Devil's Advocate

Angelique heard the blood rushing in her ears and could feel her face pale as her thoughts raced to keep up with his words. Scott’s brother. How had she missed this information? She had it written down that Scott had family, and even what their names were. This was…Kyle? Kevin? She couldn’t recall. Dazed she swallowed thickly and tried to think of something to say, an excuse as to why she had all of Scott’s info. Anything.

“So? Tell me!” he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper but slowly rising. “Who are you? And what do you want with my brother?”

“Not here.” She managed to choke out, snatching the page from his hands and standing on shaky legs. She cleared her throat and grabbed her laptop bag, shoving the page roughly inside.

“Not here? What do you mean not here?”

“Exactly what I just said.” Her voice was more firm this time. Good. She needed to at least appear confident, even if inside she was a panicked mess of jelly. She jerked her head in the direction of her apartment. “I’ll tell you everything. Just not here.”

“So you expect me to just take off down the street after you? I don’t even know your name!”

“And I don’t know yours. Come or don’t. But if you want answers you’ll come with me.” Without waiting for him to respond she took off towards home. Part of her hoped that he wasn’t going to come along, but soon after she saw him fall into step beside her out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t outwardly show how uncomfortable she was, just kept going, busying herself with trying to remember his name. She was still trying to figure it all out as she turned into the apartment complex, heading for her building. She only stopped once she realized he wasn’t still with her. She turned back, staring expectantly at him until he spoke.

“Where are we?” he demanded. Kenneth! That was his name. Angelique just about stomped her foot in realization, but contained herself. She glanced at the stairs that led to her apartment.

“It used to be my home.”

“Used to be?” His voice rose with a spark of incredulity. “What is it now?” Angelique gave a shrug and began climbing the stairs.

“Vacant, I suppose.” She mused, giving a little half smile when he began following up behind her. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” She opened the door and moved inside, leaving it open behind her. She sat her laptop bag in one of the dining room chairs, turning back to face him as he shut and locked the door behind them. He flicked the light switch, then flicked it a few more times when the light didn’t come on after a beat.

“The electricity is off.” Angelique mused, not at all surprised by the lack of power. After all, she had no idea how long she’d been gone, but she did know her bill was due around the time of her death. The electric company was typically pretty punctual about cut off dates, immediate deaths notwithstanding. Kenneth turned sharply towards her.

“Forget to pay your bill? Too busy stalking people?” he spat the questions at her. Angelique still had no clue how to answer him. Should she tell a lie? Or the truth? How much of the truth? Finally, Angelique decided screw it. She would just be completely honest.

“Being dead, bills kind of get away from you.” She watched and waited while he comprehended what she said, his eyes flashing with confusion, comprehension, and then anger.

“Is this a joke?” he seethed.

“If it is it isn’t funny. And I’m still waiting for the punchline.” She answered flatly. He stared. She stared back. After a few moments, his eyes softened.

“You’re serious.” He said, eyes widening a little bit with surprise. “You genuinely think you’re dead.”

“I don’t think it. I know it.” There was no sorrow in Angelique’s tone. Only fact. She was proud of herself for not getting all choked up and emotional. No need to dwell on the facts, just a need to express them. She stepped towards him slowly, as if she were afraid he would bolt right out the door like a startled deer. She gave him a lot of credit when he neither flinched nor stepped back. She moved her hair away from her face.

“Can you see the scar?” She asked him. He nodded, his eyes darting across her forehead before jumping back to her eyes. She continued, her finger trailing gently across the puckered skin. “It’s a gunshot wound. Your brother shot me in the head and killed me.”

“He k---no. That’s impossible.” His eyes were wide and his breathing was shaky, and Angelique could almost feel his heart beat across the distance. She softened her stance and dropped her arms, her hair falling back across her face and naturally covering that scar.

“It’s not.” She kept her tone as gentle as she could. It’s not every day you find out your brother is a killer after all.

“Where is your proof?” he asked her shakily. That threw her off a bit. Wasn’t the scar enough?

“My what?”

“Your proof. You have a gnarly scar, sure. But that doesn’t make you dead. And if you are dead, it doesn’t mean my brother killed you.” The confidence was back in his tone, like he knew for sure she was either delusional or insane. Angelique fought the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation. She could not stop the snarky comment that spilled from her lips.

“You have got to be kidding.”

“Look,” Now his tone turned sympathetic, which made her bristle. “My guess here is you are an ex-girlfriend that he stole something from. Maybe he smacked you around a little.” That bristle of anger sparked into full blown outrage. What planet did this jerk live on?! She opened her mouth to correct him-or berate him, she wasn’t sure which at this point-but he continued on, so certain he had finally figured her out. That smug look on his face was going to get him hit one day.

“Hey. It’s ok. I get it. He stole quite a bit of money from me too. But he claims he’s turning over a new leaf, and that he’s not going to be that guy anymore. That’s why I was meeting him at the bank. If you tell me the truth about what happened, I’m certain I can get him to give you what he owes you too.” He moved past her and sat down at her table, staring back at her like he expected her to do the same. She did not. Instead, she turned and paced back and forth in front of the table like a cornered wildcat, her emotions racing but finally settling on anger.

“You think I’m crazy.” She hissed.

“I never said that.” He answered quickly, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Oh you didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face!” She leaned across the table in a manner that was more than a little intimidating to him. He leaned back in surprise. She continued, “How do you explain the info I have on your brother?”

“Must have hired a P.I.” he said with a shrug. She didn’t hold back the scoff this time. Angelique dug in her laptop bag and pulled out the file, all but tossing it at him. The sound of the paper sliding across the table was almost harsh as it echoed through the apartment.

“A P.I. got all of that? Really?” He flipped through the papers slowly. She noticed with an almost spiteful satisfaction that the confidence in his eyes was very slowly fading as doubt crept in.

“Must be a damn good P.I.” he mused, his eyes lingering on part of one of the pages. “What did you say your name was?” she hadn’t. Shaking her head she straightened back up.

“My name is Angelique Springdale.”

“No.” He shut the file and pushed it away with a head shake of his own. “You must have made that up, or added it into the file or something. To match the delusion that he killed you.” He tried to put the confidence back in his words but there was too much uncertainty, too much nervousness. Angelique mentally shrugged; she could work with that.

“Perhaps I did.” She said, pausing to let him grasp what she had said. She waited until he looked like he was relieved before she continued. “However, before I admit to that, I want you to do two things for me. In this order: call Scott and ask him about me, and then Google my name.” He looked skeptical, even as he reached for his phone in his pocket.

“You think this is going to prove something, do you?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“What do I say?” he asked, fingers poised to make a call. She thought for a moment. Did she want to be subtle, or dramatic? What would make Kenneth believe her more? She finally settled on something that was sure to freak Scott out.

“Tell him I’m after what he took from me.” She said. Kenneth nodded and hit a button, holding the phone up to his ear while it rang.

“Hey!” Kenneth greeted, followed by a muffled voice on the other end of the line. Scott. The hair on the back of her neck rose as a sensation of dread filled her, one that she couldn’t really understand. Yes the man killed her, but she was dead now. It wasn’t like he could kill her again. She was brought back to herself when Kenneth laughed.

“Oh no,” he was saying, laughter still in his tone. She guessed Scott was either late to their meeting, or was saying he had to cancel due to some sort of fictitious catastrophe. He continued after another pause. “Well that’s alright. I’m not at the bank now. I, uh, actually ran into someone I think knows you. I’ve been talking with her and I think you may owe her some money too.” More muffled speaking, this time a bit more rushed. But that patient smile never left Kenneth’s face. Angelique fought the urge to roll her eyes a bit.

“Well she didn’t say exactly, but she told me she was after what you took from her. Said her name is Angelique.” No sooner did her name fall from his lips did the muffled speaking grow louder and almost rushed. Frantic, even. That patient, calm smile on Kenneth’s face began to falter.

“Hey, man. I’m not…I knew I wasn’t the only one who…you need to calm down!” He stood to his feet, calm smile completely gone and replaced with a look of distress. Angelique took a seat to allow him space to pace, which he was beginning to do almost as though he was not aware of it. He attempted multiple times to say start a sentence, or to interrupt the frantic muffled voice that had only raised in volume but not really in clarity, but said voice did not give him any chance whatsoever to speak again. Finally he stopped pacing and after a harsh beep that muffled voice stopped, and he took the phone away from his head with a dazed glance at Angelique.

“He hung up on me.” Kenneth told her, his voice almost hollow. “He said you were gone. Or Angelique is gone. Dead. W-who are you?”

“Google my name.” she said instead. He didn’t argue, just unlocked the device and began searching. After a few moments he spoke.

“There’s an article about a shooting, another article about the shooting…a Facebook page.” His voice shook as he spoke about the shooting, but Angelique didn’t acknowledge it. He was going through a tough enough time as it was.

“Click on the Facebook page.” She told him. “You’ve already heard about the shooting.” He did as she asked. After a few moments, Angelique watched his face pale.

“This is too established to be fake. This is definitely you.” Finally. Angelique nodded.

“Yes.”

“So it’s true. You’re…”

“Dead. Yes.”

“And Scott?” Kenneth’s voice cracked now and a single tear trickled down his cheek. Angelique resisted the urge to reach out and comfort him and instead sat where she was, trying to keep her facial features as close to neutral as she could. “I’m so sorry.”

“This isn’t your crime to apologize for.” She assured him, allowing sympathy to enter her tone and to float in her eyes.

“How are you here?” he asked her. “Are you an angel?”

“Not exactly.” She answered with a slight wince. Then with a deep breath, she told him the entire story. Waking up dead, the devil, the deal. Everything up to the moment they ran into each other at the bank. By the time she had finished the story, he no longer looked like he was going to cry or puke, which Angelique found a massive relief. Instead he stood before her with a look of grim determination.

“So if you kill Scott, the devil will spare your soul?”

“That about sums it up.” She said with a nod and a half shrug. “Apparently, he’s going to end up down below no matter what I do. So if there’s a chance that this will save me, I’m taking it. No offense.” She held up her hands in surrender, realizing she was talking very crassly about killing this man’s brother, whom he was gung ho about saving just minutes before. Now, however, Kenneth didn’t look like he could care less. He nodded his head, taking a few deep breaths of his own.

“Ok. I’m in.” In? In what? Angelique blinked at him for a moment. His stare remained unwavering.

“What?” She finally had to ask for clarity.

“I’m in. I’m going to help you.” Oh, hell no. Angelique stood. He didn’t back down or away, just let her stand.

“Umm. No. This is not some sort of club you can join in like high school. Or a bad movie where the girl needs the guy to come in and save her. I didn’t ask for any assistance.”

“No you didn’t.” he agreed.

“Ok. So stay out of it.”

“Are you denying that you could use a hand?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She faltered. She couldn’t deny she had zero clue what she was doing. But she couldn’t help but wonder…

“Why you?” she asked aloud, ignoring his previously posed question. His eyes snapped to hers, and Angelique felt herself step back from the rage in his gaze

“Because I can’t let this go. Scott’s family, yeah, but that doesn’t make this ok. You don’t deserve to go to hell, and I’m going to do what I can to keep you out of it. Now sit back down. We need to come up with a plan.” So she took a deep breath. She definitely couldn’t deny she could use the help. So against her better judgement, she sat down so they could come up with a good plan.