Julie Kenner California Demon

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beamed at my daughter, who blushed down to her toes.
Although I watched like a hawk, I didn't catch one ill-mannered move toward
Allie. He brought her sodas and food, made her laugh, and went out of his way
to clear a place on one of the oversized beach blankets for her to sit. All in
all, I had to approve.
I wasn't going to lift my no-dating rule, but maybe just maybe we could invite
this kid over to watch a movie. With the lights on. And me and Stuart (and
Eddie and Timmy) in the room, too.
By the time the sun was hovering just above the horizon, Laura and I were
sitting with a few other parents, all of whom were also watching their kids. I
watched as David circulated among the kids, pulling the surfers aside, and
sending them off to gather at the water's edge.
When he got to Allie and Troy, I saw Troy squeeze Allies hand before leaving.
Then David said a few words to Allie, and a broad smile split her face. I had
no idea what he'd said, but I had to admit that he was good with her. From
what I'd seen, he was good with all the kids.
In fact, I couldn't think of one thing that was wrong with David Long. So why
did that little warning light go off in my head every time I was around him?
I leaned toward Laura. "Him," I said, nodding toward David.
"Are we playing Twenty Questions?" she asked. "What about him?"
"You can start your research with David Long."
She shifted on the blanket so she was facing me, then glanced around to make
sure no one else was listening. No one was. The other parents were gathering
up their things, anticipating moving closer to the water to watch the surf
team do their thing.
"You really think he's up to something?" Laura said. "He seems so nice."
"That's what I don't like," I said. I'd met David the same day all of this had
started. He was either a demon, a mysterious key-leaver, or in the wrong place
at the wrong time. I wanted to know which one.
"Honestly, Kate, you didn't used to be this paranoid."
I just stared at her.
"Right. Okay. Paranoia is good. I can see that. So what do you want to know
about him?"
"Whatever you can dig up. How long has he been teaching? How long at Coronado.
Where's he from?
Is he married? You know. The usual."
"I'll see what I can do," she said. She hauled herself up to her feet.
"Meanwhile, I'm going to go watch the guys surf."
We moved closer, and from our new vantage point, I could see the surfers
standing with their boards, all lined up for a picture. The guy in the
middle tall and blond and definitely not high-school age seemed familiar to
me, but I couldn't place him.
"That's Cool," Laura said, when I asked if she knew. "You know, the surfer."
"As a matter of fact, I didn't know. And I'm amazed that you do. Do you know
all the local basketball players, too?"
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She made a face. "He's been in the news, Kate. If you wrangled the remote away
from Stuart and Eddie, maybe you'd see something more than political coverage
or old Match Game reruns."
"My repertoire's broader than that," I said. "I'm thoroughly versed in each
and every episode of
The
Backyardigans
. And I always know who the
Sesame Street celebrity guest's going to be."
"Yeah? Well, Cool is the celebrity guest here. It says so on the sign by the
hot-dog stand."
I cocked my head, looking at him more closely. If he was that much of a local
celebrity, I probably had seen him on the news or in a local commercial. I
certainly couldn't imagine where else I'd have seen a six-foot-something,
tanned and oiled surfer dude. I mean, I haven't watched an episode of
Baywatch in years.
Laura lifted her bottle of sparkling water. "I'm switching to the hard stuff,"
she said. "Diet Coke. Want one?"
I shook my head, realizing that I'd already finished off four bottles of water
and was beginning to feel it. I
hauled myself to my feet
. "Be right back," I said. I looked around, orienting myself, then pointed
back toward the hotel. "The only bathroom's that way, right?"
Laura nodded. "We passed one just after we got off the boardwalk. It's pushed
up against the base of the cliffs and there's a little concrete path leading
up to it. You can't miss it."
I set off that direction, still thinking about Cool. Yes, there were demons
afoot. And yes, something was definitely brewing. But that didn't mean I had
to be suspicious about the surfer simply because he looked familiar. The
low-budget commercials the local merchants aired on television were usually
pretty bad, but they hardly crossed the line to demonic.
The public restroom was deserted and remarkably clean. I attributed that to
the fact that it was
December. Although you can go to the beach year-round in San Diablo, only the
hardiest of souls actually brave the water during the winter months, and the
tourists are conspicuously absent. The Pacific's cold enough during the
summer; drop the ambient temperature a few degrees and you have a situation
more suitable for polar bears than people.
Not that the water temperature was slowing down the surfers. As I came out of
the restroom, I could hear the laughter and applause from the students as they
cheered the surfers on. From this vantage point, my view the kids on the
beach was blocked by an outcropping of rock. But I had a clear view of the of
ocean, and I could make out six surfers, bouncing on the waves, waving at the
crowd, and generally having a good time.
As I hurried down the path, I passed a sanitation worker coming up, one of
those broom/dustpan combinations in his hand. His familiar green coveralls
caught my eye. For that matter, they probably saved my life.
Because if I hadn't been eyeing him, I might not have seen the way he slowed.
The way his hand tightened on the broom handle as he dropped the dustpan
aside.
And I definitely would have missed the way he lashed out with the stick in a
deadly maneuver aimed straight for my throat.
Chapter Ten
I thrust my right arm up in a lightning-fast move designed to protect. At the
same time, my left arm whipped across my body in a defensive motion. I
snatched the handle, my fingers closing tight.
My attacker howled in frustration, his volume only increasing when I yanked
the broom out of his grasp. I
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jammed it down hard on the concrete, using the heel of my foot to snap off the
whisk part.
All that took less than a second, and I spun the staff, then jammed it out,
catching him in the gut with the end of the stick. His breath escaped with a
whoof
, and he tumbled backwards, clutching at his middle.
I recognized him right away the green overalls, the fleshy face. And,
course, the "Coronado High of
School, Ernesto Ruiz" monogram on the pocket was a dead giveaway (no pun
intended).
I'd been attacked by the high school janitor.
Since I doubted he'd jump me simply because I'd messed up his supply room, I
was pretty certain that the janitor was a demon. "Why are you here?" I
demanded, my voice low and deadly. "And who is your master?"
He tightened his hands around the staff, trying to release the pressure on his
belly. "Fool," he rasped.
"You cannot win. Give us what we seek and we'll let you live."
"The book? I burned it."
"You lie!" he hissed.
"You can look for it in Hell," I said, lifting the staff just long enough to
slam it down once again, this time through his eye.
I didn't make it, though. I'd underestimated his strength, and as I released
my hold, he reached out, managing to grab the long-handled dustpan. He swung
it up and out, the metal scoop part slicing across my belly and ripping my [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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