Faces of Evil [4] Rage (15 page)

Harper assured her he would be there ASAP.

Phone in one hand, Glock in the other, Jess sat down at her vintage table to wait.

That was when she started to shake.

2:30 a.m.

D
evon could hear the angel moving around inside his house.

The angel was back to take him away.

Leslie said angels didn’t hurt live people but Devon was afraid to find out. And he knew it was the angel because no one else ever came to their house. The police ladies did, but that was about the dead mommy.

Maybe the angel was here because Devon wasn’t supposed to see the stuff he saw.

When he told Leslie about the angel that came to the Grayson house she got all upset. Good thing he didn’t tell her about the angel chasing him. That woulda been bad.

He hugged himself more tightly in his sleeping bag. He hadn’t hardly slept in two days. Yesterday night because of the crying baby then all day and night today because he kept worrying the angel would come back for him. That funny feeling that warned trouble was close had bugged him all day. But all day had passed and the angel didn’t come. He got mad when his sister made him go to old Mrs. Nicholson’s before she went to work. Mrs. Nicholson didn’t even like kids. The last time Leslie made him go there she asked a bunch of questions and called him a dummy for not answering. When he told Leslie she said he didn’t have to go back there anymore. Leslie must’ve been really worried to ask the old lady to keep him again.

Soon as Mrs. Nicholson was asleep, Devon just came on home. The angel hadn’t come back all day and all night.

Until now
.

Leslie was right. He shouldn’t’ve gone to see about the baby or the dead mommy. Now he was in trouble with the angel. The cops didn’t know about him going over there but the angel did.

The lie he told Leslie made him feel bad in his stomach. He’d told her that he scratched his arm under the house. He was afraid to tell her about the angel trying to catch him. Maybe people weren’t supposed to get so close to an angel without going to heaven. He didn’t know for sure. But his sister had too much to worry about already.

What if the angel tried to take Leslie? He didn’t know if there were rules about that or not. But that wouldn’t be fair. Leslie didn’t do anything wrong. He was the one who caused trouble. Specially for his sister.

A loud crash above him made him jump. His heart tried to pop out of his chest. He was glad he was down here and not up there. As soon as he’d heard someone at the front door he’d sneaked out his window and down the trellis. He’d crept around to the back of the house and through the little door to his hiding place. No one ever looked under the house.

Since he made this his special place he had found all kinds of neat stuff under the house. He wasn’t scared of nothing under here. It was dark but he had flashlights. His sister was always complaining that the flashlights went missing. There were about ten under here with him but only one with good batteries. Pretty soon he would need another one.

He had a sleeping bag, bottles of water, and little cans of potted meat and a pack of crackers. His sister hated potted meat but he loved it. She made funny faces every time he opened it in front of her. Made good camping stuff. He could stay down here for days and days and just eat potted meat like he was camping. Leslie said their mom used to take them camping, that’s why they had sleeping bags and stuff, but he couldn’t remember.

He listened at the place where the silver stuff was loose from the vent in the floor. Made hearing things in the house easy. The angel was going upstairs. Probably to his room to look for him. He shivered at the sound of footsteps. He wondered how come the angel didn’t fly instead of walking up the stairs. Maybe there were rules about angels flying inside houses. Something could get broken. The scratches on his arm burned a little. Maybe the angel being close could make the scratches burn. He might have seen that in a movie. What if his skin fell off?

He shuddered. Hoped the angel couldn’t see him down here in the dark all zipped up in his sleeping bag. It was real hot outside but it stayed kind of cool under here. Smelled like dirt but he didn’t care. Not much anyway.

His breath stopped in his throat, making that loud sound in his mouth he didn’t mean to make. What if he forgot to close his bedroom window? He couldn’t remember if he did or not. If he left his window open the angel would know he had sneaked out of his room. He always closed his window, even when it was hot, if he climbed down the trellis. That way no one would notice the trellis sticking up to his window with smushed leaves and broken limbs where his hands and feet went as he climbed on it.

All day police people had been next door. They had walked all around the dead mommy’s house and the neighbor houses. He wished the police people were back, specially those two lady cops who came to his house. The angel had stayed away while the police were next door.

He wondered if that meant this was a bad angel. He just didn’t know enough about angels.

If the angel was looking for his bloody T-shirt it was gone. The dead mommy’s blood was on it and that was bad. Maybe that was why the angel had come back. He should’ve stayed in the house last night like his sister said. Then he wouldn’t be hiding under here with that dead people angel in his house looking for him.

He wished he could see what the angel was doing. Seemed like a long time before he heard moving around again. Devon held real still and listened hard. He heard the front door open and then close.

Was the angel leaving? Seemed funny for an angel to go out the front door.

He waited a really long time and then he unzipped his sleeping bag. The flashlight blinked. The battery was running out. He turned it off and left it next to his potted meat and stuff. Crawling on his hands and knees he went back to the little door and moved it just enough to peek outside. It was too dark to see anything. No lightning and not much moon. Sometimes the moon and stars liked to hide. Sort of like him, he guessed.

He was getting a little sleepy now. It was so quiet outside. The angel must have decided to fly away. That was good. Maybe he could go to bed.

A few more minutes and he would climb back up to his room. The front door was supposed to be locked but the angel had come on in anyway. Maybe locks didn’t stop angels. He wished he knew all the angel rules.

He probably should read the Bible. The preacher where he used to go to church read about angels from the Bible. Devon could read better than anyone else his age. His teacher said he was way ahead of his age group in reading. He didn’t always know what the words meant but he could take them apart in his head and understand how to say them.

His eyelids didn’t want to stay open. He was getting real sleepy. Maybe he’d just sleep under here tonight. But then his sister would yell at him for crawling around under the house like a bug. That’s what she said when he told her about this special hiding place.

“Under the house is for spiders and bugs,”
she’d told him.
“Maybe even snakes. You shouldn’t go under there.”

He’d never seen any snakes. Just bugs and spiders. They didn’t like the flashlight.

He was really tired. The angel had to be gone by now. Everyone else in the whole neighborhood was asleep except him.

Devon sneaked out the little door. He put it back over the hole like it belonged. He would need a bath. He smelled like the dirt. Maybe in the morning. He was too tired for a bath. He walked through the dark to the trellis. Seemed like a long way up to his window. He was tired.

He reached up to grab the trellis but a sound made him stop. He looked hard to try to see through the darkness. The moon and stars were hiding behind the clouds tonight.

Even though it was really dark he would swear that something moved close to the front corner of the house. Like something came from the front yard and then just stopped to stare at him.

Could angels see in the dark?

His chest got real tight and the hair on his arms stood up.

He knew what that meant…
Run!

Devon ran. He reached the hole. Pushed the little door aside. He dove under the house.

Hurry!
Crawl faster!

His heart was running in his chest. He had to hurry! All he had to do was get to his special place behind that big shiny silver thing. Nothing could get him there!

Hands grabbed his leg. Jerked him back.

He kicked at the hands. They wouldn’t let go!

He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.

The hands pulled him closer. Pressed over his mouth.

“Got you, you little shit!” a mean voice growled.

Devon went inside himself.

Caldwell Avenue, 4:00 a.m.

S
ergeant Jack Riley waited outside his south side townhouse in the darkness like a goddamned criminal. Where the hell was she?

If she didn’t get here in the next thirty seconds he was going after her. To hell with the consequences. He’d called her cell. She hadn’t answered. Finally he’d left her a voice mail and told her he was waiting.

He didn’t have to say more. That was enough to have her scared shitless, he’d bet his next paycheck. He didn’t like being the last to know anything and he damned sure didn’t like her sneaking around behind his back. She had gone too far this time. He’d let her ridiculous little mistakes go in the past. Overlooked all her annoying faults. And she had plenty.

Not this time.

This was serious shit and he wasn’t about to allow her to screw up all that he had worked for. No way. If anyone went down for this it would be her. This was her fuckup.

He spotted headlights up the street. Fury roiled in his gut. The stupid bitch rolled to a stop at the curb and shut off the lights and the engine. He didn’t wait for her to get out. Too many neighbors with nose trouble to stand around out here and have a discussion. And they damned sure couldn’t go in the house. Not with Larry and his kid here.

He walked up to the passenger side of the Corolla he was stuck paying three-sixty a month on and rapped on the glass. The automatic door lock clicked to the unlock position. She didn’t say a word as he settled into the seat. Wasn’t any need for her to say a damned thing. He knew what she’d done.

He just didn’t know the precise details. The devil was always in the details.

He let another ten or so seconds elapse just to make her sweat, then he demanded an answer. “You ready to tell me what the fuck is going on?” He clamped his mouth shut to keep from screaming at her. Same went for his hands. Squeezed his fingers into fists to prevent slapping the living daylights out of her. He knew better than to do that. Cops couldn’t be knocking their wives around—even if they deserved it. He worked double shifts three, four days a week and she couldn’t even keep her shit together for one fucking night.

“I had to check on something.”

Her voice trembled like a frightened child’s. The sound made his dick hard. Her fear was like a drug. It gave him a hell of a rush. Hell yeah. That’s what he should do. Take her in the woods somewhere and break her down like a shotgun and give it to her like she’d never had it before. Teach her who the hell was boss once and for all.

“Like what?” He stared across the darkness at his idiot wife. Seeing her eyes wasn’t necessary. He could smell her fear.

“I was just being paranoid. I couldn’t remember if I put the glasses in the right place after I cleaned up.”

He’d been a cop too long to buy that load of bull. Every nuance of her tone screamed
liar, liar, liar
.

“Are you lying to me?” He allowed the question to echo in the darkness for a bit. “You said you took care of everything. That was supposed to be the end of it.” He shook his head. Damn, he wanted to teach this dumb bitch a lesson. “You had one thing to do.” His mouth tightened in fury. “Just one. How could you screw up that one thing?”

She said nothing but her breathing told him she was growing more terrified by the second. She drew in short little shaky puffs of air. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help. I made a mistake.”