“I think you just have to feel it in your heart.”
“And if your heart is numb?”
“Oh, Kate,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Do you love Stuart?”
“Of course I do.”
She tapped my wedding band. “Have you taken this ring off since you said
I
do?”
I shook my head.
“Does he love you?”
I smiled, remembering last night. About that, there really wasn’t a doubt in my mind.
“Then there you go. Eric died, Kate. He’s back, but like he said, he’s not the man you married. It’s different. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it to you because you’re so close, but trust me on this. The whole situation with David and Eric? Very, very different.”
I had to laugh. Not only at her expression but because she was so very right.
“I just ... I just miss him, you know?”
“I know, sweetie. And maybe David can still be in your life,” she said, with emphasis on the name. “I don’t know, Kate. I really don’t. Are you strong enough?”
I thought of Eric, the man I’d loved for so long. The man who’d been my partner and my lover and my little girl’s father. And I thought of him now. The way his hands felt against my skin. The way his lips had pressed to mine. The way my heart had picked up tempo as he pulled me close.
I thought about seeing him at school functions, about patrolling with him along the beach under a blanket of stars. And I thought about never, ever touching him again.
“No,” I said. “I’m not that strong.” I looked Laura in the eye. “Dear God, Laura. What am I going to do?”
Hours later, the question
still glowed like neon in my mind. I desperately wished I could trust myself—that I could step up to the plate and swear to myself and God that I had enough self-control to work with David and stay faithful to my husband.
Honestly, though, I didn’t know if I could.
That kind of self-awareness is sobering, to say the least, and I wasn’t sure if I should feel shame for my lack of self-control or pride for my self-awareness.
About all I did know was that I needed to avoid David. Maybe in a few months I’d have my emotions under control. But now? In the wake of that kiss?
Now, I needed to stay far, far away from the man who was no longer my husband.
While my thoughts had been in turmoil, my hands had been busy folding laundry, and now I hefted a stack of jeans and T-shirts and headed for the stairs and Allie’s room. I managed to get about two steps from the couch when the phone rang. At one-thirty, I wasn’t expecting any calls, and since I wasn’t inclined to talk to a telemarketer that afternoon, I let the machine grab it.
“Kate?” David’s voice filtered through the tinny speakers. “Kate, if you’re there, pick up.”
I licked my lips but forced my feet to stay planted to the spot.
I heard him mutter a curse, and then, “Call my cell the second you get home. It’s about Allie,” he said. “She’s not in school today.”
I dropped the laundry and sprinted for the phone. “David! David!” But it was too late. He’d already hung up.
I called him back immediately, but naturally I got one of those irritating messages that lie and tell you the subscriber is out of the area even though you know damn well that he’s not.
I slammed the phone down, grabbed my keys, and headed into the garage. I was backing into the driveway when a car I didn’t recognize pulled up behind me and blocked my path. I laid on the horn, but the car didn’t move, so I got out, more than prepared to wail a little bit on the 1970s station wagon.
It was when I got out that I saw who was in the passenger seat—my daughter. And in the backseat, looking guilty and smug all at the same time? Eddie.
I didn’t recognize the woman driving the car, but she turned and flashed a denture-white smile at Eddie as he and Allie piled out. I rushed forward, ready to lay in to the both of them, then stopped when I saw Allie’s tear-stained face.
“What happened?” I asked, my relief at seeing them turning once again to alarm.
But Allie just shook her head and pushed past me toward the house.
“Al— ”
“Let her go,” Eddie said. “The girl’s got a few things to think about.”
“And you have a few things to explain,” I said. “Where the hell have you been, for one? And why isn’t Allie in school?”
“The library,” he said. “And we’ve been doing research.”
Little warning bells clanged in my head. “What kind of research?”
“The girl wanted to know how to use the ring to trap a demon.”
“And you figured it out? At the San Diablo library?” Actually, that wouldn’t be that remarkable. Eric had been the rare books librarian there, once upon a time. And if he’d been using his budget to fund his alimentatore resources, the collection probably had some interesting items. Even without the Forza influence, I knew that Eric often gravitated toward obscure volumes.
That Eddie had managed to find them, though, surprised me.
“Not the library,” he said. “I still got a few connections. Called in some favors, got a few of my old buddies looking in the right places. They emailed a few files. We didn’t want to use Stuart’s computer. ’Nuff said.”
“And what did you learn?”
He glanced back toward the house. “It’s Allie’s story,” he said. “I’m gonna let her tell it.”
“Then she can tell it now,” I said. “I’m done waiting.”
I went inside and found my daughter curled up in a ball on the couch, her knees tucked against her chest and her arms tight around her. My resolve immediately vanished, replaced by a desperate maternal need to comfort.
I squeezed onto the edge of the couch and put my arms around her, pulling her even closer as she turned toward me and buried her face against my thigh.
We sat like that for a while, with me stroking her hair and murmuring soft words. Allie, however, said nothing, merely shook with silent sobs. And the more the silence thickened, the more my nerves frayed.
“Allie, baby, you’re scaring me. Tell me what you found.”
Nothing.
“Allie, please. At least tell me you’re okay.”
She rolled over, blinking up at me through eyes rimmed black with smeared mascara. “I know what happened,” she said, squeezing the words out between sobs. “To Daddy, I mean.”
I stroked her face. “Can you tell me?”
She hiccupped again, but nodded. “I ... I went with Eddie. And we — ”
“I know,” I said. “He told me. It’s okay. But tell me what you learned.”
“It was all in old-fashioned language and stuff, but Eddie and I went through it all, really slow, you know? And we figured it out, Mom. And it’s so not good for Daddy.”
“Tell me.”
She wiped the back of her hand under her nose. “It said that trapping a demon using the stone mounted on the ring forged by Solomon was the greatest sacrifice.” Another big snuffle. “That to trap the demon, you had to do the whole eye-stick thing, but with the finger wearing the ring. Instead of being sucked out into the air, the demon would be sucked into the ring.”
She paused and I frowned, wondering where the sacrifice came in. I didn’t ask, though. There was clearly more to this story, and she’d tell me in her own time.
She didn’t, though. Instead, the tears started up again.
“Oh, honey,” I said, my heart about to break. “Please tell me. Surely it’s not that bad?”
“It sucked out his soul, Mom,” she said, her voice a wail. “When Daddy trapped the demon, his soul got sucked out. That’s the sacrifice. Not Heaven, not Hell, but just wandering, floating lost in the air, like all around us. Daddy, Mom. He’s not watching over us. He’s just lost. And all because he trapped that stupid demon.”
The tears started again, forced out by the sobs that rattled her body.
After a moment, the sobs slowed and she looked up at me, the pain etching lines in her face. “Is that purgatory? Is Daddy in purgatory?”
“I don’t know. I guess maybe it is.”
“Then we should pray for him? Prayers can get souls out of purgatory, right?”
“Yes, baby, you should pray. Pray very hard.” I pulled her close, my own eyes welling as I let her cry it out, her body shaking with grief and loss. I rocked her, wishing I could make it better.
I could, I knew. I could make the hurt go away.
All I had to do was tell her about David. Tell her that somehow—by luck or black magic or pure happenstance— her father’s soul had finally found a home.
Somehow, though, the words wouldn’t come. Because no matter what I might tell Eddie, I still had doubts. And until I was certain I could trust Eric again, I wasn’t going to risk another ache in my daughter’s heart.
Except for Timmy’s
constant singing to himself, dinner was a quiet, melancholy affair. Both Allie and I were lost in our thoughts of Eric. Stuart spent the evening mostly silent, presumably concentrating on his campaign plans. Eddie focused primarily on his mashed potatoes.
Honestly, by the time everyone was done, I was happy to start doing the dishes. And I very rarely use the words happy and dishes in the same sentence.
I’d just finished loading the dishwasher when the phone rang. I wiped my hands, grabbed it up, then called Allie to the phone for one of her increasingly frequent calls from teenage boys.
She took it and turned her back to me, lowering her voice—yet another teenage vice, but at least she hadn’t decided to take the call in her room with the door closed. I couldn’t hear her over the running tap water—not that I was trying—but I could tell from her expression when she turned around that the conversation was important.
“Who was it?”
“One of the football players,” she said. “He’d heard some buzz about the ring. About how Tyrone Creach is going to try to pass it off to a college student tonight. Some guy who sells stolen jewelry.”
“Where? And when?”
“The Dime Box,” she said, referring to one of the night-clubs in the warehouse district. “Right at closing. There’s an alley behind the club, and apparently a lot of this kind of stuff happens by the Dumpster.”
“Tyrone,” I repeated. “Who is he again?”
“Lillian’s boyfriend,” she said. “She has to be the one who took the ring.”
“Lillian,” I repeated. “That name sounds familiar.”
“I beat her out for the freshman spot on the cheerleading team,” Allie reminded me. “But I never thought she held that much of a grudge. Man, what a bitch!”
“Allie!”
“Sorry, but she stole Daddy’s ring.”
“Yes, well, I think she may end up with more than she bargained for.” I frowned, considering. “If neither one of them has put it on,” I said, “maybe I can get it back before the demons clue in to them.”
“And if they have?”
“Then I’ll have my job cut out for me.”
“I want to help.”
“You did. Just now.”
“Mother. I want to go with you.”
“Not on your life,” I said, already heading through the living room toward the stairs. It wasn’t even nine yet, but if I started slowly, I could transfer some of my better weapons to the Odyssey without Stuart noticing. I figured I had time; after all, a bar’s typical closing time is two a.m.
“You have to let me go,” Allie said, bouncing a little and actually resorting to whining.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t,” I said. “As the mom, I have total and complete control. Much like a benevolent dictator.”
“Mom ...”
“I’m serious, Al. This could be dangerous.”
She stood staring at me, her hands on her hips, and I knew she was trying to come up with a creative solution to this problem. But there was no way she’d be that creative, because I was determined to keep her out of harm’s way.
“I’m the only one who knows what he looks like.”
Okay, that was actually a good point. “Where’s your yearbook?”
She flashed a smug grin. “This is my first year at Coronado, remember? And he’s a senior. I don’t have a yearbook with his picture.”
“Mindy,” I said. “Surely she keeps all the back issues of the school paper. Any pics in there?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared me down. “Maybe,” she said. “But Mindy’s staying at her dad’s tonight.”
I sighed.
“Please, Mom? You’ll know him by the demons if it’s too late, but what if it’s not? I don’t like him, but we can’t let him get nailed by Andramelech’s henchmen.”
“I’m hoping he never put the ring on and henchmen aren’t an issue.”
“But then you really won’t know what he looks like. There could be tons of kids hanging out in the alley.”
Damn it all, she was right. “You stay in the van,” I said. “No matter what happens, you do not get out of that car. Do you hear me, young lady?”
She practically vibrated with excitement as she nodded and assured me that she heard me just fine.
“We’ll sneak out of the house later. In the meantime,” I said, “help me smuggle some weapons down from the attic.”
The smuggling part was actually easy since Stuart was tucked away in his study. The waiting, though, was hard. Allie was such a bundle of nervous energy I thought she’d spontaneously combust before we made it out the door. I was on edge, too, especially since I finally decided that this was important enough to break my no-David rule. But when I called him, I got no answer, which left me both worried and irritated.
Finally, the house was quiet. I snuck out of bed and then tapped on Allie’s door. She flew out immediately, her face a mix of anticipation and excitement.
“Quiet,” I whispered, which was pretty useless, really, since our garage-door opener makes enough noise to wake the house.
We stood in the kitchen as the door opened, listening for any telltale signs of life. Nothing.
“Okay,” I said. “Come on.”
The drive to the alley was uneventful, and the alley itself was drab and uninteresting. Instead of groups of kids milling around, there was nobody. Not even a homeless person. I shot Allie a questioning look, but she just shrugged. “This is where they said. Honest.”