“Please, sit down,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen around the corner. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Beer, if you have it,” Gio said, as we both settled into the recliners.
“I do not. Alcohol is the devil’s gasoline, and I for one like to keep the great deceiver’s tank on E. Besides, I thought officers couldn’t drink on duty?”
“That’s only in the movies,” I replied, and shot Gio a look that could’ve shattered glass.
“Ah,” he said. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. As Reverend Bellows always says, fiction is lying. So: apple juice or Fresca?”
Gio mimed gagging, and I punched him in the thigh. “Water would be fine,” I said.
“Water it is,” he said. A couple minutes’ puttering, and he returned carrying a tray laden with drinks, and a crystal dish of hard candies.
“Care for one?” he said, grabbing a handful and unwrapping them with all the eagerness of a methhead looking to score. “They’re sugar-free. Even still, I usually limit myself to two a day —Jesus hates a glutton —but this week has left me out of sorts. As if I need to tell you that, after my outburst at the door. I’m so sorry you had to witness that; my language was inexcusable.”
“The hell’re you talkin’ about?” Gio asked. “You mean when you said jerk?”
Shaw colored. I fought the urge to punch Gio in the leg again.
“You have to understand,” Shaw said, “I’m simply at the end of my rope. I haven’t slept a wink in days. My Mabel took the girls up to Branson to stay with their grandparents as soon as we returned home from the police station —she scarcely said a word to me that whole ride home, and now she won’t even return my calls! Of course, normally in times of crisis, I’d find solace in the church, but once my story hit the papers, my congregation wanted nothing to do with me. I’ve been asked not to attend services until further notice. They gave away my choir solo to that cow Lorena Wilkins. Now I hear there’s even talk of excommunication! I know the good Lord never presents us a challenge we can’t handle, but right now, I don’t see how I’m going to manage!”
He popped three candies into his mouth and crunched away at them with zeal. The way they sounded, I was less worried about his mental state than his teeth.
“Mr Shaw,” I said.
“Rick.”
“Rick. I understand this is a difficult time for you, but if we could ask you a few questions about what happened Sunday night–”
“But that’s just it! I have no idea what happened Sunday night. One minute, I’m putting the girls to bed, and the next, it’s hours later, and I’m wandering like a Jew through the desert, naked as the day God made me! Mabel said I got up in the middle of First Corinthians and walked right out the front door, but I swear I don’t remember doing it —and to this day, I haven’t the faintest notion what became of my clothes.”
“Believe it or not, that’s not uncommon in cases of this type. What we need to know is if there’s anything at all you can tell us about your missing hours. Sights, smells, general impressions. Any detail you remember, no matter how small, would be a great help to us in our investigation.”
Shaw slumped in defeat. “I wish I could help you —really, I do. But I’ve been over that night a thousand times, and I’ve no memory of it at all. If you don’t mind my asking, what, exactly, are you investigating? What could have done this to me?”
“Demon,” Gio muttered, but not quietly enough. Shaw’s eyes went wide with sudden fear and disbelief.
“Worshippers,” I interjected. “Demon-worshippers. We’ve been tracking them across the lower fortyeight for months. They’ve got a nasty habit of drugging people and luring them out into the desert for their weird-ass ceremonies. Word is, they’re trying to conjure up a demon. But you’ve got nothing to worry about, Mr Shaw. Once they strike, they’re unlikely to return to the same target a second time, and the fallout from the drugging aside, they shouldn’t pose any future threat to you or your family. They’re just a bunch of misguided nuts with no more idea as to how to call a demon than you or I.” More you than I, I thought. I mean, I’m not a crack conjurer or anything, but I know a couple blood rites that’ll summon in a pinch.
But Shaw found no comfort in my words. Instead, he looked pale and drawn, and his hand trembled as he reached for another batch of candy.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, I wouldn’t be too sure of that. See, there is one thing that I recall from Sunday night —only it seemed so crazy, I assumed it was a dream.”
“And what’s that?”
“An awful stink, the likes of which I’d never smelled before. But even still, I know exactly what it was. Deep down, I guess I always knew.”
“Knew what? What was it that you smelled?”
“Brimstone,” he said. “The devil’s stench.”
19.
“So, do demons really smell like brimstone?” Gio asked once we were back on the open road.
“Not any demon I ever met. Though I once knew one who wore way too much Drakkar.”
“Then why the hell’d we hightail it outta there so quick?”
“Because that doesn’t mean it’s not a clue.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Well, it seems to me if it wasn’t the demons that reeked of sulfur, maybe it was the place they took him to.”
“You sayin’ you know where that is?”
“Nope,” I said. “Not yet.”
“Then where the hell’re we headed?”
“Library.”
“Library?”
“Yeah, you know —big building, lots of books. They were all kinds of popular back in the day when people actually used to read. Don’t worry, you’ll like it —they have Google.”
“Thanks, smart-ass. What I meant was, why are we going to the library?”
“I’m working on a theory,” I said. “One that’s gonna take a little research to confirm. Believe me, when I know something, you’ll know something, OK?”
Gio fell silent for a moment. “Hey,” he said finally, “you think Shaw’s gonna be all right?”
“Hard to say. Seems to me, it’s fifty-fifty whether or not his wife comes back —and I’m pretty sure his spot on the choir is gone for good. But my guess is, he’ll be OK.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“He’s got faith,” I said. “And once the dust settles, his faith is going to be stronger than ever.”
“How the hell you figure that? The poor bastard just got bitch-slapped by the universe —you really think it’s gonna help his faith?”
“I don’t see how it couldn’t. The way I see it, even the most devout among us have their moments of doubt. Enough bad shit happens to good people in this world to rattle even the churchiest of Christians, and you can’t tell me that a hardcore atheist doesn’t plead with God to make it stop when he’s got the bed-spins after a couple drinks too many. It’s human nature —we’re all of us stumbling in the dark, latching on to whatever brings us some measure of comfort and security, no matter how fleeting. Only Shaw managed to stumble into something bigger and scarier than himself —the kind of something his precious Bible’s been warning him about all his life. Doesn’t matter much the book was written by a bunch of clueless saps just like him, trying to piece together the unpieceable; once the shock of his encounter wears off, he’s bound to start seeing his no-good-very-bad day as a big fat confirmation of everything he’s ever believed.”