The Devil You Know (25 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

The
day after Jasper’s funeral, Marie went back to St. Lucy’s for the first time
since Jasper’s death. His service had been simple—a few words spoken by a
minister followed by internment in one of the large mausoleums at the Hollywood
Cemetery. The only other mourners besides Tom and Marie were people who had
been regular customers at the bookstore. During the service, Marie had tried to
focus on what was happening and on being strong for Tom, but she was still
bruised—both physically and emotionally—from her ordeal with Laura
Tremaine and her captive lover. She had not told Tom anything about the
incident, knowing it would only give him one more thing to worry about. She
also knew that if he got a sense of how dangerous the game of incubus baiting
was, he would do everything he could to keep her from going after Piedmont and
his monsters.

Though
still preoccupied with the demons and what to do about them, she arrived at
work the next day ready to resume her duties, walking into the office and
setting her purse on her desk. On the drive this morning, she had considered
going against Jasper’s wishes and taking Father Joe into her confidence. With
Jasper gone, it might be necessary for her to have an expert on things
spiritual in her corner. She felt certain that Father Joe would keep her secret
if she explained to him the necessity of keeping Julian Piedmont from
discovering her plans. However, she had not yet made up her mind when she
walked into the office.

“Good
morning, Father Joe,” she called in the direction of his inner office, as she
always did.

“Marie?”
came the reply. He sounded surprised to find her back at work, and when he
poked his head out of his office, she was equally surprised at his appearance.
Always neat but in a casual way, this morning the priest looked tired and
disheveled. His black shirt and pants were rumpled, as though he had slept in
them or else had worn them several days in a row. He usually kept what was left
of his hair neatly combed, but today tufts of it stood out from his scalp,
making him look like he had just woken up. Looking closer, Marie saw that he
had missed a day or two of shaving, and he had circles under his eyes.

“Father
Joe!” Marie said, alarmed. “Is everything all right?”

Her
question seemed to catch him off guard, and he quickly ran his hands through
his hair, saying, “I’ve been a bit ill, I’m afraid.”

“Oh!
You should have called me. I would have been glad to have come back sooner.”

He
waved a hand and smiled. “No, no. Not necessary. Just a little bug. You had
your own needs to consider. I’m fine, really.” He nodded at her, and she saw
that as he spoke he began to seem more and more like his old self.

“Well,
I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” she said.

She
walked around her desk and prepared to sit down, but Father Joe held up a hand
to stop her. “Marie, I wasn’t sure when you were coming back.” Then he looked
at the floor and said, “Perhaps you should take a few more days. You’ve had
quite a shock.”

Startled,
Marie said, “But I’m fine, really.”

“I’ll
pay your wages as usual. You needn’t worry about that. Just take care of
yourself.”

Confused,
Marie wondered if there wasn’t more to the priest’s illness than he was letting
on. “Honestly, Father, I’m ready to come back to work.”

“But
I’m not ready to have you back.” He said it so sharply that Marie gave a little
gasp, as though he had physically struck her. She had never seen him lose his
patience before, and certainly not with her, but his face revealed a growing
anger now, if only for a moment or two. Then he seemed to remember himself and
forced a smile that was clearly meant to be reassuring. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’ve had a difficult few days myself. What I meant to say was that I need a
bit of time alone. I’m going to take some time off. The diocese is sending
someone out to cover Mass on Sunday and Confessions on Saturday. We’ll be back
to business as usual come Monday next. All right?”

“All
right.” She tried to sound sincere when she said it, but a sense of doubt
filled her, and she felt certain that Father Joe knew it. Still, her
acquiescence seemed to please him, and a more sincere smile spread across his
face now.

“Good,
child,” he said. “Good.” He turned back into his office and then said, “Now,
I’ll just go back to my…” The sentence faded into nothingness, as though he had
forgotten what he meant to get back to. “You take care, and I’ll see you next
week then.” Without another word, he turned and closed the door to his office,
leaving Marie alone.

Dumbfounded,
she gathered her purse and left the office. Immediately, she thought the worst,
telling herself that the little illness he had mentioned was actually something
life threatening. It would be like him, she knew, to keep secret from her and
his superiors something as serious as cancer or heart trouble. He would not
want anyone fussing over him.

Passing
through the chapel, she stopped to kneel in one of the pews and say a quick
prayer for Father Joe’s health. High on the wall in front of her, the chapel’s
gold crucifix portrayed Christ in serene suffering, and as she finished her
prayer with the sign of the cross, Marie asked herself, not for the first time,
if she was doing the right thing. She supposed she should pray on the issue,
asking for divine guidance now that both Jasper and Father Joe were unavailable
to offer help of any kind. But the thought of asking God or His Son for help
hunting and destroying sexually voracious demons struck her as so absurd that
she could not bring herself to offer up a prayer of any kind. She would have to
do without that sort of guidance, she told herself, and got up to leave the
chapel.

* * * * * * * *

As
soon as she was home, she phoned Tom to give him the news. When he didn’t
answer, she tried again. By the time she dialed his number a third time, she
was beginning to worry that he might have slipped into one of his episodes, so
she was relieved when he picked up the phone on the second ring. He had been
out working on Jasper’s old Dodge, he explained. “Not only does the old thing
start, but it actually keeps running now,” he said with pride. “Gramps wouldn’t
have believed it.”

“I’m
sure he’s looking down and smiling,” she said.

“I’m
sure.”

“Tom,”
she said after a moment’s pause. “Do you want to go out tonight? I mean, really
out?”

“An
actual date?”

She
felt herself blush. “I’m sorry to be so forward. It’s just that, well, it looks
like tomorrow everything’s going to start. I’d like a night to forget about
it.”

They
agreed that she would come by to pick him up at 7:30. In the meantime, she had
more to do. The next thing was to phone Colin Krebs.

“I
can’t talk to you,” he said when he heard who it was. He spoke slowly, as
though he had to work to get his tongue around each word.

“You
have to, Colin. They have to be stopped, and I can’t do it without your help.”

“Not
on the phone!” he hissed.

“I’ll
come to you then.”

“No!
Not here. I’ll come to you,” he slurred.

“Colin,
are you drunk?”

He
let out a brief, sardonic chuckle before stifling it.

“You
shouldn’t drive.”

“I
can get a cab.”

Reluctantly,
she agreed.

“You
can meet me at the Chateau Marmont in an hour,” he said.

“The
Chateau Marmont?” she said with surprise.

“I’ll
be in Bungalow 3.” The receiver clicked.

Holding
the receiver in the middle of her kitchen, Marie stood and listened to her
refrigerator hum for a moment before she hung up. Her cat was perched on the edge
of the kitchen table, looking expectantly at her. She petted him around the
ears for a moment and then said, “This is crazy, Murphy.” The cat purred
contentedly.

* * * * * * * *

Parking
her eight year old Chevrolet near all the Packards, Cords, and Rolls Royces
behind the high white walls of the Chateau Marmont made Marie feel more like a
fish out of water than had either of her trips to Julian Piedmont’s mansion.
Though she had driven past the hotel countless times over the years, she had
never had a reason to stop here or even think about what went on inside its
walls. And while the touristy attractions in the heart of Hollywood had always
struck her as commonplace areas to avoid, the Chateau Marmont exuded the
elegance that the rest of Hollywood only aspired to.

Nervously
expecting someone to ask her what she was doing here, she left her car and
began looking for Bungalow 3 amid the fern and palm bordered paths that spread
out behind the main hotel building. After a few minutes, she saw a small
cottage with the number 3 on its door, and she walked up the path to it. Around
one side of it, she could glimpse a small private patio in front of immense
glass doors. The curtains were drawn, and for a moment, she wondered if this
could be another trap. After getting away from Laura Tremaine and her demon,
Marie had promised herself that she would never be so easily taken in again;
she froze in place as she imagined Colin having sold her out to Julian Piedmont
and the two of them conspiring to get her here, alone and without any defenses.
It could be a drunken Colin Krebs on the other side of the door, she told
herself, or it could just as easily be some of Julian’s other followers—ones
who were more adept and more dangerous—if not one of the incubi
themselves. Adrenaline flowing, she told herself that Colin was still too
fearful of the cost to his own soul for him to betray her to Julian, and so she
knocked on the door, ready to run if she felt any sign of danger.

“Who
is it?” Colin called from inside.

“It’s
Marie,” she said, trying not to be too loud. It was eleven o’clock in the
morning and some of the hotel staff still moved among the bungalows.

Colin
didn’t answer her, but opened the door with a click. Marie assumed it was
Colin, at least. From where she stood, the bungalow’s interior was darkened,
and she could not see anyone waiting for her inside.

“Colin?”
she asked tentatively.

“Yes,
of course,” came the voice from the other side of the door. It was clear that
he did not want anyone to see him letting her in. “Hurry up, for heaven’s
sake!”

Looking
quickly around to see if anyone might be lingering on the pathways outside, she
took a deep breath and walked through the door. Colin quickly closed it behind
her, and she found herself barely able to see.

“Turn
on the light,” she demanded, her body tense and ready to spring.

Seconds
later, a click started a small lamp burning, and she looked around to see Colin
Krebs standing beside an elegant sofa. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw that they
were in a beautifully appointed room with a full kitchen just behind Colin and
other rooms branching off. All the curtains were drawn, including those that
must have opened onto the patio Marie had seen from outside.

“You
don’t…live here, do you?” she asked after a moment of listening carefully for
any sign that they were not alone. The longer she stayed in the room, the more
sure she was that Colin had not brought her here as part of a trap. Regardless,
she remained as vigilant as she could while trying not to appear suspicious or
jumpy.

Colin
shook his head. “Julian keeps it. He lived here on and off before his father
died. Gave me the keys.” He jingled the keys he kept in his pants pocket. Then,
sharply, he added, “What do you want?” He still sounded drunk, and Marie saw a
half full glass on an end table next to the sofa and a bottle of vodka beside
it.

“Information.”

“I’ve
told you all I can.” He sounded desperate, the way she would have imagined a
hunted man to sound just short of being caught.

“I’m
going to stop them, Colin. With or without your help.”

“I
doubt it. They’ve gotten too strong.”

“I
think I know how to stop them regardless.” She swallowed hard and licked her
lips nervously. “Tell me how I can find them.”

“Can’t.”

“You
have to, Colin. Do you want more victims on your conscience? On your soul?”

“Marie,
I can’t. Julian—”

“Will
never know,” she said firmly. “There are still only five of them, right? You
haven’t made any more?”

Her
question seemed to make him crumble, and he winced as though she had struck
him. “He wants me to,” he said. “He says things are going to change. I think
he’s been talking with someone outside our circle. He’s acting strangely.”

“How?”
Marie asked.

“It’s
hard to explain. Julian’s so…confident all the time. But now I get the feeling
he’s not in control anymore. Says we’ll need more bodies soon and that it’s
going to be glorious. He’s not well. He raves now. And the house. You wouldn’t
recognize it. All the servants gone. He’s not paying attention to business.
Rumor has it he’s put the whole studio up for sale.” He paused and reached down
for the vodka. After taking a big drink, he sighed and wiped his mouth, then
said, “It scares the life out of me just to be around him.”