An hour later I was searching Woodridge for the St. Martin of the Flowers church. My GPS had it just up the street on the left, so I turned, found it, and parked in a small lot surrounded appropriately by a garden of tall colorful flowers.
The church was small, with long shadows falling across the porch in front. I opened the door to a foyer leading to the sanctuary and let my eyes adjust to the dim light seeping through the stained-glass windows.
A man sat in a pew halfway back, hunched over. Blond hair, thick shoulders. I walked down the aisle and edged into the pews quietly. “Zack?”
His head jerked up. He twisted around, like a kid caught watching porn on the internet. “Huh?”
“Your uncle Oscar sent me. Oscar Parks? I’m Tom Jurgen.” I kept my voice low and as soothing as I could manage, suitable to a conversation in a quiet church. “I met him last night after you, uh, ran off.”
He was wearing shoes now, and a hoodie halfway zipped up his chest. “Oh. Yeah. Uncle Oscar said he’d get someone. He can’t drive anymore.” Zack seemed calm, if a little nervous. “Who are you?”
“I’m a private detective. Tom Jurgen. Your uncle asked me to come get you.” All true statements, with a lot of details left out. “Shall we go?”
“Excuse me?”
That came from a priest walking swiftly down the aisle from the pulpit. He was in his 30s, slender, wearing a dark suit with a crisp white clerical collar around his throat. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m just here to take Zack back to his uncle’s house.” I looked around. “Should I leave something in the collection box, or—”
“Zack, you don’t have to go away with this man.” The priest crossed his arms. “You’re safe here with me.”
Oh great. “Look, I’m not here to kidnap him or anything. I’m just doing a favor for his uncle.”
“It’s all right, Father Ross.” Zack lifted a hand. “Thanks for your help.”
“But I’m almost prepared for the—”
“NO!” Zack’s voice was suddenly a thunderous roar. “I have to get out of here! Now!”
He pushed his way past me, shoving me against the back of the pew, and then he was running up the aisle, shouting gibberish.
“Zack!” The priest glared at me. “Do you see what you—”
“Hang on.” I wasn’t letting this happen again. I took off up the aisle after Zack.
He dashed through the foyer, but fumbled with the doorknob in front. I was right behind him as he threw the door back, and I clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Zack, just talk to me a minute—”
He pushed my hand away and stumbled through the doorway, but then he stopped, breathing hard, staring at the sky. A few clouds floated in the sky, and a light breeze blew the fragrance of the flowers across our faces.
Zack sank onto a bench next to the door, his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” He murmured. “I’m sorry. I just—”
The priest was out on the porch with us. “Zack? Do you want to come back inside?”
“No!” he shouted again. Then his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Father Ross. I just—I just can’t.”
I looked at him, shuddering and shivering as he wiped his nose with his sleeve. I wished Rachel was here, but even without her I thought I knew what was going on.”
“Zack.” I sat down on the bench, keeping a few feet between us. “Zack—are you possessed? Is there a demon?”
His face went white as he stared at me. The priest froze.
Zack nodded, biting his lip. “Y-yeah. Uncle Oscar was trying to—to help me, but it made me run away.”
“How did you get here?”
“I slept in the park. Then I called Jessica. She’s my ex. I didn’t know where to go, so she was driving me back to her place, and then I—” He looked down at the ground. “I don’t know how I ended up here. But Father Ross, he’s going to help me, but then I—it—got scared. I had to get out of there. I’m sorry,” he said to the priest.
Father Ross nodded. “That’s all right, Zack. Do you want to go back inside?”
“Or do you want to go back to your uncle’s house?” I asked.
Zack twitched. “No. Yes. I don’t know.” He sat forward, arms around his head, rocking back and forth.
Father Ross put a hand on Zack’s shoulder and looked at me. “Yes, he’s possessed. I have everything ready inside. I can do it here.”
“An exorcism?” I looked up at him. “Have you done one before?”
“Well, no. I’ve read a lot about the ritual, I know the procedure—”
“I’ve assisted at some,” I told him. I even pulled one off myself once, mostly through luck, but that didn’t make me qualified to perform one. “They’re tricky. He needs someone who’s been through it before.”
Father Ross looked offended. “I know what to do. I can—”
“Stop!” Zack’s hand shot up and pushed Father Ross away. He looked at me. “I’ll go with you. Take me back to Oscar. Sorry.” That was to Father Ross. “Thanks for helping me.”
The priest sighed. “If that’s what you want. Are you sure you’ll be okay with this man?” He gave me a suspicious glance.
I could understand his skepticism. I pulled up my phone. “Let me call Mr. Parks. You can talk to him. Make sure I’m who I say.” I found his number and handed Zack the phone.
Father Ross gestured to me. I stood up, and we went to the side of the porch,where we could watch Zack as he talked to his uncle.
“Thank you.” He seemed relieved. “I don’t know if I could have performed the exorcism by myself. But it was my duty to try.”
“I understand. I seem to run into these supernatural things more often than most detectives, so I have a little experience.” I gave him my card.
He handed me a card with the church’s phone number and email address. “Could you let me know when he’s recovered? I only just met him, but he seems in need of help.”
“Sure.” We shook hands. I turned. “Zack?”
“Yeah.” He stood up and handed my phone over. “Let’s go. Thanks, Father Ross.”
“I hope everything works out for the best, Zack. I’ll pray for you.”
In my car I set the GPS for Parks’ house. Zack was silent, and after a few minutes he slumped over, asleep. A night in the park probably didn’t make for a restful snooze.
Then my phone buzzed. I looked at the caller ID, and quickly pulled over to the curb.
Zack jerked up, confused. “What?”
“Sorry. I’ve got to take this.” And I didn’t want to be driving when I answered. “Tom Jurgen speaking.”
“Mr. Jurgen? This is Detective Cruz of the Chicago PD. Have you recently been in contact with a Leonard Rupp?”
I glanced at Zack. “Yes. He’s a former client. He hired me for a job yesterday. I’m a private—”
“Yeah, I know who you are.” Lots of Chicago cops know me. Very few of them like me, mostly because I insist on telling the truth about the vampires and other monsters I run into. “What was the job?”
“What’s this about?”
“Don’t make me come and take you down to the station. Jurgen. Just tell me what he hired you to do.”
I could argue, but that never works out well, and Cruz sounded impatient. “He hired me to locate his brother. I did, temporarily, but then I lost him. That was it.”
I could see Zack tense next to me at the word “brother.” I held up a hand and shook my head.
“Where was this brother when you found him?”
“At his uncle’s house. In Naperville. But he ran away.” I was purposely leaving out the part that I’d just found him again. Technically, that wasn’t what Cruz was asking me.
“Where are you now?”
“In my car. In Woodridge. On another case.”
“Did you talk to Rupp last night? After you lost the brother?”
“I called him, It was about 9:30. I reported, and he told me to send an invoice. That was it.”
“Nothing after that?”
“No. I sent him an email this morning. He didn’t respond. Detective, what’s going on, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I do mind. For your information, though, Leonard Rupp is a person of interest in a stabbing last night. A woman in Wicker Park, Carol Beck. She’s dead. Happened after midnight. Know anything about that?”
I looked over at Zack, who was staring at me like a cornered puppy. “No. Nothing like that.”
Cruz paused. Finally he said, “All right. Call me when you get home. I’ll have some more questions for you.”
“Right.” We hung up.
They must have found Rupp’s phone to find my name, or looked at his emails. This didn’t have anything to do with Zack. Did it?
“W-what’s going on?” Zack’s arm twitched.
“It’s your brother Leonard.” I started the car. “He hired me to find you, to watch your uncle’s house last night. When you ran away I thought everything was over, but I talked to your uncle for a bit, and then I went home. Your uncle called me today after you called him. But now the police apparently think your brother—”
I hesitated, watching Zack from the corner of my eye. “They think your brother may have something to do with a woman who was murdered last night.”
“Oh God.” Zack closed his eyes for a moment. “I thought—I hoped it was just a dream or something.”
I braked for a red light. “What?”
“I saw—there was a woman. And a knife. And I—she screamed and fell down, and I was running away, and—” He shook his head. “I was in the park. Trying to sleep. But I couldn’t. I kept hearing his voice. And seeing things. It was—that was Leonard?”
“I don’t know.” I have some experience with demons, like I said, but every demon and every possession is different. “Let’s see what your uncle says.” I needed to concentrate on not getting into an accident.
“Can we get something to eat?” Again he sounded like a little boy, afraid of getting yelled at for asking a question. “I mean, I haven’t had anything all day.”
“Sure.” I spotted a Burger King up ahead. “Give me a minute.”
Back at Parks’ house Zack and his uncle talked in the living room, beneath the cross hanging on the wall, while I called Rachel from the bathroom. “Geez, I can’t let you go anywhere by yourself, can I?” she asked.
“I seem to be a demon magnet,” I agreed. “Maybe that’s what attracted you to me in the first place.”
She snorted. “Who said I’m attracted to you?”
“Well, last night—”
“I was in character last night.” She giggled. “Well, maybe not all the time.”
“Good to know. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Do that. Be careful. Don’t get possessed yourself. And all that stuff.”
“I love you too.” We hung up.
Back in the living Zack was asleep again, snoring softly on the sofa, and Parks was flipping through his Bible. ”Thank you for bringing him here.” He closed the book and stood up. “Beer?”
“Sure.”
In the kitchen he opened us both beers. We sat at the table. “Last night I thought you were—I don’t know. But Zachary tells me you’ve been kind to him, and I appreciate that.”
“All I did was stop for a burger and Coke. He hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”
“You did more than that.” He sipped his beer. “Although I still don’t know who you are.”
I gave him the short version of my autobiography, complete with vampires and other creatures of the dark I run into, showed him a picture of Rachel, and explained how I’d ended up outside his house last night. Then I told him about my call from the Chicago police, and Zack’s dream.
He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. “This is a lot more complicated than a typical demonic possession. If there is such a thing as typical. You could tell he was possessed, right?”
“The church and the priest seemed to agitate him,” I said. “At least some of the time. And I saw him run from you last night, and with the cross and the Bible in your living room—well, I’ve dealt with enough possessions that I could put it together. My girlfriend would have known from 10 feet away. She’s psychic.”
“That’s interesting. At least you keep an open mind.”
“Demonic possession is maybe the least unbelievable thing I’ve run into.” I sipped my beer. “Can you help Zack?”
Parks sighed. “It’s complicated. Like I said.”
“Because of his brother? They’re linked somehow?”
“They’re both possessed.” He looked through the doorway, out toward the living room where Zack slept. “They’re both possessed, and they’re possessed by the same demon.”
“Okay.” I’d never heard of that. “How does that, uh, work?”
“I don’t know.” Parks shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it before. Not that I was ever involved in too many exorcisms. But I do know that for it to work, we need both of them. Here. Together.”
Uh-oh. “You can’t just take care of Zack and do Leonard later? Maybe when he’s out on bail or something?”
Parks looked as if I didn’t understand. “I don’t know if doing just one brother would even work, or if it would leave it with the other one. We need to send it back to Hell.” He shuddered. “If the police are right, we know what it’s capable of.”
I bit my lower lip. “That could be a problem. What with Leonard on the run from the cops for murder.”
Parks nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ll have to call the police when I get home. They know I was here last night, looking for Zack. I didn’t tell them I found him today, but they’ll probably want to talk to you. And Zack.”
He frowned. “They won’t believe me. About the demon.”
“Probably not. I mean, I know some cops who’ve seen strange things.” A few of them even didn’t think I was entirely crazy. “But trying to lie or hide things from them usually ends badly.”
He sighed. “I suppose.”
I stood up. “I should talk to Zack.”
Back in the living room Zack was snoring restlessly on the sofa. Parks sat down next to him and nudged his shoulder. “Zachary? Zachary?”
His eyes popped open, frightened and disoriented. Parks handed him a bottle of water, and he took a long drink before setting it down to look at me.
“Hi,” he said, nervous.
“Hi.” I took a chair across from the sofa. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“It’s all right, Zachary.” Parks patted his arm. “He’s a detective. He can help us.”
I hoped he was right. “You live with your brother Leonard, right?”
“Yeah. I, uh—well, I had a job at a real estate office, admin stuff, but I got fired. I was, uh—” He looked away from me. “I have a problem with drugs.” He sighed. “Prescription stuff, mostly, and, well, other stuff. I’ve been clean for six months,” he said hurriedly. “But I lost my apartment, and Leonard let me move in.”
“How long ago?”
“Six weeks or so. He doesn’t—we don’t get along real well, but he’s my brother. He did help me get straight, took me to doctors and meetings and stuff, and I got a job at another office, part-time. That was good. I’m doing good.” He looked at Parks, who smiled.
“That’s great,” I said. “So when did the demon come?”
Zack closed his eyes. “I’m not sure. Maybe four weeks ago? I remember Leonard came home one night, and he was—different. I thought he was drunk. He was saying stuff that didn’t make any sense, words I didn’t even recognize. He just passed out in the living room.”
He hesitated, as if his memory was murky. “The next morning I felt like I had a hangover. But I wasn’t doing any drugs or anything like that. I just felt—funny. Leonard seemed okay, but there was something different about him. He didn’t talk much. Then . . .” He took a breath. “I started hearing voices.”
“What did they say?”
“I couldn’t understand them all the time. Different languages. Sometimes I don’t think it was even words. But they wouldn’t let me sleep. I couldn’t think, or focus on anything.” He shifted on the sofa. “Leonard started acting—strange. He hit me once. He tried to lock me in my bedroom. One night he sat in the middle of the living room floor in his underwear, not saying anything, just looking at—nothing.”
He rubbed his head. “I didn’t eat. I didn’t change clothes. Leonard stopped going to work, but he went out—I don’t know what he did. Then, yesterday, he tried to—tried to—”
Zack closed his eyes, tears running down his face. “He tried to strangle me. I left. I ran around for hours, not knowing what to do. I don’t know how I got here, but Oscar let me in. He was trying to help me, all day, but then last night I got scared, and—I ran away.”
Parks patted his arm again. “I was trying to do the exorcism rite, but I don’t really know how. That spooked the demon, and Zack got upset, and then—well, you saw it.”
“Yeah.” Zack running away, barefoot and half-crazed, into the night. “Have you talked to Leonard since yesterday?”
“No.” He stopped to think. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember a lot about last night. I remember waking up and finding a store with a phone, and the only number I could remember was Jessica. She’s my ex. She picked me up, and—I don’t know how I ended up in that church.”
I got Jessica’s number in case I needed to confirm Zack’s story later. Then I asked, “So, where would your brother go if he didn’t want to talk to anyone?”
Zack blinked. “You mean—hide?”
“The police are looking for him. If they haven’t already arrested him, that means they can’t find him. And we need him to get the demon out of you. Both of you.” I glanced at Parks. “And to stop him before he kills anyone else.”
Parks looked stern. “The demon killed that woman.”
“The police won’t see it that way. Whether a jury will—well, I don’t know.” Wasn’t there a movie about that? I looked from Zack to his uncle, trying to think of what to say.
“Look,” I said finally, “I only got hired to find Zack. And I’m probably not even going to get paid for that.” Parks started to speak, but I held my hand up. “That’s all right, I’m not after money from you. I want to help you, but I’d just as soon not go to jail and I definitely don’t want to get killed. My girlfriend would get really upset.” I could imagine Rachel cursing my embalmed body at my funeral.
Parks nodded. “I can understand that.”
“So the thing is, I really have to talk to the police.”
Zack looked alarmed. “But what will happen to Leonard? He can’t—I can’t let him—”
“He’s right, Zachary.” Parks sighed. “I hate it too, but if the demon is making him kill people, then, well . . .” He looked at me. “Do what you have to do. Will the police believe you?”
“Maybe.” Some cops had seen the same things I have. They didn’t always want to admit it, though. “Either way, they need to know Leonard believes he’s being possessed by a demon.”
“I suppose.” Parks wasn’t happy, but he seemed resigned.
I looked at Zack. “Do you have any idea where your brother might go? If he wanted to hide?”
Zack thought for a moment. “Leonard has another place,” he said, as if just remembering. “It’s an apartment close to his condo. I think it’s for, uh, women. When he doesn’t want to bring someone home. He rents it under the name uh, Lawrence Pullman. No, Puller. Lawrence Puller. He might be there.” He gave me the address.
“Do you have any pictures of Leonard?” I looked from Zack to his uncle. “I’ve never actually met him, we just talked on the phone.”
Parks stood up and walked to a bookcase, coming back with a framed photo.
Two men stood outside, under a tree, arms around each other’s shoulders. Zack, and a man slightly taller than him, heavier, with the same stocky build and blond hair. Zack was smiling; Leonard frowned as if he wanted the picture finished.
I took a picture on my phone and handed it back. After a few more questions, I told them I’d be in touch.
At the door Parks put a hand on my shoulder. “I know all this isn’t your problem. But thank you. I’ll pray for you.”
“Uh, thanks.” Despite everything I’ve seen, I’m still pretty agnostic about religion. And I was in Hell once. But I don’t turn down any offers of assistance. “Everything helps.”
He smiled.
Out in my car I called Cruz’s number. Another cop answered. His name was Meyerson, and he listened while I told him everything I knew, including the address Zack had given me.
When I finished he was quiet for a moment. Then: “A demon? That’s the story they’re going with?”
“That’s what they told me. I know you won’t believe it, but I’ve seen this before. I mean, I’m not saying it’s a legal defense that’s going to get Rupp off, but—”
“Whatever. Where are you now?”
“In my car. Parked.”
“Okay. Go home and stay there. We’ll be in touch.”
I glanced at Parks’ house as I started up. Lights came on in the living room, behind the curtains, but I couldn’t see any movement inside. After another minute I buckled up and started home.
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