract until the end of time.”

Unless I free Grace from it, I thought, but wisely kept my mouth shut.

I yawned. It was well past midnight, and I was exhausted. Before leaving, I took a final look around Mr. Clerk’s dismal office. “You really need to do something about this place.” Then I caught a glimpse of another room through a partially opened door. As Mr. Clerk put the scroll away, I peeked inside. It was even more cramped than the office and contained only a metal cot with a thin mattress, a battered dresser, and a cracked mirror on the wall.

“Do you actually live here?” I asked, horrified. I’d always pictured Mr. Clerk residing in a suave, metropolitan bachelor pad with black granite countertops and an immense walk-in closet.

“Ms. Straight, my personal life is none of your business,” he said, firmly shutting the door to the little bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but it’s so depressing.”

From the sad look on his face, it was clear he found it that way as well.

When I got home, I swore I heard Ariel calling my name. I checked the house, going from room to room, but the place was empty. Then I looked at my cell phone and, to my surprise, there were six text messages from Ariel. Most of them said,
Aunt Lil – u there?
or
Aunt Lil – where r u?
But the last one read:
y dont u answer the phone? I need u!!!!

I immediately called Ariel back, not caring what time it was. If I’d known where Tanya lived, I would have been collecting my car keys and purse. Or calling the police for real this time.

The phone rang four times before Ariel’s voicemail picked it up. I jabbed the ‘end’ button and re-dialed. “Pick up,” I said into the phone. “C’mon, Ari, pick it up.”

Finally, a very sleepy voice said, “Hello?”

I froze. It was a man’s voice. Presumably my sister-in-law’s new boyfriend. Gathering my wits, I said, “I want to talk to Ariel.”

The voice on the other end of the line sharpened. “Who is this? Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m her aunt, and yes, I know what time it is. She’s been calling me all evening, and I want to talk to her.”

“Oh, Lilith. Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Look, Ariel’s sleeping. Can she call you in the morning?” I heard someone speaking in the background and then some muffled noises. A moment later, Tanya was on the phone.

“Lil, sorry that the kid was bugging you tonight. She thought she left some ring or something at your house, but it turns out she didn’t. We found it under her bed. I’ll have her call you in the morning if you want.”

Now, that may not sound like a lot of information to you, but to me, it said three important things. First and foremost, Ariel had a real bed, and she was sleeping in it. Second, Tanya was also in bed and not out partying. And, third, Tanya not only cared that Ari had lost Tommy’s metal spacer, she’d actually helped her look for it. For the first time since Ari had left with her mother, I felt that I could breathe a little easier.

“I’m glad she’s okay. She seemed desperate.”

Tanya coughed into the receiver. “Yeah, it was crisis central here for a while, but everything’s okay now.” Underneath her calm sentence was the subtext: I know how to take care of my own child despite what you might think.

“Okay,” I said. “Bye.”

I wanted to believe that everything really was okay over at Tanya’s apartment, and that, despite all her history, Ted’s sister had finally turned herself around. But I couldn’t make myself believe it. It was still too soon. All I could do was hope that, when things went south for real, Ariel would call me in time.

Chapter Seven

I expected to find Mr. Clerk by my bedside the next morning, ready to give me a new assignment. When I opened my eyes, however, the room was empty. Even Ariel hadn’t texted me back.

Dazed and headachy from all the wine I’d drunk the night before, I got up and showered, all the while hoping to either hear the phone ring or sense a shift in the air that told me I was getting an otherworldly visitor.

But there was nothing.

After I dressed, I saw that I’d finally received a message from Tommy. He texted that he had hitchhiked over forty kilometers to Jalgaon and was waiting to get on the train to Mumbai.
Could b here a while
, he said.
Then I’ll find a flight 2 London or Tokyo or best way 2 get 2 Detroit
.

What a grueling trip! For a moment, I entertained the fantasy of using the otherworld tunnels to rescue him. I could have him home in minutes. But at the same time, I worried that if Miss Spry caught us, she might decide to keep Tommy in Hell for good. Torturing the innocent was great fun for her. No, on second thought, Tommy would be safer if he used conventional transportation.

I texted him back.
Safe travels
.

He sent back:
Tell J I’m coming for her
.

I hoped she’d be as happy to hear that news as I was.

It wasn’t until the afternoon that I felt the presence of another demon. But it wasn’t Mr. Clerk. It was William.

He walked through the French doors and out onto the patio where I was trying to forget my worries by sunning myself poolside. He smiled impishly as his eyes traveled up and down my bikini-clad body. He was looking good, too, like a model who’d accidentally stumbled away from a shoot. The rumpled T-shirt, shorts, and leather flip flops gave him a devil-may-care appearance, but I wasn’t fooled. Every bit of his ensemble had been carefully chosen. His flip flops and sunglasses probably cost as much as a complete set of braces for Grace.

He settled into the chaise next to me. “Lil, I’m prepared to make you a deal.”

It seemed everyone in Hell was eager to bargain with me this weekend. “What kind of deal?”

“An even trade,” he said. “I’ll help you with your guardian angel problem if you spend the night with me.” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

“Are you kidding me? Why not simply help me?”

“Nothing in Hell is ever offered for free. You know that.”

“Well, I’m not prostituting myself for information.” Disgusted, I sank back into my chaise.

“Prostitute yourself?” he asked, surprised. “You make it sound so tawdry.”

“That’s because it
is
tawdry.”

“I have something that you want, and you have something that
I
want,” he said. “It’s a simple business transaction, that’s all.”

That thoroughly pissed me off. “Get this through your head, William. I am
not
going to sleep with you.”

His expression darkened. “You know, Lil. I came here to do you a favor. Besides, there isn’t a woman in the world who wouldn’t sell her soul for a night with me.”

“Then, by all means, knock yourself out,” I said. “Go find one of those eager women and have fun.”

He slammed his hands against the arms of his chair. “You damnable, irritating she-demon! Do you want to be romanced? Is that it?” He got down on one knee next to my chaise. “Shall I woo you with poetry? Or write you a song?”

“Does that work with most women?”

“Of course it works,” he said. “What about gifts? Do you want flowers? Jewelry? A new car?”

“I want love,” I said.

“Love,” he sputtered. “What good is love?”

“Love means companionship,” I said. “It means sharing your life with someone. Growing old with someone.”

“
I
will never grow old,” he said. “Since, unlike you, I don’t have a successor, I’ll live on forever, serving Helen until the end of time and beyond.”

“That sounds like the worst possible fate,” I said.

The muscles in his jaw clenched. “What choice do I have? If I stop working for her, the weight of all my mortal sins would send me to Hell anyway. I’d rather be Helen’s pet than her whipping boy.”

Working for Helen until the end of time or suffering her eternal punishment? It was a choice I couldn’t imagine making.

William got to his feet and said, “Last chance. Are you certain you don’t want me to help you get past those angels?”

“No, I’m not worried. I’ll get to my client sooner or later.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’m very motivated,” I said. “Miss Spry promised to give me a bonus if I finished this job.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. “A bonus? What kind of bonus?”

“If I successfully tempt my client, Miss Spry will change my contract so that the curse skips a generation, and my daughter will not have to become a succubus.”

His jaw dropped. “Change your contract? Did Helen tell you that herself?”

“Yes, yesterday.”

“After you begged her?”

“No, not at all. She came up with the idea herself.”

Color rose to his cheeks. “She has no right rewarding you for only doing your job.”

I shrugged. “Take it up with her. She’s the one who offered.”

“I will,” he said. “Believe me.” Then he retreated through the French doors and disappeared.

Looking up, I saw my next-door neighbor, Casey, watching me from her kitchen window. She must have seen William, but at least she hadn’t overheard our conversation or, hell forbid, watched him disappear into thin air. I couldn’t imagine having to come up with an explanation about that. I waved at her, and she waved back, but the look on her face was anything but friendly.

Mr. Clerk showed up not long after William had left. Dark circles underscored his eyes, and once again, his clothes were disheveled. The worst part, however, was the manic look in his eyes. “I’ve got it, Lilith. I’ve finally got it!” He waved a slip of paper over his head like a deranged prophet with a piece of a holy text.

“When’s the last time you slept? You look terrible.”

“I feel wonderful.” He gave an unhinged smile, and I wondered if Miss Spry was pushing him a little
too
hard. “We finally have him! By this evening, Mr. Fuller will be fully in our camp.”

I hoped he was right. For Mr. Clerk’s sake as much as mine.

I was about to set off for the appointment when my demon reminded me that I had to reshape my body into the tiny version of me that J.T. would recognize from the night before. That was fairly easy. Finding decent clothing was not. I didn’t want to dress in what I’d been wearing the night before, but there was nothing in my closet to fit the new me. I dug around in a box that contained a few clothes that my stepsister had left behind when she moved out. Although Jas was considerably taller, she wore her clothes so tight that they came close to fitting.