"I got this for Christmas, but I already have one," I said, pulling out the opened iPod box and setting it in front of the clerk. I didn't already have one, but for some reason I figured it would sound better if I did. I really needed this to work.
"Can I exchange it for store credit?"
The clerk picked it up and opened the side. "It's already been opened," he said.
"My mom did that," I said, piling on the lies. "She didn't know about your policy. But it's completely unused—she turned it on once, for ten seconds, and that was it. Can I still exchange it?"
"Do you have a receipt?"
"I'm afraid not," I said, "it was a gift." I stood still and watched him, willing him to say yes. Finally he scanned it at his register and looked at the display.
"I'll give you partial credit for it," he said. "Do you want a gift card?"
"That's okay," I said quickly, "I'll just grab something now and bring it up."
The clerk nodded, and I drifted back toward the GPS systems. This was going to work. I was positive I could kill Crowley this way—just distract him long enough to stop him from regenerating, and he'd die. I'd already watched his body almost fail him once, and I was certain it could happen again.
And I knew the perfect way to distract him: his third weakness. Love. He'd do anything for his wife—I'd even seen him answer the phone in the middle of an attack to talk to her. If he got another call, and something on that phone convinced him his wife was in immediate danger, he'd drop whatever he was doing and run.
And with the right preparation, I could'send him some very convincing evidence.
Finally I found what I was looking for: a GPS tracker, paired with a handset to tell you exactly where the tracker was at all times. I checked the price, took it to the front, and set it on the counter.
The clerk looked at it oddly, perhaps wondering why a teenage boy would trade a cool iPod for a boring GPS set, but shrugged and rang it up.
"Thanks," I said, and walked back outside. I felt disturbingly eager now that I had a plan. I wanted to rush back right then and start my attack, but I knew I had to wait. I needed some way of hiding the evidence of everything I was going to do, so the police would never link it back to me. And when the time came, I had to make the threat to his wife flawlessly believable.
It would be hard to pull off.
But if it worked, the demon would be dead.
17
Sunday morning I approached the demon directly, in the guise of kind-hearted John Wayne Cleaver, and asked if there were any chores I could do. It hadn't snowed in a while, though the banks were still piled high on the sides of the road, and so my usual snow shoveling had ceased. I told him I was working on my home-repair merit badge, and showed him the list of repairs I needed to work on, and we spent the day roving through his house, fixing leaky faucets and touching up the paint on his walls. I made sure to oil the hinges of his bedroom door—that would come in handy. He was jovial the whole time, but I watched him carefully, and I could tell he was sick. His lungs again, maybe, or his heart. It had barely been a week, but he was dying again. He'd kill again soon.
There were a handful of car-related items on the merit badge list, and though his car wasn't having any problems, he was delighted to let me change the oil and practice putting on the spare tire. It was too cold for him to stay out with me long, however, and eventually he retreated inside to sit in a warm chair and clutch his chest. I took the opportunity to hide my GPS tracker under one of the seats, tightly taped to keep it from rattling around. The batteries were supposed to last nearly a month, but I guessed he might go hunting that very night. I tested it when I got home, pulling out my handset and zeroing in on the car's signal. The map wasn't incredibly detailed, but it was enough to get by. His car showed up as an arrow. Kay made a trip to the pharmacy that afternoon, and I watched the flashing arrow pull into the street, drive to the center of town, and enter the pharmacy parking lot. I saw every turn, and watched as it waited for each traffic light and paused at each stop sign. It was awesome.
Before she came back, I sneaked into their backyard and climbed up the rear wall, clinging carefully to the bricks. This was the time for the demon's nap, and I listened to ensure that he was asleep. His breathing was regular, but punctuated by gasps and wheezes. He was getting worse. I taped a note to his window, and climbed down, disappearing via the carefully shoveled walks without leaving a single footprint.
NOT LONG NOW