Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon Hunting Soccer Mom

Chapter Eleven

With the exception of Stuart’s continued absence, the party was a roaring success. It had expanded beyond the original guest list, and now the living room and den overflowed with politicos, all standing around talking about funding and candidates, with the occasional praise of my cheese puffs thrown in for good measure.

I smiled and nodded and tried not to look at the clock every three minutes. Not easy. I saw Clark cross to the bar, and I tagged along behind him, waiting patiently while he finished up a conversation with a stern-looking woman in a black-on-black suit. “Eminent domain is not a power to be tossed around willy-nilly,” she said. “Be careful, Mr. Curtis, or we will see you in court.”

Had she not sounded so serious, I would have smiled at the phrase willy-nilly coming from the lips of such a buttoned-up woman. As it was, I wasn’t laughing. “What was that about?” I asked as soon as she’d gone.

“The county’s looking to acquire some land for expansion of the college. Unfortunately, the land we want is already occupied by some nice little clapboard houses.” He lit a cigarette and looked so miserable I didn’t even remind him that we don’t allow smoking in the house. “Sometimes I hate my job,” he said.

“Sometimes I hate your job, too,” I said. “Is that the reason Stuart’s late? Do you have him working away on some land deal?”

“Stuart’s my candidate, Kate. Do you really think I’d keep him away from his own party?”

I didn’t, but I’d secretly hoped. Otherwise, I didn’t know what to think.

I mingled a bit more, keeping my political-wife smile firmly plastered on my face, but only half-listening to the conversations going on around me. When I heard the front door open and close, I hurried in that direction, expecting to see Stuart, but instead finding Judge Larson.

“Thank God you’re here,” I said, leading him into the relative privacy of the kitchen. “I’m going crazy.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” I said.

“That bad?”

“Stuart’s not here. He’s half an hour late for his own party. And there are demon hordes roaming the streets near the community college.”

“Oh, dear,” Larson said. He poured himself a drink. “Let’s examine those one at a time. Have you called him?”

“Twice. I just get his voice mail.”

“There was an accident on the 101. He’s probably stuck in traffic.”

“For his sake, I hope so.” Throwing these parties was painful enough. Throwing them without Stuart was positively torture.

“About the demon hordes?” Larson prompted.

“Right,” I said, pitching my voice lower. “Look at this.” I pulled out the newspaper article, then let Larson read in peace as I puttered around, piling more cheese puffs and baby quiches onto a cookie sheet, then shoving them into the oven.

After that I made a quick hostess run through the living room and den with a newly opened bottle of red wine. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, I didn’t catch anyone looking at their watch with a frown, and everyone was polite enough not to mention Stuart’s absence. When I got back to Larson, he was leaning over the table, each hand on either side of the paper, literally shaking with rage.

“Larson?” My voice was barely a whisper, but he heard me. He turned his head up to face me, and the anger I saw there made me take a step back. “Judge? What is it? Did you know him?”