Ebon Moon

  “No need.” He chuckled. “I’m honored.”

  “Maybe this is a mistake. Now that my daughter has embarrassed the hell out of both of us, I should go.” She grabbed Megan by the hand. “Come on, baby.”

  “Don’t leave.” The sheriff reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “Please stay.”

  All resistance evaporated instantly, and she settled back down in the booth.

  “Okay,” she said in a weak voice.

  “Let’s start over.” He removed his hand and held it out for a shake. “My name is Dale and I would enjoy you and your lovely daughter’s company for lunch.”

  She took the offered handshake. “I’m Jess and I accept.”

  He smiled. “You’re in for a treat. Dottie’s has the best lunch in the county. I suggest the grilled ham sandwich with fried okra.”

  “Between this and Nelda’s cooking, I’ve probably gained five pounds since moving to Hope Springs.”

  “It certainly doesn’t show.”

  “Thanks.” Her face flushed again.

  They gave their order to a pudgy waitress with dyed red hair. He introduced her as Dottie, and the woman shot her a cool glare. Jessica concluded Nelda was right. Other women in Hope Springs had their sights set on the sheriff.

  While waiting for the meal, they engaged in sporadic small talk about the town, weather, and local events. Jessica got the impression they were talking about everything but what they really wanted to discuss. Each had questions to ask the other but didn’t know how to approach the subject. During the wait, Megan concentrated on her coloring book and remained quiet.

  The food arrived and they ate in an awkward silence. Jessica turned her attention to the ham sandwich and fried okra, a delicacy she had never heard of before coming to Oklahoma. Nelda had fixed her a big breakfast, so she just picked at her plate. Megan, however, devoured her two chicken strips and a cup of corn before returning to coloring. Finally, Sheriff Sutton looked at her over his cheeseburger. Their eyes met for a second.

  “So what are you, Jess?” He glanced down at the ring on her finger. “Married? Divorced? Widowed?”

  Jessica sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated.” He picked up a french fry and looked at her again. “How complicated?”

  “I’m separated. My husband was an abusive asshole. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “Sound’s fair.”

  “What about you? In a relationship? Married? Divorced?”

  “None of the above.”

  “Why is that? There are at least six women in this place who are jealous of me sitting here with you.”

  “And every man wishes you were sitting with them.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m not from Hope Springs. I transferred here about two years ago and took the sheriff post. Small-town girls are nice and all, but I’m looking for someone with a little more depth and edge to them.”

  “I don’t mean to be abrupt, but I don’t like playing head games. I went through that with my marriage. What is it you want with me and my daughter?”

  “Right to the point. I like that.” He reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. “You’re very attractive, Jess. I want to get to know you better.”

  His touch sent her heart racing. It took all of her willpower to slowly pull her hand back. “I’m a battered wife with a five-year-old daughter. That’s a lot of baggage for a single man unaccustomed to a long-term relationship to handle.”

  “Understood.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. I find you very attractive, Dale, but what I need from a man is something supportive for me and my daughter. My inability in the past to find a good one has left me nothing but heartbreak. I don’t know you yet. Let’s just start at friends and see if anything else develops. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” He returned to his plate and finished his meal.

  Surprised at her strength in resisting his first advance, Jessica glanced over at her daughter. Intent on coloring a picture of Jesus preaching the Sermon on the Mount, Megan’s tongue stuck out between her lips as she concentrated on staying in the lines with the crayon.

  I have to think of her now and what is best for the two of us.

  “Excuse me, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt your lunch.”

  Jessica glanced up. A husky middle-aged man now stood beside the table with a stained ball cap in his hands.

  “What is it, Ernie?” Sheriff Sutton wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  “It’s Elmer Grosslin up on Route 23. He showed up on my farm talking all excited and ranting about Bigfoot killing one of his cows last night. Says he’s got proof this time. Wants you to come out and see him real bad. He doesn’t have a phone so I told him if I saw you, I’d tell you. Can you swing by and pay a visit?”

  “Okay, Ernie, I’ll drop by this afternoon.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  The man nodded politely to her before leaving.

  “What was that about?” Jessica asked.

  “Elmer Grosslin is a crazy old coot who lives by himself out in the country. He’s always thinking that UFOs and the CIA are trying to abduct him. I get a call out to his farm every couple of months. I hate going out to speak to him because he’s covered in lice.”

  “He’s not the one responsible for all those signs I saw yesterday along highway 133?”

  “No. That’s Jasper Higgins. I arrested him for the murder of his wife a couple of years back just after I became sheriff. He claims the devil stole her away in the middle of the night. The guy thinks he can convince others he’s innocent by putting up all those signs. He’s guilty as hell, though. The only reason he hasn’t gone to prison yet is because they haven’t found his wife’s body. County DA is attempting to put a circumstantial case against him. It’s just a matter of time.” He chuckled again. “Old man Grosslin is the kind of crazy who ends up wearing a tinfoil cap. Sometimes I think there’s something in the local water supply that breeds nutcases in this county.”

  “Remind me to drink bottled water,” Jessica replied.

  “Either that or get fitted for a tinfoil hat.”

  They laughed together, and the tension hanging between them vaporized.

  Megan looked up from her coloring book. “Mommy, you’re laughing.”

  “Yes, baby.”

  Megan hugged her. “I like that.”

  “I do, too.” Jessica said to the sheriff, “I guess she hasn’t heard me laugh in a while.”

  “I’m glad to be of service,” he replied with a wink.

  She released Megan. “Keep coloring your pretty picture, baby. I’m going to talk to the sheriff for a bit.”

  “Okay,” she replied, picking up a crayon.

  Jessica smiled. “Thanks for a lovely lunch, Dale.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine. I enjoyed sharing lunch with the two prettiest girls in town.”

  “Anyway, it was fun.”

  “We’ll have to do it again sometime.” He leaned back against his seat. “So you’re starting work at Roxie’s tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah, I need the money.”

  “Well, would you like to go out there tonight? They’re open and they shouldn’t be too busy. Just a friendly outing, nothing more. Drink a couple of beers and get to know the bar before you start working there.”

  “I’ve got Megan. I don’t think I can go.”

  “I understand.” He stood and picked the ticket up from the table. “It was just an idea.”

  She exhaled. “Write down your phone number and if I can find someone to watch Megan, I’ll give you a call. How does that sound?”

  “Good enough.” He scribbled the number on a napkin and slid it across the table. “I’m off duty after six. If you can make it, come out.”

  “Look, Mommy, all done,” Megan announced and held up her coloring book. The picture showed Jesus standing on a mountaintop with arms outspread over the heads of a crowd of people. Megan h
ad colored the Messiah’s skin a bright orange.

  “Pretty,” Jessica said. “Grab your book and crayons. We’re leaving.”

  They followed the sheriff out of the diner to the sidewalk.

  He shifted his gun belt and stated, “I think I ate too much, but I enjoyed every minute of it.”

  “We did, too.”

  He stepped closer to her and their eyes locked. For a frightening second she thought he was going to kiss her. Not here. Not in front of everyone watching through the windows of the diner. Not now.

  Instead he put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a friendly hug. Jessica breathed in the man’s aroma, which caused her heart to race.

  What kind of cologne is he wearing?

  “If you want to go out tonight, call me.” He released her. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” Her head felt giddy as if she was speaking in a dream.

  He bent down and shook Megan’s hand. “You be a good little girl for your mother.”

  Megan suddenly reached up and hugged the sheriff around his neck. The move surprised Jessica. She had never seen Megan do the same with her own father. “Good-bye,” Megan said.

  “You’re a sweet girl,” he replied awkwardly. He pulled back from her daughter and said, “Talk to you later.”

  They both watched in silence as he walked back to his patrol car.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sheriff Sutton drove down the country road leading to the Grosslin farm on Route 23. A trail of red dust kicked up by the tires hung in the still air behind the vehicle. A couple of miles from the farm, he radioed in and told Wanda, his dispatcher, he was paying a visit to Elmer Grosslin’s place.

  “What’s the nature of the visit?” Wanda asked.

  “One of his cows got killed last night.”

  She chuckled over the speaker. “Knowing that crazy coot, he’s probably going to tell you aliens did it.”

  “You’re close. He claims Bigfoot’s responsible.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I’ll call you when I get done with him.”

  “Roger, Sheriff.”

  Grosslin’s farm came into view, and he slowed the vehicle. The place consisted of a run-down farmhouse and dilapidated barn missing much of its roof. High weeds grew around the junk trucks and cars littering the front yard. The place lacked running water or electricity. Turning the car into the open front gate of the fence, the tires bumped over a rusted cattle guard before coming to a stop in the middle of the yard. The cloud of red dust followed him into the lot.

  The front door of the house burst open and Elmer Grosslin came out on the rickety porch. The old hermit had unruly gray hair, a dirty beard, and worn overalls slick from grime. He squinted toward the patrol car and swung up a double-barreled shotgun.

  “Is that you, Sheriff?” he called out.

  Sheriff Sutton unclasped his pistol and buzzed down the driver window. “It’s me, Elmer. Put down the gun.”

  “My eyes ain’t as good as they once was. Step out of the car so I can see you.”

  He opened the door and slid out with his hand still on the pistol at his hip. “Put down the gun, Elmer.”

  He squinted. “Okay, I see it’s you, Sheriff.” Lowering the shotgun, he added, “You can’t be too careful these days. Damn CIA sends spies to watch me all the time.”

  Sheriff Sutton shut the door to the patrol car. “I heard you got a problem out here, Elmer?”

  The old man spat tobacco into the dirt off the porch. A stream of spittle remained in his dirty beard. “It got my cow last night. Butchered it and ate it alive.”

  “Who did?”

  “Bigfoot, that’s who.” Elmer spat another stream of tobacco. “Poor Lisa’s tore to shreds.”

  “Lisa?”

  “My cow.” Elmer’s eyes looked like they were about to weep. “My beautiful cow.”

  “Show me where.”

  “Come with me, Sheriff.” Elmer stepped off the porch with the shotgun carried in the crook of his arm. “She’s out back.”

  Sheriff Sutton followed him around the house. The body odor coming from the old man caused him to breathe through his mouth. They reached the backyard where the rotten smell of death competed with Elmer’s stench. Ahead in the tall grass, the legs of a dead cow stuck up toward the sky.

  “It’s not a pretty sight, Sheriff.” Elmer nodded toward the body. “Damn Bigfoot tore her to pieces.”

  Flies buzzed when they walked up on the kill site. The cow lay ripped open with organs spilled out and scattered about in bloody sinewy strips around the carcass. Huge bite marks, visible on the throat and neck, left gaping holes in the flesh.

  “Look what that bastard did to my Lisa.” Elmer shifted the shotgun to wipe a tear from his cheek.

  “How do you know it was Bigfoot, Elmer?” Sheriff Sutton crouched to inspect the body closer. “It could have been coyotes or a mountain lion.”

  “Coyotes didn’t do that, and there ain’t been no mountain lion in these parts for fifty years.”

  “Tell me what happened.” Sheriff Sutton stood again.

  “I heard a commotion last night. Lisa was bawling like a young calf. I run out of the house with my shotgun and lantern and come upon the monster. It was right there ripping apart my Lisa with its fangs.”

  “I never heard of Bigfoot having fangs or eating a cow.”

  “Well it does, ’cause I seen them.” Elmer spit another stream of tobacco juice. “It was too involved in eating my cow to see me standing right where I’m standing now. It just kept tearing off pieces of meat and swallowing them whole.”

  “Why didn’t you shoot the monster?”

  “I did but not with my shotgun.” Elmer reached into the pocket of his grimy overalls and produced a small disposable camera with flash. “I shot him with this.”

  “You carry a camera, Elmer?” Sheriff Sutton asked perplexed.

  “Sure do. Bought it at the Dollar Store in town. I keep it for when I see a UFO or one of those CIA men in black suits that drive by my farm all the time. I know they’re spying on me. Might be watching us right now. Last night, the camera flash sent the creature running off into the night. I guess old Bigfoot is a bit camera-shy, but I got him bigger than life this time. Now people will believe me and won’t think I’m nuttier then bug shit.”

  “That picture is evidence, Elmer. You’re going to have to turn over the roll of film to me.”

  “Can’t, Sheriff.”

  “I promise to give it back after it’s developed but, for now, it’s evidence of a crime.”

  Elmer shook his head and spit tobacco. “I don’t got it anymore. I gave the film to old Jasper.”

  “Jasper Higgins?” Sheriff Sutton asked in shock.

  “Yeah. He came around this morning. He heard of my murdered cow. Said he saw something last night, too, on his farm. His property is only a couple of miles from here.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, he took the roll of film to develop it. Said he’d bring it back. Told me I might have gotten something important. They might want to put the picture up on television or in the papers.”

  “Jasper is a suspect in his wife’s murder. He’s looking for a way to pin the murder on anyone or thing but himself.”

  Elmer paused for a second and looked down at the rotting carcass. “He says what I saw last night was a werewolf.”

  Sheriff Sutton’s gut tightened. “A werewolf?”

  “That’s what he says. He claims there’s a werewolf running around and it’s the same one that killed his wife. I told him I know Bigfoot when I see one.” Elmer laughed. “I think he’s the one crazier than bug shit.”

  “He was probably drunk.”

  “Stone sober. The first time I had seen him such since Emma’s death. I liked her, by the way. She was a nice lady and came over and read the Bible to me on some days.”

  “Something did kill your cow last night, Elmer. I’m going to have to file a report and mark off the
crime scene.” He removed a pair of latex forensic gloves from his back pocket and slid them on each hand. “Right now I’m going to check those bite marks.”

  “When Jasper returns with the photographs you can use them as evidence.”

  “I’ll need those, too.” He pointed at the shotgun Elmer held in the crook of his arm. “That’s a nice firearm, Elmer. Where did you get it?”

  “This old double-barrel?” He shifted up the weapon for the sheriff to look closer. “Belonged to my grandpap, and then my pappy, and he handed it down to me.”

  “What is it? A 12 gauge?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you mind?” Sheriff Sutton extended his hand.

  “Not at all.” Elmer handed it over to the sheriff.

  “Thanks.” He whistled softly and hefted the weapon. Unlike himself, the old hermit kept the double-barrel perfectly clean. “She’s a beauty.”

  “I keep it loaded for when the CIA or aliens show up to abduct me.”

  “Good plan,” Sheriff Sutton said, sticking the shotgun under Elmer’s beard and pulling both barrels. The surprised man’s head exploded in a shower of blood, bone, and chunks of brain matter. The shot echoed across the farm while the headless body fell to the ground beside the carcass of his beloved cow. Bending down, he placed the smoking weapon on Elmer’s chest and curled a dead finger around the trigger to make it look like he committed suicide. It wouldn’t pass any real forensic test but would do on a cursory examination.

  “Elmer, you stink worse dead than alive,” Sheriff Sutton said, standing back up and peeling the gloves off his hands.

  Walking back to the patrol car, he pulled out his cell phone and pressed dial.

  “Roxie’s Roadhouse,” Roxie said on the other end after three rings.

  “We need a gathering,” Sheriff Sutton said. “Call the rest of the Pack together.”

  “This afternoon?”

  “Yes, before the bar opens.”

  “We’re all hungry. Collin says you must find us some meat first.”

  Sheriff Sutton cursed under his breath. “I don’t know if I can on such short notice. It’s very risky.”

  “Dale,” Roxie spoke in a quieter voice, “the hunger is intensifying due to the upcoming Ebon Moon. I know you feel it, too. We need to feed.”