The Devil Stood Up (20 page)

“Good morning, Kelly, I hope–”

He saw everything in rapid-fire, like shutter clicks of a good camera. Each piece of information burst on his brain like a flash:

Kelly was at her desk.

Carrie was behind her.

Carrie had a knife to Kelly’s throat.

Carrie’s other hand was hidden behind Kelly’s back.

Carrie was smiling.

“Hello, Lover,” she said. Her voice was soft and breathy; Marilyn Monroe again. She wore the same clothes she’d had on last night, but now they were disheveled. Her knees were dirty and some of the lace had split at the seam exposing her leg and allowing the denim to gap and gather bunchily. The boots were dirty and the heels had a ragged look where the pleather was peeling up. Her hair was in a shambles.

“Are you surprised to see me?” She tilted her head and batted her lashes at him.

He nodded, unable to speak. Unable to take his eyes from the knife at Kelly’s throat. He was thinking: is she going to turn that knife on me? oh no, no no no…I can’t allow that!

“I thought you’d be surprised,” she said. “Your secretary certainly was. Weren’t you, hon?” She pressed the knife harder against Kelly’s throat. Kelly made no reply but her fingers curled around the arms of her chair and she swallowed visibly. Her eyes never left Thomas.

“Yes, your whore secretary was very surprised to see me. Didn’t you tell her about us, Thomas? Didn’t you tell her that her…services…weren’t going to be needed any longer?”

He shook his head, whether he was in denial of what she said or just in denial of the entire situation was unclear.

“Speak, Thomas, speak!” she said. “I command it!” Then she laughed. “You really thought you had me last night, didn’t you? Really thought you’d put me in my place, right? Well guess what, lover? My place is right next to you. And just as soon as I take out the trash, then everything begins for us. It took you a long time to come for me, but you did it in the end, didn’t you? You came for me and here I am. And I will never leave you. But you can’t fuck around on me, Thomas. I can’t have that. A dead Thomas is better than a cheating Thomas.” Now she showed him the hand that had been behind Kelly’s back. She was holding the gun that the clerk from the motel had secured for her.

Thomas had been shaking his head through her entire speech. When he saw the gun, he knew he had no choice in his actions. He plunged.

“I never messed around with her, Carrie. She wanted to, yes, she is always coming on to me…but I never once…I mean, look at her…she’s got nothing on you…”

Kelly’s eyes had gone wide as her mouth dropped open. She stared at Thomas in disbelief.

“No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not true, none of it is true–”

“Shut up, Kelly, for God’s sake, just give it up! You think Carrie is a dumb hick, but she’s not and she’s got you figured out. Everything you told me yesterday…” his eyes cut from Kelly to Carrie to see how this was going over. “…about how you thought she looked like a real bitch and you put something in her water, trying to make her look like a fool…”

Carrie’s eyes were shining. This was it at last, the kind of love she deserved. She knew there had been something wrong with that water. No one in their right mind would drink that shit on purpose.

“I realize it now, Carrie, I see it all. We’re so right for each other. Could you possibly love me as much as I love you? Oh Carrie, I so want for us to be together.”

“I do too, Thomas! It’s everything I want!”

“God, that makes me so happy.” He took a step toward her, smiling, but then he let the smile fall from his face. He considered his next manipulation. He had to handle it just right to give himself time to call the cops. Thomas didn’t want Carrie to kill Kelly–not in his offices–but more than that, he didn’t want Carrie to kill him. “But it’s hopeless,” he said. He let his shoulders slump and lowered his head dramatically.

Carrie hesitated at Kelly’s side, the knife dropping away. Thomas saw her indecision. She was thinking of running to him. Leaving Kelly the opportunity to break free. He couldn’t have that!

He stood straight and threw out his arm, his finger pointing shakily at Kelly. He forced outrage into his voice and manufactured a break at the end.

“We can’t be together because of her!”

“What do you mean, Thomas?” Carrie cried and remembered to hold the knife tight to Kelly’s throat. Kelly shook her head, no, no, no, but Carrie stilled it with a press of the knife.

“Because she knows things, she can blackmail me. I didn’t want to tell you any of this, I feel like such a…such a…fool.” He faked a tone of utter despair. Then he looked into Carrie’s eyes. “Only you can help me, Carrie. I know you can make this right. I don’t know what you want to do. I realize you must be very angry with Kelly, and I wouldn’t blame you! After everything…”

Carrie was still staring at him and her eyes shone like that of a feral animal considering injured prey.

“Carrie, darling, no one would blame you for…for making this right. This woman is trying to stop me…stop us! From getting everything we deserve. It’s not right. Anyone could see that.”

Carrie was nodding, pushing the blade edge further into Kelly’s throat. A thin line of blood appeared under the knife.

Carrie stowed the gun in the pocket of her jeans and motioned Kelly up. Kelly was weak in the knees and she fell back a bit as she tried to stand. Carrie shoved her roughly forward, tilting the chair over onto the floor. She tugged Kelly’s purse over her own shoulder.

“Let’s go,” she said. Then she addressed Thomas. “I know where to take her. They won’t notice anything at that shithole. I know how to fix this. Just wait for me, darling.”

She motioned Kelly toward the door. When they were even with Thomas, Carrie tilted her head to him, closed her eyes and parted her lips.

Thomas could see the hot red slug of her tongue moving slickly in the dark cave of her mouth. Her breath was atrocious, deadly. He leaned forward, holding his breath. His lips met hers. He was kissing the monster.

Her mouth parted more and her tongue pushed into his mouth and he felt the glob of spit it brought with it. He nearly gagged but knew if he did, he’d be dead. Better Kelly than me, better Kelly than me, he repeated in his head. It calmed his gag reflex.

Carrie pulled away, her eyelids half lowered. She ran the back of her hand across her mouth and a runner of saliva trailed like a silvery string from her chin to her hand until it broke off and disappeared.

“I’ll be back,” she said, her voice husky. “Wait for me, lover.”

Thomas nodded and used all his strength to pull a smile onto his face. He never looked at Kelly.

As the door closed behind them, he let out a pent up breath and leaned dizzily over his knees. He heard Kelly’s car start. He listened as it backed down the gravel drive. Feeling his stomach twist, he ran to the small guest bath behind the stairs and vomited.

He knew he should call the police right away. He’d be able to give them the description of Kelly’s car and they’d jump if he said jump. The police would have that crazy bitch rounded up in no time.

But what about Kelly? She’d tell everyone about his betrayal of her. He knew she couldn’t be bought, it was one of the reasons he’d hired her himself. Her innate honesty, her goodness, showed in everything she did.

The press would crucify him.

He could always say he fainted. He’d give it a half hour or so, maybe an hour, enough time for that crazy bitch to do…whatever she was going to do. If Kelly wasn’t dead when the police found them, then he’d take that as a sign that she was meant to live and he was meant to be found out. Maybe he’d wait ninety minutes. How long does a faint usually last?

He straightened with difficulty and leaned over the sink, groaning.

He splashed cold water on his face and stood, reaching blindly for the little hand towel. He dried his face and looked into the mirror.

A man was standing right behind him.

* * *

The Devil had been a block away when he’d seen Kelly’s car backing out of a driveway beside a large Victorian. His heart had filled with a joy he’d not known since he’d been Lucifer, happy in Heaven. He sprinted.

He was twenty feet from the car as she turned out into the street away from him. She saw him, he knew she did, but her eyes were wide and terror-stricken. As she put the car back into drive, he saw the knife at her throat. Her eye rolled back to him, demonstrating her desperate unhappiness.

Then she nodded, deliberately indicating the building she’d just left. Her tires shrieked as she sped off. From behind, the Devil saw the other person in the car, but he couldn’t tell who it was.

His body tensed to run after her. He knew he couldn’t catch a speeding car, but maybe he could. If he really pushed this body. He felt a pinprick, like a needle, in the back of his leg. He turned in fury but Sitri had already sprung away. Now he trotted, tail switching, to the side door of the Victorian.

After one more glance down the now empty street, the Devil followed Sitri up the drive.

He pushed open the door and glanced around. There were some small signs of a struggle: the pencil and pen cup had scattered its contents across the desk; a vase had been upended, and a chair at the small reception desk had been overturned.

Sitri pushed past him and further into the room. He hesitated for one brief second and then trotted down the main hallway where he turned and stared intently at a half closed door.

The Devil came forward and listened to the sounds of splashing water. Who would be washing their face during an assault and kidnapping? He tented his fingers on the door and pushed it silently inward. He saw a figure huddled over the sink.

The figure straightened, wiping his face on a small towel and then dropped it carelessly to the floor. He met the Devil’s eyes in the mirror.

“Hello, Thomas,” the Devil said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

BOOK FIVE

The Devil’s Judgment

Thomas turned quickly, his back connecting with the sink in the tight space. Three things occurred to him simultaneously: did he know this guy, could he take him in a fight, and what the fuck was a cat doing in his office. He hated cats. All animals, really.

“Who the fuck are you?” He meant it to come out as a challenge, a warning, but he found he was barely able to squeak it out. His knees were shaking. His stomach was shaking. He felt his hands begin to shake and he reached behind him to grip the smooth, cool edge of the porcelain sink. That grounded him a bit and stopped the vertigo that had been trying to creep over him.

The Devil shook his head. He was at a crossroads. The man he’d come to judge was right here in front of him, but Kelly was in danger, and obviously, Evigan knew something about it. He could take him to Hell and be done, be back where he belonged. Possibly that course would even lessen the amount of punishment that God, Himself might decide the Devil deserved for his transgression. It would be the easier and certainly more satisfying choice–he ached with the need to judge this man.

But then, what of Kelly? He’d felt the mortal danger she was in. But if she were to be killed, she would go to Heaven and dwell forever in Paradise. She was an Innocent.

That thought did not comfort him.

He decided.

“Who has Kelly?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Thomas said again, and this time, his voice did rise. Rage swept into the Devil like an inferno, lighting his eyes and trying to push reason out a back door.

The Devil reached out and Thomas shrank back against the sink. He had to be hallucinating or maybe he really had passed out after throwing up, because it looked like this guy’s eyes were on fire. And that simply was not possible.

The Devil’s hands grasped Thomas’ arms and he pulled him close; they were almost nose to nose. Thomas could feel the heat of those terrible, burning eyes on his face. It was not a good heat, one that warmed your joints and soothed and comforted–no–this heat was somehow painful in a way that induced instant nausea. He felt his lower belly rumble and then clamp as though diarrhea was imminent. His skin seemed to dry and shrink, making it hard even to blink his desert-parched eyes, and the smell was worse. It did not seem to come from the man’s mouth; his mouth was closed. Somehow, the stench was coming from his eyes; it was part and parcel with the heat.

Thomas thought of the enormous, fly-blown deer that had greeted him and three friends when they’d gone to a lake cabin one year to fish. The deer carcass had been about twenty feet from the cabin, right near the driveway. They’d smelled it even as they’d left the road and it had been with them the entire week–the carcass was much too deteriorated to even contemplate moving. They’d have needed snow shovels.

When he’d gotten home, Thomas had thrown away every piece of clothing he’d brought with him on that trip. It seemed the smell clung in a way that mere washing would never be able to clean away.

“Thomas,” the man said, “I am the Devil.”

When the Devil had revealed himself to Kelly, she hadn’t believed; nothing in her life would ever have led her to believe that she’d have occasion to consort with the Devil. Thomas, however…he believed immediately. Almost as though he’d been expecting it.

“What…what do you want? My soul? You can have it! I don’t care…take it!”
From another human, this invitation might have spun the Devil into a dizzied frenzy–to be offered a soul? It was like waving a juicy steak before a raging carnivore.

Thomas, however, didn’t believe he had a soul. He believed in the Devil, if only because he’d long thought to himself that if (big if) there was a Hell that he’d surely be going. But Thomas didn’t believe in souls, or rather, he thought that if there was a soul in him, he could most likely do without it.

“Listen carefully, Thomas,” the Devil said. “Who took Kelly? Where did they take her?”

Thomas shook his head. Why was the Devil concerned with Kelly? Could it be that she was his target, not him? Or possibly Carrie? Yes! That had to be it! She’d killed her own kid for Christ’s sake! Of course the Devil was here for her! Burgeoning relief was accreting up through his body. He just had to give Carrie up? No problem! Then his mind whispered to him: she is guilty, yes, but so too, aren’t you?