The Devil You Know (6 page)

* * * * * * * *

When
she got home, she hugged Marie and trudged to bed, pulled an afghan spread
across her and tried not to let the morning replay in her mind. As her eyes
closed, she listened to the sound of the front door closing and, a minute
later, the rumble of Marie’s engine. When she heard the car pull away, she
smiled with relief and exhaled deeply, convinced that she was sinking more
deeply into her pillow, sleep only moments away.

When
she heard a faint tapping from her front room, though, she furrowed her brow
and felt her blissful peace slip away. She opened her eyes and listened for the
tapping to repeat, wanting to believe she had only just imagined it.
A quick little dream maybe
, she told
herself. But then the tapping repeated a moment later, and she knew it was
someone at her front door.

Probably
a nosy neighbor, she thought, or maybe Marie had left something behind. “Damn
it,” she whispered as she got up. She already missed the pillow’s warm embrace.

When
she got to the front door and opened it, she found a familiar face on the other
side of the screen. It was no one from the neighborhood. Instead, she looked
into the deep, wide eyes of the handsome, wavy-haired man from Julian
Piedmont’s party. At one look she knew it was him, and all her memories of
their time together flooded back into her mind. She felt no fear, but only
excitement. Her heart began beating rapidly, and she felt warmth between her
legs.

Without
a word, the man reached for the handle of the screen door, and Elise stood
aside to let him in, a smile on her face. She did not think, did not worry
about anything. There was nothing to worry about, and all the fears she had had
throughout the morning were now as hazy as the memories from Friday night had
been until now. No sooner was the front door closed than she was in his arms,
his mouth on hers and his hands gliding down her back. She did not know his
name, but hoped he would never let her go.

Chapter Five

“Are
you feeling all right, Marie?” Father Joe asked on Monday morning. He stood at
his office door, a cup of coffee in his hand.

Marie
had not heard him open the door. Startled, she jumped in her seat. “I’m fine,”
she said after a moment, forcing a smile.

“I
didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s
all right.” She gestured toward the window. “I guess the rain was taking me
away.”

Father
Joe nodded and returned her smile. “That’s fine. I was just a bit worried about
you. If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t look quite yourself this
morning. Thought you might be coming down with something.”

“Oh
no,” she said, waving her hand. “It’s nothing. I was just…it was a bit of a
hard weekend. I spent time with a friend who’s sick.”

“Nothing
serious, I hope.”

“No.
Just done in by the flu, I guess. She’ll be back on her feet in no time.”

Father Joe sipped his coffee then tilted the cup toward
her. “Head over to the rectory and pour yourself a cup if you like. Worrying
about the people we love can take a lot out of us.”

Marie
thanked him, but declined the coffee. She felt awful lying to him about what
was wrong with Elise, but she knew it would only have made her feel worse to
explain what had really happened. She added the lie to the list of things she
would ask forgiveness for at her next Confession—at another parish, of
course. As the priest went back into his office, she thought about what he had
said and wondered whom Father Joe loved. He never talked about family or anything
personal. As far as Marie could tell, the little congregation at St. Lucy’s was
his only family.

She
tried to turn her attention back to the correspondence he had asked her to
read, but had a hard time putting out of her mind the strange events of the
last two days.

The
drive out of the hills on Friday night had been mostly silent. Marie had tried
questioning Elise about what had happened at the party, but all she got were
vague, hazy comments. Before long, Marie accepted the idea that Elise was somehow
intoxicated and nothing more. “I’m tired,” Elise had repeated as the car took
curve after curve down the hill, and once they were on level ground again,
Marie decided it would be all right to take Elise home and let her sleep off
whatever the man at Piedmont’s had given her. If something seemed wrong in the
morning, Elise could go to the hospital then.

After
spending the night in an overstuffed chair dragged to the side of Elise’s bed,
she had been relieved to find her friend appearing almost completely normal on
Saturday morning. At Elise’s insistence, Marie had gone home that afternoon,
having made Elise promise to call if she felt the least bit strange. It was
only a five minute drive from Elise’s house to her own, and as Marie had pulled
into her narrow driveway, she felt for the first time just how exhausted she
was from her poor night’s sleep and the almost constant worry she had undergone
since finding her friend the night before.

As
soon as she got the front door open, her cat Murphy greeted her reproachfully.
She fed and petted him a moment, then headed into the bathroom to draw a bath.
As she began to undress, she realized that she had never changed out of the
dress she had borrowed from Elise, and still had her wedding ring on the chain
around her neck. She had promised herself to put it back on as soon as they’d
left the party, but here it was almost evening of the next day; she had
forgotten. With a sigh, she lifted the chain over her head and set it down
beside the bathroom sink. She stared at the ring for a few seconds and thought
about putting it back on, but then she scooped it up and took it to her
bedroom, where she dropped it into her jewelry box without giving herself the
chance to change her mind.

She
had gone back to the bath, finished undressing, and slid into the tub. The
tears came without warning and did not stop for a long time, falling for Elise
and for Ryan and for herself. Since the night before, she had made herself hold
all of her fear and anxiety inside, and now the feelings came out, amplified by
utter exhaustion. By the time she’d drained the water and dried herself, she
was completely spent, and though the sun had only just set, she had gone to bed
and slept until morning.

Now
she sat in the outer office at St. Lucy’s working her way through the stack of
mail that Father Joe needed her to attend to. It seemed an endless task, and
pointless as well. The afternoon dragged on. The rain let up and left the
office windows covered in a film from the droplets that had fallen all morning.
Marie eventually pulled her
Weird Tales
from her purse and the larger
Woman’s
Home Companion
from her desk drawer, but she could not concentrate on the
stories. Father Joe had come back from the rectory around two o’clock, dictated
a letter to her, and then disappeared into his office again. When he came out
at 3:30, he gave Marie a sad smile and told her to go home early. She protested
and apologized for being so lackadaisical, but the priest waved it away. “Don’t
think twice about it, Marie,” he said. “We all have days when we’re not quite
ourselves. Go and rest. See how your friend is. We’ll make a better go of it
tomorrow.”

Feeling
embarrassed but grateful, she packed her things and left the church office
quickly. She cut through the chapel and wondered if she should swing by Elise’s
on the way home. No, she thought; it would be better to go home, feed her cat,
and let herself relax for a while. She had tried Elise’s number a few times
already without getting an answer, and assumed her friend must have felt well
enough to go to work. Besides, continuing to hover around Elise would only keep
Marie from finding her own rhythm again. If Elise should call her, she would
give her whatever help she could, but until then she would try to put the
weekend behind her.

When
she got to the main doors, she stopped for a moment, unable to remember if she
had genuflected and made the sign of the cross before the altar. It was such an
ingrained habit that she always did it automatically, but today she had been distracted;
she thought for a moment about turning back, but then pushed her way through
the two oak doors. She would do it twice in the morning, she told herself.

Her
car was in the little lot right beneath one of the magnificent oak trees that
graced the church grounds, and she walked toward it briskly while she reached
into her purse for her cigarettes. A big black Lincoln was in the lot, the only
other car besides her own, and she saw the driver was getting out as she made
her way up the walk from the chapel. She expected to see a parishioner emerge,
but stopped short when she saw that it was the same sandy-haired pervert from
Piedmont’s. If she moved quickly, she would reach her car before he could, but
she knew she wouldn’t be able to get the door unlocked and opened before he was
upon her. So she stood her ground as he approached and kept her car between
them.

“Who
are you?” she said, making no effort to speak quietly. “What do you want?”

The
man took a few more steps without responding. When he reached the back of the
Chevrolet, he held both hands out in front of him, palms open to show she
should remain calm and still. “Please. I want to help you. My name is Colin
Krebs,” he said furtively, glancing around as if to make sure no one else was
nearby.

“You
work for Piedmont?” Marie asked.

“Not
exactly.”

“Does
he know what happened to my friend?”

He
gave an embarrassed smile. “It’s not so simple as that. I can explain, but…”

“Then
explain,” Marie said, taking a step toward him. Her anger was rising, and the
man’s body language and tone of voice told her she had little to fear.

He
put his hands in his pockets. “I said it’s not that simple. And I can’t…here.
Can we go somewhere else?”

Marie
scowled and walked the rest of the way to the front of her car, her eyes on him
constantly. “Mr. Krebs, I have no intention of going anywhere with you. I’d
have to be a fool to do something like that after what I’ve seen you and your
friends are capable of. Do you know what they put my friend through?”

He
took a deep breath and smiled nervously. “I do. Not your friend specifically, I
mean, but I can guess.”

She
glared at the man. “What happened up there? They gave her something, didn’t
they?”

“Please.
I can’t. Like I said. Not here. I’ll tell you everything. Everything I know. I
just can’t do it here.” He sounded nervous and afraid.

Marie’s
eyes narrowed. “Why me? What do you want from me? I’m nothing to you. You’re
not just going to tell me everything.”

“I
have my reasons. I can explain. Please. You have to trust me.”

Marie
folded her arms across her middle, her car keys held in a tight fist.
Think of Elise
, she thought.
At least this guy might be able to tell me
what happened.
“All right,” she said finally. “But you better have
something good to say, or I swear I’ll call the police.”

Relief
spread across Krebs’ face. “I promise,” he said.

Marie
nodded, not happy to have given the man a sense of hope. “Follow me,” she said
coldly.

“Where
to?”

“Someplace
public.”

A
look of panic came across Colin’s face. “I can’t just talk about this in
public. You have no idea.”

“Don’t
worry,” Marie said. “No one will pay you any mind.” Without waiting for him to
move, she stepped forward and unlocked her car. Seconds later, she turned the
ignition key, satisfied to see in her rearview mirror that the man was moving
quickly back to the black Lincoln. She had wanted to give him the feeling that
she would back over him if he didn’t move, and from the way he hurried to his
car, she guessed that she had succeeded.

* * * * * * * *

“Do
you know what an incubus is, Miss Doyle?” Colin Krebs asked. They stood close
together along one of the walls that bounded the courtyard of the Chinese
Theater. Ten feet away, tourists with cameras moved from Humphrey Bogart’s
footprints to William Powell’s, none of them paying attention to the man and
woman who talked beside the wall. Many of them wore sunglasses and brightly
colored summer clothes even though rain clouds still filled the sky. A steady
line of cars rolled by on Hollywood Boulevard; most of them slowed in front of
the famous theater as passengers gawked. The rumble of their engines created
enough of a din to keep anyone nearby from hearing Colin and Marie as they
spoke in hushed tones.

In
any other situation, Marie would have rankled at being called “miss” even
though her wedding ring was no longer on her finger, but Colin’s question came
as such a surprise that his address went unnoticed. She had a general
understanding of what an incubus was, but could see no connection between the
legendary being and what had happened at Julian Piedmont’s. “I think I do,” she
said, adding quickly before he could continue, “but if this is some kind of a
joke you’re trying to pull, I’m going to the police and turning you in. The lot
of you will come across worse than Fatty Arbuckle ever did.”

“Please,”
Colin said. “Just hear me out. If you want to report me when I’m done, fine.
But just listen first, all right?”

Marie
hesitated a moment, but then nodded, a scowl still on her face. She listened as
Colin Krebs told her about what had happened after Leonard Piedmont’s wake,
leaving nothing out. It sounded unbelievable, but she sensed that Colin clearly
believed he was telling her the truth. He spoke quietly and went completely
silent whenever passersby got too close.

“Julian
gathered us all together the next day,” he said. “He told us that there were
spirits in the house, lustful spirits. They were tormenting him. We thought he
was crazy—maybe with grief over his father, or who knows? Anyway, he
convinced us.” He looked down at his shoes for close to a minute before
continuing. When he spoke again, he was choking back tears. “The things, the
spirits—there’s something about Julian that they’re somehow bound to.
Even though I was the one who called them. Maybe it’s because of the house or
just the same thing about Julian that draws everybody to him. No one ever
really has a reason. Regardless, they do what he tells them to. So we’re
standing there in the main room—where the band played Friday—and
suddenly five of us start to feel, well…sexual.” He looked toward the ground
again, but continued speaking. “Myself included. It was like there was someone
there, physically doing things to arouse us, but there was no one there. Just
ten men standing in the room, no one touching anyone.”

He
looked up again at Marie, and she saw real fear in his eyes. “It was the most
intense physical feeling I’ve ever felt, and…well, that’s as far as I’ll go.
And then Julian gave the command to stop, and it did.” He snapped his fingers.
“Just like that.”

“And
you think these were demons?”

“It
was awfully convincing.”

“So
how does this explain what happened to my friend? I saw men at that party, not
spirits.”