The events of this story run parallelly to those in season 3, as I think I told you before, but this story has been pretty independent of season 3 so far. That changes with this chapter: Everything that happens from now on is in direct relation to the events from season 3. So I would say "Spoiler Alert", but I think it's a bit late for that.

Anyway. My fun with Google Maps almost went haywire in this chapter, but, well, I do want to keep it realistic enough, and never actually having been in the USA, I need to take what I can get. Now, I have no idea about the logistics of the Palmer Park in Madison, Alabama, or if it's even open to visitors on Sundays. I couldn't find any information on that on the internet. It's too late to change it now, and I apologize for any mistakes I might have made. Also I am not saying that abandoned cars with not-so-nice things in them are a regular occurence in Madison or anywhere else in Alabama.

And as in several chapters before, this one mentions an OC that ain't mine; Lewis Lennox and his story are property of TellatrixFoever, and TellatrixForever only. I am only using this OC for the purpose of this chapter.

WARNINGS: Drug use, and a corpse.

Enjoy!

The Penny in the Parking Lot: Part 1

The Understudy

Chapter 12

When Devil calmed down enough and the rain lessened so you could see where you were going again, he climbed into his truck and drove the rest of the way back to Nina. He had never in his life felt so tired and beat-down. His head was killing him, and he was sick to his stomach. Finally arriving, it was afternoon and still raining when Devil got out of his car and stumbled over to the apartment building, too tired to even pay attention to whether Nick was around. Felicity, the cat, was sitting next to the door, looking as soaked and worn-down as Devil felt. When he neared the door, Felicity started scratching at it, like she was trying to tell him to let her in, and Devil did open the door to her so she could slip in before he stepped inside himself.

When he arrived at Nina's floor, Felicity was already sitting in front of the correct apartment door, blinking at him impatiently. And when he got the door to Nina's flat open and saw her standing up from the couch to greet him, Devil was convinced he'd never been blessed with such a welcoming sight before.

Whatever it was that was showing on Devil's face, it couldn't be good, because he saw Nina's expression fall when she took a closer look at him.

"Devil?" she asked carefully. "Is… are you okay?"

In way of an answer, he took two quick steps to her and just locked her in as tight an embrace as he could without crushing her.

"I missed you" he mumbled into her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You're drenched to the bone, Devil, what the hell?"

He pressed his nose into her neck and breathed in. "Sorry" was all he said.

"It's… alright, Devil. It's alright."

Nina caught on that he needed some comfort now and hugged him back, tightly, one hand patting his damp hair. Devil didn't think he could let go of her for the time being. They stayed like that for several minutes, before Nina carefully untangled them and grabbed Devil's chin, not ungentle, to force him to look at her.

"Devil" she said clearly, "what happened?"

"I can't tell you" Devil said and frowned; not at her, but at himself and this fucked up situation.

"Tell me what you can tell me, then, babe. Come on, there's gotta be somethin' you can say. You've been distant lately. What the fuck happened to you?"

"I… I did somethin'" Devil said. "An' I didn't wanna, but I had to. An' I don't wanna do it again." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I know I was strange the last couple days. I dunno why it fucked me up like it did, but you… you're awesome, you know. You're the best thing that's happened to me in quite some time, an' everythin' I do is the same with you there, just… better."

"Devil" Nina said, grinning at him, "is that your fucked up way of asking me if I wanna be your girlfriend?"

"And what if it is?"

"Then I say yes."

"You do?"

"Sure, Devil." She kissed him, curtly. "But this, whatever you did, you're gonna have to tell me, eventually. Whatever it was, I… I'm pretty sure I can deal with it. I ain't big on the judgmental shit. I like you, really, I do. But that you can't tell me anythin' about your day, it sucks and I hate that."

"It's for your own protection, an' mine, too."

Nina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I get that. But it still sucks, and you know it."

"That ain't the only thing that seriously sucks, girl." Devil pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed, the day wearing down on him even more. "But I guess you got a point."

"I always do. Now, you're drenched and exhausted and we need to get you out of those clothes."

Devil gave her a tired smirk. "I'm 'fraid I ain't gon' be able to get anythin' up right now."

"I know that, jerk. You need to sleep. Come on now, before you pass out. I ain't carryin' you into the bedroom."

Felicity, who'd observed the whole scene from where she sat next to the kitchen door, made a quiet cooing noise and stood up when they neared her.

"Someone's hungry" Devil said, walking past the kitchen to throw his wet clothes into the laundry basket in the bathroom.

"I'll give her somethin', you jus' worry bout gettin' into bed" Nina said and entered the kitchen, grabbing a can of cat food. Devil left the bathroom door open while getting undressed, and he listened to the sounds from the kitchen, the scraping of metal against metal when Nina opened the can, another quiet cooing noise from Felicity, then a clang of porcelain against the floor tiles when Nina sat Felicity's bowl onto the floor. Low words of encouragement from Nina when Felicity started gobbling down the food. It all sounded so much like home.

When Devil arrived at his boxers who were drenched as well, he took them off and then scuffled over to the bedroom. Nina raised a brow when she saw him in all his naked glory.

"I thought you said you wouldn't get anythin' up now?"

"I won't. Boxers were wet, too, an' I'm too lazy to put on a clean pair."

Devil threw himself on the bed and just stayed there, eyes closed. He heard Nina come in and sigh, then felt her wrestle the blanket out from under him and cover him with it. The bed dipped a little when she climbed onto the mattress next to him.

"Sleep, will you?" she said and grabbed a book. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Devil actually slept an entire eleven hours, and when he woke up, the next morning had arrived, and Nina was sleeping soundly next to him. For a second he thought that she'd have to get up to go to work soon, but it was Saturday. He laid there for a few more minutes, but now he was wide awake, so he stood up quietly so as to not wake Nina (who was officially his girlfriend now, which was kinda crazy) and brewed himself some coffee. It was barely five in the morning, so there wasn't much to do; Devil showered and walked downstairs to check if Felicity wanted inside, which she did. Rubbing her little striped head on his ankle shortly, she galloped up the stairs.

Devil looked up and down the street for a quick check, but it was really early and Nick wasn't there. With a second coffee and Felicity on his lap, Devil eventually sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, and somehow he landed on a re-run of Jersey Shore, watching all those ugly-as-fuck chicks with their fake tans without actually seeing them. The shit that had happened yesterday, Devil still couldn't believe what he'd thought and what he'd said to Nina, practically pouring his heart out to her (or as close to it as he was ever going to get). It was weird, but he felt so much better now, so well-rested and satisfied. He'd figured out why the Norwegians had bothered him so much and why Granger hadn't, and he'd figured out he didn't want to be that person, and that he wouldn't kill anybody for Duffy or Quarles ever again. It felt so good t have that settled, it was such a relief.

A few hours later Nina got up and wished him and Felicity a wonderful morning. Devil thought that indeed it was. Deeming it an adequate time for a phone call now, he dialed Boyd, but the line didn't get picked up. Devil tried three more times, just in case Boyd wasn't up yet, although it seemed unlikely, because Boyd had always been an early riser, cooking his bacon with cinnamon and making coffee strong enough to wake the dead. Devil thought about calling Ava to ask why Boyd didn't pick up his phone, but just as he was about to do it, Keegan called him and asked if he wanted to come over later, because Keegan wanted to show him some new music, and Devil thought that he could still call Ava tonight, or try Boyd's cell again.

"So where's this from again?" Devil asked and passed the joint back to Keegan while listening to the music.

"Austria" Keegan answered and blew out a perfectly shaped smoke ring.

They were lying on the floor in Keegan's CAG flat, feet propped up on the couch, passing a joint back and forth while listening to a really relaxing draft of electronic music that Keegan had cranked up so load it had to be heard by passengers on the street. But it was good, really good, and Devil liked it. He would have never thought to be a fan of electronic music. But Keegan knew his shit about that genre.

"What's it called?"

"Ah, man, it's all in German, how would I know? The band's name starts with K, that's all I can tell you."

"Anyway, I like it."

"Glad to hear. Hey, take it, for sec" he passed Devil the joint back and scrambled to stand up and put another CD in the player. "Since you's always goin' on about how techno ain't got no soul, I'mma prove you wrong now. Check that out."

Devil took a deep drag, so deep his lungs started to burn, and released the smoke in a slow daze as it went straight to his head. The music started and he frowned. "Sounds boring, man."

"Just wait for it" Keegan said, "at about three minutes it really starts to pick up."

"Why in the hell would I listen to this bullshit and wait for the third minute to roll around, when I can listen to somethin' else that picks up in the very first fuckin' second?"

"Cause it's worth it, man, just wait for it."

Keegan cranked the volume even higher and planted himself on the floor next to Devil again, reaching a hand out for the joint. Then the music suddenly became slower, and the beat lessened, and Keegan tapped him on the arm. "Now, LISTEN."

And listen Devil did.

"Shit" he murmured. "That's awesome."

He closed his eyes and all he saw was the ocean, how he remembered it from his vacation to Myrtle Beach when he'd been a kid. He felt like he was being carried away by the music now, and it felt fucking amazing. But maybe it was just the weed.

Devil and Keegan simultaneously opened their eyes when they heard a door slam shut, and there Tanner stood, looking at them like they were crazy.

"The hell you doin'?!" He had to shout over the music.

"Shhh, this part is really good!" Keegan shouted back. Tanner rolled his eyes and walked over to the CD player pressing PAUSE. The music stopped abruptly. Keegan sat up with a frown. "Hey! We were listenin' to that."

"So I heard, along with the rest of Frankfort, man" Tanner shot back.

"Hey man, ain't seen you in some time" Devil said and waved at him a little. It had to have looked a bit funny because Tanner stared at them and asked, "How much did you smoke?"

"I dunno" Devil frowned and looked to Keegan for help. "How much did we smoke, man?"

"I dunno" Keegan answered. "How much?"

"Too much, maybe" Tanner said and took the joint from Devil's fingers. He took a drag himself and raised his brows, coughing a little. "Jesus, Keegan, who sold you this shit?"

"Some guy with a beard, he was wearin' a funny hat…"

Keegan and Devil dissolved into fits of giggles. Tanner sighed and put the joint out. "No more weed for the two of you."

"I'm hungry" Keegan said and stood up. Devil looked at Tanner and finally understood that it wasn't a normal occurrence for him to stand there in the middle of the CAG flat, in Frankfort.

"Hey" he said, "the hell you doin' here? I thought you had shit to do in Harlan."

"Yeah, well" Tanner stated, "and I thought you had shit to do here, but turns out you're just busy gettin' high and listenin' to music."

"I would have shit to do, but I ain't seen Quarles in like two weeks. And it's Saturday."

Devil sat up and stretched.

"Anyway" Tanner said and slumped down on the sofa, looking at Devil. "Shit's goin' on in Harlan, and I may have messed up a bit here and there, and now I'm just here lookin' for people, you know, makin' visits and shit."

"Whatever, man. It's just nice to see you." Devil blinked. "What shit, though? How'd you mess up?"

"Well, see, Crowder's been arrested-"

"What?"

"He's been arrested for blowin' up the Sherriff's car-"

"Boyd blew up Napier's car?"

"Would you let me finish, brother. Jesus. Crowder got arrested for blowin' up Napier's car, but he didn't do it, I did. We just needed Crowder out the way for the Sherriff's election. Can you believe it, Crowder's supportin' Shelby, good ol' Shelby from the mines, as a candidate 'gainst Napier. But because I didn't wait long enough to set off the charges for Napier's tastes, the bastard don't wanna pay me. Man, I hate that slimey dick."

Devil scrambled to follow Tanner's declarations. Well, if Boyd was in jail, it certainly explained why he couldn't answer Devil's calls. Shit. Boyd hadn't done it, was actually innocent for once, but what good did it do him if he was up against the goddamn Sherriff himself? And Devil was stuck in fucking Frankfort, of all places, and couldn't do shit about it. But maybe, Devil thought, Boyd's Marshal friend would help him. Devil could never understand whether they were friends or enemies when they met. Givens always said how he disliked Boyd, but he put up with Boyd's shit with a patience that usually only Ava and Johnny possessed. And Boyd, he always greeted the Marshal with open arms and a big smile that was never entirely honest, but always genuine, if that even made sense. Boyd could pull that off. And the Marshal put up with it. Devil didn't get it.

He was still seriously considering calling Ava tonight, to hear what was going on down there. Before he'd left their relationship had been quite tense, but the way Tanner had described it, it all sounded rather one-dimensional, and Devil was aware that he couldn't ask too many questions because, as his fogged up brain recalled, he was supposed to hate Boyd now. Asking how he was didn't contribute much in the matter of keeping up that façade.

Tanner didn't stay long, but him and Devil chatted a bit about old times and did end up sharing the strong weed that Keegan had procured somewhere, while Keegan himself had come up with the idea of cooking a feast and stayed in the kitchen for an entire three hours. When Tanner left, he put a hand on Devil's shoulder and said, "It was good to see you, brother. I'm really glad you're doin' okay here."

"Good to see you, too" Devil said and then, for some reason he couldn't fathom, felt compelled to add, "Watch yourself, huh?"

Tanner shrugged. "I'm doin' my best."

Devil had a notion it might not be enough.

Wynn Duffy sent him a text early the next day and told him to meet him at the pet store, with a full tank and ready for a trip. Devil didn't think it would be a joyous one, but he went anyway. He just hoped it would be over quick, because he didn't feel all that great and actually just wanted to stay in bed (Nina's bed, to be exact) all day and be lazy.

When Devil drove onto the huge parking lot next to the Walmart Supercenter, he didn't even get the chance to start looking for a space because Wynn Duffy and his bodyguard Mike just hopped into his truck (Duffy in the passenger's seat, Mike in the back) without asking.

"Good morning, Mr. Devil!" Wynn Duffy said with a cheer that seemed entirely inappropriate for Devil. It was barely 9 am, and Devil had a headache, and he was pissed.

"So what the hell's goin' on, huh?" he said in stead of a greeting. "Where are we goin', and why?"

"Well, someone's in a mood today" Duffy said. "We're having a little road trip today, actually, and our destination will be the Palmer Park in Madison."

"Madison…?"

"Madison, Alabama."

"What!" Devil couldn't believe it. "You honestly want me to drive to fuckin' Alabama, now?"

"Now's good a time as any, Mr. Devil, don't you think? The weather is beautiful, and I have to pick something up down there. It's only a five-hour-drive, you think your car can manage that?"

"What the hell do you need to pick up in a sports park in Alabama, man?"

"You'll see when we get there, 'man'. Now, drive. Come on, we don't have all day."

"Apparently we do, because it's gonna take all fuckin' day" Devil argued, and Duffy waved a hand at him.

"It's just a saying. Drive, for God's sake!"

Devil obeyed with a deep-set frown and a sigh. His headache got worse, and he just knew this day was going to suck, majorly.

Wynn Duffy was right about one thing, though: The weather really was perfect. It was sunny, but not too hot, and there was a comfortable breeze blowing. Devil watched a few lone clouds being carried away by the wind as he pulled onto Lawrenceburg Road. The pleasant climate did nothing to brighten his mood. Now he'd be stuck on the road all damn day with Wynn Duffy and his henchman instead of chilling at home with Nina. And then he tripped over the fact that he'd just called Nina's flat "home", because he'd just moved in there, and more importantly, because it was a place in Frankfort, and Frankfort, no matter how long he'd been there (which ran up to two months now), would never, should never, COULD never be "home" to him, because he hated it and didn't belong here. Devil wasn't in Frankfort because he wanted to be here, but because he had to. That couldn't just change.

Wynn Duffy made a few failed attempts at conversation, then turned on the CD player, which ended up with Prodigy (who Devil had taken a serious liking to) blasting out of the speakers, and Duffy jerking back in surprise.

"What the hell are you listening to?" he asked disgustedly. Devil shrugged.

"Prodigy. I like it."

"Jesus Christ" Duffy murmured and switched to radio, choosing a channel that played popular music. The volume turned on low, it was a kind of comforting background noise, and they drifted into silence again, until they crossed the border to Tennessee. When they passed the Welcome Station, the radio started acting up, bursting in and out of static. Wynn Duffy started turning buttons, even tried to turn it off. Devil almost told him not to bother, but it was kinda funny to watch Duffy fiddle with it to no avail, getting quite frustrated in the process.

At some point, though, the static started hurting Devil's head, and he wished for silence. Duffy let up at some point.

"What the hell's wrong with your radio, Mr. Devil?" he asked.

"Nothin'" Devil just answered and tried to concentrate on the road. After another fifteen minutes of that treatment he rolled his eyes, seriously getting fed up with it.

"Lewis, knock it off!" he yelled, punching the dashboard. The radio lapsed into momentary silence.

"You named your car Lewis?" Duffy asked, raising a brow.

"No."

"Then who's Lewis?"

"Cousin."

"You have a cousin named Lewis?"

"I did. S'an Army Ranger, then Delta Force."

"So you named your car after your cousin? How moving."

"The truck ain't got no name."

"Then why'd you call it Lewis?"

"I didn't call it Lewis." Devil rolled his eyes.

"But you just said to the radio, 'knock it off, Lewis'."

"I's talkin' to Lewis."

"Your cousin Lewis" Wynn Duffy clarified.

"Yeah."

"And he's here?"

"Not quite."

"Well, where is he, if you're talkin' to him?" Duffy started sounding impatient.

"He's dead."

"Oh. I'm… sorry to hear."

"Died in this truck." The radio started acting up again.

"Jesus" Mike murmured from the back seat.

"Oooooookay" Wynn Duffy said slowly. "And now he's… haunting the car."

"It's complicated" Devil sighed, turning the radio off. It stayed silent for about three seconds before turning itself on again. Devil gave a shake of the head in resignation, and Duffy didn't touch anything in the truck for the rest of the drive. They passed through an area of Tennessee in direct follow-up to the conversation about Lewis that seemed to consist entirely of cemeteries, and that didn't help any to settle Duffy and Mike's unease.

After an excruciating 5 and a half hours, they finally arrived at the Palmer Park in Madison. Making a right turn from Palmer Road, Devil's truck entered the park grounds, and they passed the batting cages that were currently occupied only by three persons, two of whom appeared to be kids.

"Alright now" Devil said, halting at the first gateway that led to the UpperQuad baseball fields. "Where to?"

"Further, you need to drive further" Duffy said, checking something on his phone. "The, uh... shit, everything's upside down on this map. The… International Field 6, that's where we wanna be. I think it's for soccer."

"Yeah, well, that ain't hardly helpful."

"The parking lot behind the International Field 6, that's where we need to go. Just drive further into the park, right to the other end of it."

Devil complied and drove through the park at a slow pace. There were a lot of great parking lots, all only scarcely occupied. The baseball and soccer fields they drove by were almost completely deserted; the football field seemed to be the place where most of the action took place today. Devil drove around the spacious parking lot attached to the field and passed a small kiddie playground, and then there were only two ways to go: Drive further ahead and land in the middle of the LowerQuad baseball fields, or turn right. Devil opted for door number two and made a right turn, and Duffy didn't correct him.

It landed them in that part of Palmer Park that was completely and utterly deserted. Not one living human being was here. They could hear shouts from the football field echo in the distance, but other than that, there was only the occasional tweet of a bird and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. The parking lot Devil's truck rolled onto was the smallest, and it was empty, save for one lone car.

It was a Ford Mustang GT, as far as Devil could tell, and of a dark color, but it was covered in so much reddish dust from the baseball fields that it had to have stood here for quite some time. Devil wondered what the hell they were doing here. He was about to ask Duffy whether they'd taken a wrong turn somewhere, but Duffy beat him to it.

"And here we are" he said and opened the passenger's side door before Devil had shut off the engine. Him and Mike followed Duffy as he walked to the Mustang, a hopelessly ugly car, as far as Devil was concerned. This one was old, too, and beat up and dirty, and the rear screen had a big crack going through it, almost from one side to the other. One front tire looked a little deflated. And it smelled bad. All things considered, Devil thought, this was one big pile of shit.

"Please tell me we didn't drive all the fuckin' way here just to pick up this piece of shit" he said, and Wynn Duffy shook his head.

"No, no, that's not what we're here for. What I want to pick up is not the car. It's in the car."

"Huh?"

"It's inside the car" Duffy explained. "In the trunk, if I'm not mistaken. A suit case."

Another goddamn suit case, Devil thought.

"So." Wynn Duffy looked to Devil. "Open the trunk, please."

"Hell nah" Devil said and took a step back. "I ain't openin' the trunk."

"And why the hell not?"

"You seen 'The Hangover'? I don't want no Chinaman's balls in my face."

"Oh, for Christ's sake" Duffy muttered and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Mike, open it."

Mike pulled a face. "And what if there's actually a naked guy in there who's gonna jump in my face?"

"Then I'll take a picture. Now, open it, for God's sake!"

Mike the bodyguard didn't look too happy with his job, but he stepped up to the trunk and put his hands on it nonetheless. For a moment they all seemed to listen closely to any possible noises from the trunk, just in case there was actually someone in there. It was an abandoned car in the middle of nowhere and connected to criminal machinations of the Dixie Mafia; in Devil's opinion it wasn't even that far-fetched. The smell was terrible, also, rotten and decayed. Maybe there HAD been someone in the trunk, and they were dead now?

Mike took a deep breath and then just popped the trunk open, and a wave of the disgusting stench engulfed him for a few seconds, but all there was in it was, in fact, a suit case. It wasn't a small black business one, like the one Devil and Funny had delivered to Arthur Herk, either, it was a bigger one, brown and relatively new, for travelling. Mike lifted it out of the trunk, and it seemed to be quite heavy.

"Well, there we go" Wynn Duffy said and nodded. "That's about it, I guess we can go now."

"What. That was it?" Devil snorted. "You serious? I drive through all of Kentucky and Tennessee, to this shithole of a park, waste masses of time and gas, just so you can pick up one lone fuckin' suit case out of the trunk of a Mustang that smells like rotting corpses?"

"Yes, I am serious, Mr. Devil. Now get in the car, and we'll be home for dinner."

"It does smell pretty bad" Mike said. Devil walked around the car and peered through the grimy window into the back seat. He couldn't see anything, the layer of dust was too thick, and the glass was almost foggy with it. Trying the handle of the front door, it opened – and Devil stumbled back, almost tripping over himself when he saw the source of the smell lying in the back seat.

"Holy fuckin' shit" he rasped out, covering mouth and nose with an arm. There was a body in there, it had to have been laying there so long it was hardly recognizable as human now. Duffy looked into the car, as well, a napkin held to his face to stop the worst of the smell, and he frowned.

"Well, well, well" he said lowly. "That was not part of the agreement." Duffy righted himself and looked at Devil who was trying really hard not to vomit from the smell.

"I think we need to leave right now, Mr. Devil" he said seriously. "Come on, into the car. Mike, wipe your prints off the trunk, and Mr. Devil's prints off the door. Hurry."

Devil climbed into his truck, still gagging as he started up the engine. He'd never experienced such a strong stench of decay. The body had looked like one of those dried-out, dug-up corpses they showed on "Forensic Files" sometimes. Devil had never seen anything like it with his own eyes, and he wished now he hadn't had to. Stupid him just had to go and open the fucking door to see where the smell came from.

Mike hopped into the back seat then and Duffy told him to step on it. The radio stayed quiet now, and Devil had the inkling that maybe Lewis hadn't meant to be annoying, but had just tried to warn him. Not that it worked, but Devil still appreciated the sentiment.

I know there's not THAT much going on in this chapter, and (Spoiler Alert) it won't change much in the next one, but they're still very important for the plot.

I do love "The Hangover" with all my heart, and that scene where Ken Jeong jumps out of the trunk naked and directly into Bradley Cooper's face is one of the most epic scenes of the movie, and one of the most famous "WTF?"-moments in movie history. I just had to mention it somehwere.

The second song Keegan and Devil listen to, the one that only picks up at minute 3, is "Saltwater" by Chicane. It's absolutely amazing. The first one is "Sonnentanz" by Klangkarussel, also really amazing, but of course it didn't exist yet when this story happened... so bear with me. Shit happens, and the music is awesome.

And on another note, my internship is cool, and I've discovered that Joel McHale is not only hilarious, but also looks ravishing in aviators. Oh well. What else is new?