Demons are Forever: Confessions of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom

by Julie Kenner

  “I know. That’s what I was trying to do, remember?”

  I managed I smile. “I know. Thank you.”

  “The demons, though,” he said, his expression grave. “You do need someone watching your back.”

  “I’ve managed alone just fine.”

  “You have. But for how much longer?”

  I turned away, refusing to acknowledge the question. “Maybe it’s a moot point. If the demons have the ring, chances are good they’ve left San Diablo.”

  “And you’re good with that?”

  I shook my head. “But I’m not chasing around the globe anymore, Eric. I have a family. They come first.”

  “All right,” he said, nodding slowly. “But what if the demons don’t have the ring? What if they’re still looking for it?”

  I sighed, acknowledging the point. “Then I’ll do what I’ve been doing. And I’ll do it alone.”

  I turned for the door. I needed to get out of there before he saw my heart breaking.

  “Allie,” he said, his voice a whisper behind me.

  I didn’t turn around; I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. “You’ll see her at school. As for the truth ... I don’t know. I’m ... I’m going to have to think about it.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder, and I closed my eyes. “I never stopped loving you, Kate.”

  “I know,” I said, my voice thick. “I never stopped loving you, either.”

  Fifteen

  About the same time that I was confessing to my first husband that I still loved him, my second husband was standing behind a podium announcing his candidacy for county attorney.

  Too bad for me, I didn’t remember any of that until I was driving home from Eric’s. Just one more tickey mark on my ever-growing guilt tally.

  To his credit, Stuart took it okay once I told him (more guilt) that I’d had to rush to the high school for an emergency involving Allie, and that the announcement had completely slipped my mind. The emergency, I’d told him, was girl-related, a lie that I correctly assumed would prevent him from probing for more details.

  “I’ve got some campaign functions to go to next week,” he’d said after I’d apologized for the nine hundredth time.

  “I’m so there,” I’d promised, which smoothed the way even more, but not completely. I knew there were still a few bumps because instead of coming home, Stuart informed me that he’d be working late at the office.

  I almost begged him to reconsider. At the moment, I really needed to feel my husband’s arms around me. But the truth was that his absence was convenient. And that was a truth that made me feel even guiltier.

  Wallowing, however, wasn’t on the agenda. And so while Eddie dozed in the recliner and Timmy sat far too close to the television, I power-dialed every pawnshop in the Yellow Pages. If it was a student who stole the ring, I couldn’t imagine that he or she would want to actually wear the hideous thing. It wasn’t much of a lead, but at the moment, it was the only one I had.

  Unfortunately, it went nowhere. None of the pawnshops had received a ring matching my description, and by the time the closing credits rolled on Timmy’s ninety millionth viewing of Frosty, I was trying to decide if I should give up or expand my search to include pawnshops in the adjacent counties.

  “What’s for dinner?” Allie asked, bounding in from Stuart’s study, where she’d been camped out in front of his computer, researching Andramelech and other demon-related things for the last hour or so.

  “Whatever you want,” I said. “Want to order a pizza?”

  “On a Wednesday?” She cocked her head and looked at me. “Why?”

  I tapped the phone book and explained what I was doing. “Why don’t you make a list of everyone who takes gym at the same time you do. Then circle anyone you think might have it in them to steal jewelry.”

  “Okay, cool.” She shifted from one foot to the other.

  “What?”

  “You said I could only do the research stuff for an hour, and then I had to do homework.”

  “So I did.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Mom, it’s been an hour. So, like, if you want me to do this list thing, I have to wait on the algebra. Is that okay?”

  I couldn’t help my grin. “Yeah,” I said, waiving my firm schoolwork-comes-first policy in favor of potentially saving innocent-though-thieving students from the forces of darkness. “That’s okay.”

  “Rock on,” she said, then disappeared to order the pizza. She came back in and announced that dinner would arrive within forty-five minutes, and that she’d be in her room.

  “Hold up a sec,” I shouted. “Did you close Stuart’s browser? Did you do that thing ...” I waved my hand in a circle, trying to remember what Laura had told me. “The history and the cookies,” I finally said. “Did you delete them?”

  I felt a little ridiculous training my daughter to hide her Internet meanderings from Stuart, but I didn’t want to field the questions that might arise if Stuart saw where she’d been browsing. He might think nothing of it. Or, he might think that our girl was getting involved with the wrong kind of crowd.

  In a way, I supposed that she was.

  She headed off to do that, and when she returned, I thought to ask the most important question. “Did you learn anything?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. I think I got a few leads, maybe. Eddie said he’d help me out, though, after I get my homework done this week. And then we’re going to the library on the weekend.”

  “Oh, really?” I’d have to remember that the next time Eddie told me he was out of the game. “And here I thought research wasn’t his thing.”

  She stared at me blankly and I waved her off, watching as she barreled up the stairs before I turned back to my phone calls. Santa Barbara County was next on the agenda, and if that didn’t pan out, I just might start with Los Angeles.

  Since Timmy was fidgety now that the movie was over, I took the cordless phone and moved to the couch, letting my little boy snuggle in my lap as he oh-so-helpfully flipped through the Yellow Pages for me. I’d managed to call a grand total of three pawnshops when I heard an, “Ohmigod, Mom,” from upstairs.

  I was on my feet in a second, Timmy tumbling from my lap and squealing with laughter. “Allie!” I called, racing for the stairs and fearing the worst. “Allie.”

  Her door flew open and she leaped out, the address book in her hand as she did a round of cheerleader-style high kicks. “I got it! I got it! I so, so got it!”

  “What you’re going to get,” I said, “is trouble. You scared me to death.”

  “But I figured it out,” she said.

  “Who stole the ring?”

  She shook her head as she handed me a list of about thirty names, none of them circled. “I can’t believe any of these guys would steal it,” she said.

  “Then what?”

  “Daddy’s code!” She grabbed the address book off her bed and tossed it toward me. “And Nadia Aiken’s the first person in the book.”

  “See?” she said, pointing to the entry in the black address book. “That’s got to be her.”

  We were at the kitchen table now, and Allie was a bundle of energy, squirming in her seat and waiting for me to confirm her brilliant deduction.

  “It says Aidan,” I said. “What am I missing?”

  She let her head fall back, then blew out a sigh. “Come on, Mom. It’s so obvious.” She stabbed the book with her finger. “Aidan A. That’s totally an anagram. N. A. D. I. A. And the A stands for Aiken.”

  “Wow,” I said. “You may be right.”

  “I know I’m right. I’m totally right.”

  “What if it’s just a coincidence?”

  “It’s not,” she said. “Daddy loved anagrams, remember? We used to play them in the car.”

  I did remember, actually. I’d always been lousy at them, but Eric had been delighted that his eight-year-old daughter was just as tickled by the damn things as he was.

  “It might not
be her,” I said, but now I was speaking only for form. Because “Nadia” was also an anagram for “Diana.” And now I had to wonder: Was she lying to Eric about her name? Or was Eric lying to me?

  “Just call already,” Allie said, squirming in her chair. “Either way, we’ll know soon enough.”

  Apparently I was raising a pragmatist. I drew in a breath, a little nervous about what new secrets of Eric’s were about to be revealed, but determined to stumble forward anyway.

  I was just about to pick up the phone when it rang. I glanced at Allie, who shrugged. I wasn’t in the mood for calls, and I didn’t recognize the name on the caller ID— Lackland—but I answered anyway. Then soon found myself wishing I hadn’t.

  “Kate? Is this Katherine Crowe?”

  I clutched the kitchen counter, my knees going weak at the sound of my former name. “Who’s calling, please?”

  “Kate? Is that you? This is Betty Lackland. You know, from the library?”

  “Betty. Hi.” I let out a sigh of relief. Allie had just talked to her, which means she was probably calling to tell me what my daughter was up to. “Thanks so much for talking to Allie the other day,” I said, wanting to nip in the bud any suspicion that Allie was poking around behind my back. “She really appreciated it.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mind at all, dear. She’s a lovely girl.” She hesitated, then lowered her voice to a stage whisper, “But that’s actually why I’m calling.”

  “Okay,” I said. I held up a finger, then signaled to Allie to stay while I went into the other room. I didn’t know what Betty was up to, but I could already tell I wasn’t going to like it. “What’s up?”

  “It’s just ... oh, dear. I wasn’t going to bring this up,” she said. “Not ever. But I’m just so afraid that if your daughter keeps poking around that, well ...”

  “Betty, what?”

  “Well, I’m afraid she’s going to find out some unpleasant things about her father.”

  I immediately tensed. “Like what, exactly?”

  “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t even want to tell you this. But, well, Eric was acting quite peculiar before he took that trip to San Francisco.”

  “Peculiar how?”

  “Well, he always kept to himself, but I’d never gotten the feeling that he was hiding something. But that week ... Well ... it’s just that ...”

  I drew in a breath. “Betty, please, don’t worry. It’s been almost six years. I’m remarried. Whatever you have to tell me, I’ll be fine.” That was about as blatant as a lie could be, but it served my purpose.

  “It’s just that there were so many telephone calls. With that woman,” she added, as if women by nature carried disease.

  “I’m sure it was nothing,” I said, trying to sound cheery. In fact, though, it was probably everything. The calls from Nadia—from Diana—were what convinced him to go to San Francisco in the first place, and the secrecy certainly didn’t surprise me. Not under the circumstances.

  “It’s just that, you know, she was such a pretty thing.”

  That caught my attention. “You met her?”

  “She came into the library once. And Eric was very remote after she left. Honestly, he seemed a bit irritated that she’d come at all.” She sighed heavily. “Oh, Kate darling, I just hate telling you all this, but—”

  “Nonsense,” I said, my throat tight. “I appreciate your concern. But she’s a family friend. Truly. There was nothing going on. Nothing at all.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I’m so relieved.”

  “Quite a burden to hold on to for all these years,” I said, forcing myself to smile so that I sounded cheerful and happy.

  “Yes, it was. And I’m so glad to know it was all a misunderstanding. I couldn’t believe that Eric would cheat on you. That just didn’t seem like him.”

  I gripped the phone so hard I was afraid it might break. “No,” I said, “not like him at all.”

  An affair. As I hung up, I turned the possibility over in my mind. No way. It simply wasn’t feasible. I don’t care how much sneaking around he was doing. Eric Crowe would not cheat on his wife. He wouldn’t cheat on me. Period. End of story.

  But as I tried to push the thought from my head, Betty’s words kept coming back to haunt me. And once again, I had to remind myself that I didn’t know Eric nearly as well as I’d once believed.

  I did finally manage to pull myself together enough to go back into the kitchen, where Allie was waiting impatiently for me.

  “Well?”

  “Nothing,” I said, hoping I was speaking the truth. “Turns out it was nothing at all.”

  “Then can we call, already?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. I picked up the phone and dialed the number, only to be rewarded by the telltale clicking of a forwarding service, and then a live voice. “Wayside Answering.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Hi. I’m not sure I called the right place.” I read the number in the book back to the operator.

  “That’s correct,” she said. “Would you care to leave a message?”

  “Is this the number for Nadia Aiken?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Aidan A?”

  “I’m sorry, no.”

  “Diana Kaine?” I tried, figuring the third time’s the charm.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I grinned at Allie and gave her a thumbs-up sign. In a day gone terribly awry, at least we’d managed one victory.

  “Is this service still active? I mean, does she get a lot of calls?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t disclose that information.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  “Would you like to leave a message?”

  I did, keeping it short and sweet but to the point.

  “My name is Kate Connor, but I used to be Katherine Crowe,” I began. “We used to work for the same people. And I think I’ve got information about a buddy of yours. A Mr. Andre.” I ended with my telephone number, then turned to Allie with a shrug. “I guess we’ll see.”

  “There was a person on the other end?”

  “That’s how answering services used to work,” I said. “Before voice mail.”

  “Freaky.”

  “Mmm.” From my daughter’s perspective, anything not run with a microchip was freaky indeed.

  “So now we wait?”

  “You need to be prepared for the fact that she may never call back. Who knows how long ago that service was set up? It might have been paid years in advance. Nadia really could be dead. We just don’t know.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Okay. So, like, what else can we do? There’s got to be a way to find the ring, right?”

  I hoped there was, but it was a long shot. “We’ll see what Father Ben and Father Corletti come up with,” I said. I’d called Father Ben right after we learned the ring was missing, and we put together a conference call to Rome. Father Corletti had immediately dispatched the news to all active watchers and alimentatores. Forza would keep a close watch on cult activity. If any of the Andramelech cults became active, we’d hear about it. And we’d know that he’d been released from the ring.

  “But that only works if a demon stole it,” Allie said, after I reminded her of all that.

  “True enough,” I said. I pulled her student list from my back pocket. “That’s why we need to get busy on this.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know most of these kids well enough, and none of the ones I do know are the type who’d steal someone’s stuff. But I’ve been thinking, and I think I can figure it out if I just ask around. I mean, Coronado’s a pretty good school, all in all. If someone’s bragging about stealing a ring, I bet I can find out about it.”

  “Allie,” I said sharply, “you need to be careful.”

  She presented me with a major eye roll. “Come on, Mom. I’m only going to talk to other kids. I’m not even going to threaten them with a crossbow.”

  “Allie ...”

  “Honestly,” she said, holding up her hands, a mischievous expressio
n on her face. “I’d never manage to smuggle a crossbow into the school. Your stiletto, though ...”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “Go,” I said. “I’ll call you when the pizza gets here.”

  “Cool.” She bounded off through the living room, and I leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to shake the dark mood that was beginning to settle over me once again. Diana Kaine.

  Who are you? More important, who were you to my husband?

  I was balancing on a knife edge, with the man I’d loved so desperately right there, close enough to touch. And yet I couldn’t have him. Wasn’t even sure if I trusted him.

  And I told myself I didn’t want him. I had a new family. A new life. And as sad as that made me, my life with Eric had died when his body did.

  I knew that. I knew it a thousand times over. In my head, the answer was so clear. So simple.

  My heart though ... my heart wanted to cry.

  “The boy’s asleep on the couch,” Eddie said, shuffling into the kitchen. He peered at me, then planted himself in my path. “Give it up, girlie. This ain’t cramps. What’s got your panties in a tangle?”

  I couldn’t help it. The tears began to flow.

  And Eddie—curmudgeonly Eddie, who’d known the truth all along and didn’t trust David at all—held me tight and let me sob.

  Sixteen

  I cried myself to sleep, and was awakened by the press of something soft against my cheek. Immediately, I was on alert, but I managed to rein in my reaction before I impaled my husband with the stiletto I’d slipped under the mattress on my side of the bed.

  “Hey,” he said from beside me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Weird dreams,” I said, noticing the rose he held out for me. “Stuart?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I blinked, wondering if perhaps I wasn’t still asleep and having a very odd dream. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For being mostly AWOL these last few months getting ready for the campaign. And because I know I’m going to be absent even more, now that it’s officially started.”

  I propped myself up on an elbow. “Stuart, I’m the one who missed the announcement.”