K Stewart: A Devil in the Details

“I can’t speed up the cycle of the moon. Two weeks. Less than that, even.”

“Could I come talk to you in person? Where are you?”

“No, you may not.” Never mix work with… other work. Just safer for everyone involved that way. “I’m at my other job, and they don’t know about things like-” Realizing at the last second that to say “things like you” would not be a good idea, I finished instead, “Like what we’re dealing with. I intend to keep it that way.”

“But I really think-”

In the background, I heard the unmistakable and imperious sound of Travis Verelli’s voice. “Is that him? You’re talking to him, aren’t you? Put down the phone, Nelson! We discussed this!”

Kidd tried to get his plea out in a rush. “Please, Mr. Dawson, I really need to… Ack!”

I listened in amazement as the two grown men proceeded to tussle over the phone. I couldn’t even tell who was winning, but there were many grunts and half-muffled expletives. In all honesty, I didn’t hold much hope for Verelli in a physical scuffle, especially not against a professional athlete-even an old one.

The phone crashed to the floor with a jarring clatter and I winced, holding it at arm’s length. When I finally put it back to my ear, I heard nothing but silence beyond. What the hell happened?

“Um, Mr. Kidd? Hello?” I got no answer; not even the sound of heavy breathing. “Uh, listen, you work things out with your agent, and I’ll see you in two weeks, okay?” I hung up on dead silence, unsure what else to do. Weird.

Sure, Kidd’s pleas made sense. I am not a man without sympathy. The thought of dying while the minions of Hell owned my soul was not pleasant; I admit this. But I couldn’t speed up time, or protect him from the random acts of nature, or God, or even his well-meaning agent. And considering that I was most likely facing jail time in the near future, Nelson Kidd, for good or ill, was on his own.

Something low and mournful, fitting to the darkness outside, wailed from the radio as I walked back to the front. I flicked it quickly to a bouncier station. We didn’t need to add to the oppressive atmosphere.

Kristyn stood at the windows, watching the wind whip the leaves from the tiny trees. “Ellen came over. She says they’re closing up shop and going home.” She nodded toward the jewelry shop across the street.

“You wanna go home?” It wasn’t my first Missouri storm. It wouldn’t be my last. But even I could tell that this was going to be one for the record books.

“Jesus, if corporate found out I’d shut the place down during business hours, they’d burn me at the stake.” Kristyn chewed on her lower lip, though, watching the lightning strobe through the darkened sky. It was closer now. “I’m gonna call Chris and Leanne and tell them to stay home, though. No reason to drag them out in this mess.”

“Good idea.” The shopping center was deserted, from what I could see. Nothing stirred, save the billows of yellow construction dirt on the far side of the courtyard, churned up by the sporadic wind gusts. The shop lights opposite us gleamed weakly through the clay dust fog. Something white and plastic went bumping down the street and out of sight-a bucket, maybe. “Come on. If stuff gets nasty, we don’t want to be standing by these windows.”

I put my arm around her shoulder-normally a no-no with our strict corporate stance on sexual harassment, but damn the Man-and led her to the back of the store where we could hover over the radio and pretend we were contributing to the greater good. It was going to be a long damn day.

My day got significantly worse when the doorbell chimed, announcing someone’s arrival. Believing that no human would be insane enough to go shopping on a day like this, I fully expected it to be Axel.

As it turned out, I was wrong about Axel, and the sanity of our visitor was definitely in question.

Nelson Kidd struggled to get his umbrella down, but the wind had warped it beyond salvation, and he finally flung it to the floor to watch it spin in drunken circles. Even at a distance, I could see the staring, glazed expression in his blue eyes. I’d seen that look before, in victims of sudden catastrophe. It was the look they had right after they went numb and just before they started screaming.

Kristyn rounded the counter to greet him with her retail-brilliant smile, but I grabbed her arm and shook my head at her. I’d handle this one.

“Welcome to It. Is there something I can help you find?” Out of Kristyn’s view, I gave Kidd a warning look. He’d better be damn careful what he said here. Pretending he’d answered me, I grabbed his elbow, squeezing just the right place to make his fingers go numb, and dragged him into the racks of assorted hoodies. “How the hell did you find this place?” I hissed.

The old man winced and extracted his arm from my grip. “Caller ID on the phone. I did a reverse lookup on the Internet.”

Damn the Internet. “Well, in case you’re wondering, coming out in this is what is going to get you killed. Are you insane?”

He ignored my question and clutched at my shirt like a drowning man. “You have to help me. Look, I wired the funds like you told me. Twice your asking price.” He waved a crumpled piece of paper in front of my eyes. “He doesn’t want to give up my soul. He’s going to kill me before you can help me…”

“No. He’s not.” I snatched the paper from him, mostly to get it out of my face, then carefully extracted myself from his fevered grip. “They can’t hurt you, unless you allow it.” But oh, if the demon could find a loophole, trust me, he would. I firmly believe that the very first lawyer was a demon. I didn’t tell Nelson Kidd that. The man was an inch away from snapping as it was. “Where’s Verelli?” As much as I didn’t like the slimy agent, I thought he could at least corral his client until this bout of paranoia had passed.

“He’s… tied up. Agent stuff, I dunno.” Kidd’s eyes darted nervously, but before I could question him further, thunder boomed directly overhead and the lights, giving one flicker, went out. A few tense heartbeats passed before the generators kicked in and the emergency lights hummed to life. In the sickly green lighting, I could see the whites of Kidd’s eyes, wide with panic. “He’s going to kill me…”

“No one’s going to kill you.” I grabbed his arm again, just to keep track of him. “Kristyn? Let’s go ahead and hit the storm shelter, ’kay? I’ll lock the doors.” Well, I’d lock them once I could get Kidd confined. It was rather like dragging Annabelle when she was in one of her obstinate moods. Every step toward the back was an exercise in pitting my weight against his.

I almost made it.

Outside, a low whine began and quickly swelled into a strident wail. The early-warning system, tornado sirens, shrilled their warning for blocks around.

“No!” With a strength born of sheer terror, Kidd wrenched free of my grasp and bolted for the door. It binged cheerfully as he disappeared into the storm.

“Fuck!” Kristyn stared at me wide-eyed as I grabbed one of the hoodies from the rack and pulled it on. “I’ll get him. You get to shelter.”

I don’t know whether she locked the doors behind me as I ran out. The rain had just started to fall, large drops the size of fifty-cent pieces, big enough to sting against bare skin. The wind whipped my hair around my face until I pulled up my hood, scanning the area. Only our side of the shopping center had lost power. On the lighted side, the neon storefronts threw rivulets of colored light across the rain-slicked pavement.

Down the block, I watched Kidd’s fleeing figure disappear just past the Starbucks. Where the hell did he think he was going? The parking lot was in the other direction. “Hey! Get back here!” Although my right leg reminded me I was a bastard, I ran after him anyway, calling Kidd every nasty name I could think of-you know, the really good ones I can’t say in front of Annabelle.