Jon Merz - Vicarious

“Yes?”

“Got a shop over on Charles Street. Little place, but some interesting items in there.”

“What did he say about the button?”

“He knew the age the bone came from. Called it ‘agni-‘ something or other. Said it came from a region in Southern France. Amazing, huh?”

“Maybe he specialized in that in school.”

“Maybe,” said Curran. Outside, the sky gave way to more rain. He watched a few drops stain the white cement dark.

“What is it?”

He looked back at her. “Probably nothing. I’ve just got this feeling that there’s more to this guy than I can see on the surface.”

“Your feelings are telling you something.”

Curran looked at her. He could see the glimmer in her eyes. Hope. She wanted him so much to give in to his feelings. To listen. To learn.

He sighed. “Yeah. Probably.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Maybe sit on him for a while. See what turns up.”

“You mean surveillance, right?”

“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just there was something there this afternoon when I saw him. Weird. Like some sort of connection. I didn’t go there with the intention of questioning him so much as just asking him to keep an eye out for something strange. But then we got to talking and the next thing I know, I’m asking to see his winter coat. Weird.”

“He complied, of course.”

“Be damned foolish not to. But even though nothing turned up, I couldn’t shake the idea that he was — I don’t know — almost mocking in the tone of his voice. Like he was the keeper of some great secret. Crazy, huh?”

“Maybe not, Steve.”

“Yeah, maybe he’s the Soul Eater. Maybe he’s the caretaker of some beast he lets loose upon the world at night.” He smiled. “I’ve been watching too many bad horror flicks.”

Lauren’s eyes never left his. She seemed to be staring intently at him. “Seems to me that your intuition might be gaining some strength.”

Curran nodded. “So we sit on him and see what happens next.”

“You know if he’s really involved somehow in this, he might just be able to spot any surveillance.”

“Yeah. But what other choice do we have? I don’t know too many people who can psychically monitor someone.”

“Neither do I,” said Lauren. “But we might want to be real careful.”

“Kwon and I will handle it. You’ve got other stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like try to figure out what exactly this Soul Eater is trying to accomplish. Didn’t you mention that Sister Donovan’s last words were-“

“-he lives best through the evil of others,’ yes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget those words as long as I live.”

“Right. But what do they mean?”

She shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

“Tell me about Sister Donovan.”

Lauren took a sip of coffee and then wiped her mouth on a napkin. “No one really knew her all that well. She’d been a missionary for years. Traveled all over the world. She told me the other night, before her death, that her husband had researched a lot of evil things in the world. Supernatural stuff. He died and she took over his research. Said she moved from place to place trying to piece together what her husband had been trying to accomplish.”

“She say if she was successful?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about journals? She might have kept some type of diary. Maybe she wrote some of this stuff down somewhere.”

“I thought that too but I found nothing at the library the other night.”

Curran nodded. “So, maybe she kept it some place else. Maybe she felt like she couldn’t share this stuff with the powers that be. After all, how open is the Church to matters like this?”

“Judging from how the nun I spoke with today took the news, they’re not all that well primed for it. Most of the Church administration is far too focused on dealing with the sexual abuse cases that have been pending.”

Curran nodded. “As well they damned well ought to be.” He fought back the rising surge of anger and sighed. “So, maybe this old nun she was a lot smarter than anyone thought. Maybe she hid the journals.”

“You think?”

“Seen stranger things before.” Curran frowned. “Cripes, maybe the Soul Eater showed up over there the other night trying to find them himself.”

Lauren’s eyes lit up. “My God, you really are starting to believe.”

“I haven’t seen any alternatives that make a strong case. So if this is the way it comes down, I have to try and figure it out like a normal case. Just with abnormal ingredients.”

Lauren seemed to be getting excited. “Maybe Sister Donovan hid them at her house then.”

“Maybe,” said Curran. “Maybe the Soul Eater found them.”

She slumped back. “That would be bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he didn’t.”

Curran nodded. “Always a chance she hid them well enough. Especially if she knew anything about what we’re dealing with. She might have known how to conceal it from this guy.”

“I wonder if I can get in there,” said Lauren.

“You want to go right now?”

“We don’t have much time. Two days will be over before we know it.”

“I’ll have to go watch that antiques dealer, though.” Curran frowned as the thought hit him. “You’d be alone.”

Lauren bit her lip. “Yes. I would.”

Curran reached into his coat and brought out the small automatic. He kept it in the palm of his hand and pressed it into Lauren’s hands. “You ever fire a gun before?”

She looked down. “Once. I took a self-defense course that stressed real life knowledge and practice.” Her eyes seemed sad. “But I can’t take this. I can’t carry a gun, Steve.”

“You’d rather end up dead?”

She looked at him.

Curran continued. “Look, you might not like the idea of the gun, but if you die and you’re not able to help fight this evil thing off, then wouldn’t you be even more responsible? You could use this to defend yourself and possibly save hundreds of lives.”

“Most of those lives are pretty evil in their own right.”

“Yeah. Yeah they are.”

“But we’re all God’s creatures.”

Curran smiled. “I was waiting for that.” He nodded. “Just tuck it away in your coat. You won’t even notice it. It’s a small.380. Carries six rounds. You know how to work a safety catch and all that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Curran looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. Kwon’s going to be waiting for me.”

“All right.”

Curran stood. The pile of folders he’d been reading through when Lauren came in shifted. He saw it too late. His hands flew out trying to catch them, but they dropped to the stained linoleum floor. Papers and printouts scattered across the small area between their table and the one next to them.

“Dammit.” Curran bent and started shoving the papers back into the folders. He and Kwon could take turns getting them straightened out later on. At least it would give them something to do.

Lauren bent down. “Let me help you.”

Her hand brushed against his. Curran looked up and met her eyes. She smiled. And kept her hand there. Curran smiled. Her skin felt so warm. He wondered what the rest of her felt like.

He broke the contact. Gonna burn in hell for deflowering one of God’s women, he thought.

“Steve.”

He sighed. “Yeah?”

“Who is this?”

Curran glanced up. Lauren held a glossy photo of one of the antiques dealers. “Let me see.”

She handed it to him. Curran nodded. “This is that guy Darius I was telling you about.”

Lauren’s eyes never left the photograph. “I think that was the man outside the library.”