Ebon Moon

  Come to me, child. Come see what the noise is.

  * * * *

  Megan jutted her tongue out one side of her mouth as she concentrated on coloring Red Riding Hood’s cape. Pushing the red crayon along the paper, she tried her best to keep within the lines. She wanted to show her mommy the picture when she came home from work. The overhead light above the dining room table illuminated her artwork in a soft glow. From the front room, Nelda sat in the reclining chair and knitted a sweater for fall. Megan was happy. The hot chocolate she drank earlier had warmed her tummy and the trailer house, her new home, was quiet and cozy. She missed Mommy but knew she would be home later. She didn’t miss Daddy. He was a bad man who left her alone in a dark house in the middle of the night. Mommy made sure she had Aunt Nel to watch over her. Megan liked Aunt Nel, who was nice and always smelled like cookies when she gave her a hug.

  Megan put down the red crayon. She had finished with Red Riding Hood’s cape and turned her attention to the Bad Wolf. In the line drawing, the animal watched the girl secretly from around a tree. It was a scary picture. The Bad Wolf had sharp fangs and a tongue sticking out of its mouth. The drawn eyes of the animal reminded her of Daddy when he was angry—the kind of look he would have right before he hit Mommy.

  “How are you coming with your coloring, sweat pea?” Aunt Nel asked as she put down her needles and slid her reading glasses up on her forehead.

  “Okay,” Megan replied. “What crayon should I color the Bad Wolf? Gray or black?”

  “I think wolves are mostly gray.”

  “Okay.” Megan picked up the gray crayon.

  A sudden knocking rattled the front door of the trailer. The abrupt noise caused Aunt Nel to jump to her feet and spill the knitting out of her lap. Startled, Megan reached for the gray crayon, but it rolled off the end of the table before she could grab it. Continuing along the linoleum tiles on the floor, the crayon bumped against the bottom of the back door in the laundry room.

  Aunt Nel went to the front door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Sam.”

  Unlocking the bolt, Aunt Nel swung it open. “Jesus, Sam, you scared the hell out of me,” she hissed.

  “Sorry.” He stepped into the light of the front room wearing a heavy jacket over his coveralls and a hunting rifle held in the crook of his arm. “Something’s spooked the livestock.” Seeing Megan sitting at the table, Sam waved. “Hi, Meg.”

  “Hi,” Megan said as she scooted her chair back from the table.

  Turning to Aunt Nel, he said, “I want you two to stay inside the trailer. If you hear anyone moving about outside, it’s just me.”

  On bare feet, Megan padded across the floor to retrieve the lost crayon. From the front room came the low voices of the two grown-ups. She bent down to pick up the gray crayon at the base of the back door and stopped. Scratching noises sounded from the other side of the door.

  It’s Tig, she thought to herself as she remembered the tabby cat. Poor Tig wants to come in from the cold.

  Megan reached up and unlocked the doorknob. She wasn’t tall enough to unhook the chain, but maybe she could open the door far enough to let the cat inside. She turned the knob and the door popped open as far as the chain would allow, letting in light from the full moon. Something suddenly blocked the moonlight. A nightmarish form with red eyes and a horrendous maw of sharp fangs gazed at her through the space in the doorway.

  Scared, Megan fell back on the floor and watched speechless as black claws reached for her through the open space of the door.

  She screamed.

  Aunt Nel and Sam rushed into the room, shock showing in both their faces at the sight of her curled up on the floor.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Aunt Nel asked.

  Megan pointed at the door hanging open on the chain.

  “Something’s outside, Sam,” Nelda said as she swept Megan off the floor and into her arms. “I heard it growling.”

  “Stay.” He unclasped the chain and swung open the door. “What the hell?” were his next words as he snapped the rifle up to his shoulder and fired. The shot thundered within the confines of the utility room. A second shot sounded as Aunt Nel carried her away into the light of the living room.

  “There, there, sweet pea, it’ll be all right.” Nel held her close. “Tell Aunt Nel what you saw at the back door.”

  “The Bad Wolf,” Megan whimpered with wet tears against the woman’s neck.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “You’ve got a call,” Roxie shouted above Debbie Miller belting out a Pat Benatar song over the karaoke sound system.

  “What?” Jessica yelled back.

  From behind the bar, Roxie raised the phone and motioned for her to come over. Jessica jostled her way through the crowd.

  “Phone call,” Roxie said when Jessica reached the bar.

  “Okay.” She took the portable phone and stepped into the back room to better hear the person on the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Jess, this is Nelda.”

  A tinge of fear settled in Jessica’s stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  “Something scared Megan.”

  “What do you mean something scared her?”

  “She heard scratching at the back door and thought it was Tig. She opened the door and something scared her. Sam and I were both in the front room. He had come over because the livestock were spooked. I should’ve been watching her closer, Jess. I’m sorry. I’m not used to looking after children.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s pretty shook up. So am I. We’re too scared to stay in the trailer tonight. I brought her over to my house. She’s here with me.”

  “You said something scared her. What was it?”

  “Sam thinks it was a big dog scratching to get in from the cold. He only saw it running away in the dark. He shot at it twice with his rifle and thinks he may have hit it.”

  “Is that ordinary for a stray dog to come on your farm like that?”

  “We’ve had problems with coyotes and wild dogs in the past, but none have ever come scratching at the door.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “Yeah, she’s right here.”

  As Jessica waited for Megan to come to the phone, she glanced out at the crowded serving area. The place was too busy for her to leave. Roxie popped open a line of beer bottles and tried to wait on customers crowding the bar. Jessica knew she needed to rush home but didn’t want to leave Roxie in a bind running the bar herself. Not on her first day on the job.

  Damn it! Where the hell is Collin?

  “Mommy?” Megan asked in her weepy voice on the other end of the line.

  “Hi, baby. Mommy’s here.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know, baby. Mommy will be home as soon as possible. Okay, sugar?”

  “I saw the Bad Wolf, Mommy.”

  “The one in your coloring book?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “You stay over at Aunt Nel and Sam’s house until I get there. You be a big girl until Mommy comes home. All right?”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me talk to Aunt Nel.”

  Silence, and then, “I’m so sorry, Jess. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t let her out of my sight.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Nel. Compared to how her bastard father used to leave her alone at night, you did nothing wrong. Keep her warm and close until I get there. I’m going to try to get off work as soon as possible. The place is packed right now.”

  “She’s safe here. Sam is with us and he has his rifle.”

  “That’s good.”

  “The poor girl has been through so much.”

  “Too much,” Jessica said and ended the call. She returned to the main room of the bar and replaced the phone on the receiver.

  “Something wrong?” Roxie asked as she readied to expertly open another beer.

  “My daughter got scared by something at the house. She’s pretty upset.”

  “Scared? Wha
t frightened her?”

  “A big dog.”

  Roxie stiffened and the bottle she opened slipped out of her grip, spilling beer down the bar.

  “Damn!” she cursed and grabbed up a nearby towel. “Are you kidding? A dog?”

  “I’ve got to go home as soon as possible.”

  “Just leave,” Roxie replied in a terse voice as she sopped up spilled beer. “Go ahead. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Are you sure? Listen, Roxie, I can’t afford to lose this job.”

  “Just go.” Anger flashed in Roxie’s dark eyes.

  Jessica made her decision then. She could always find another place to work. Megan was more important than anything else in the world. They had been through hell together, and she knew her daughter was home crying for Mommy.

  Taking the purse out of the locker, she emptied the dollar bills out of her tip jar and stuffed them inside. Without saying a word to anyone, she stepped out the front door of the smoky bar and into the night air.

  A sense of paranoia gripped her as she walked briskly toward the Camaro waiting at the end of a line of vehicles facing the roadhouse. She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was behind her, a lesson she learned in Chicago when the crackhead followed her from the strip club. She focused on the row of parked Harley motorcycles. A dark figure in black stood by one of the bikes. A cold chill raced down her spine as she increased her step and took the keys from her purse. Reaching the side of the car, she inserted the key to unlock the driver door.

  A man grabbed her from behind. Oh God, her mind screamed. Blake!

  “Not leaving so soon, are you, baby?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

  She pushed out of the man’s hold to find it was Brody, the smartass who had held her wrist in the bar.

  “Stay away from me,” she warned.

  “The party’s just getting started, girl.”

  “I have to go home, so leave me alone.”

  “Hey, no need to get all upset.” He leaned closer, reeking of beer breath. “I just want to apologize for what I said in there. Let’s kiss and make up.”

  “Leave me alone!” she shouted, jabbing him in the face with her car key. He staggered back from the sudden attack. Shoving him farther away, Jessica popped open the car door and jumped inside behind the wheel. Before she could shut the door, Brody blocked it with his shoulder and stuck his head inside the car.

  “You little tease!” Spittle flew from his lips. In the glow from the dome light, blood ran down from a deep scratch in his cheek. “You’re going to pay for that!”

  Jessica reached under the seat and yanked up the .357 pistol. She shoved the barrel under the man’s nose.

  “I said to the get the fuck away from me!” she warned again.

  His eyes went wide from the sight of the large pistol in his face. He stepped back from the car as Jessica shut the driver door. Placing the gun in her lap, she fumbled with the car keys and finally got one in the ignition. With her heart racing from the adrenaline rush of the assault, she turned the engine over and backed the car out in a cloud of white gravel dust. Without a look in the rearview mirror, she drove the Camaro out of the parking lot.

  She never saw what happened next to Brody.

  * * * *

  Used to long stakeouts, Blake waited patiently in the dark for Jess to leave the bar. Intending to keep his vigil until she went home after closing time, it surprised him when the front door opened and she stormed out. Blake checked his watch: 11:38. Too early for closing time and, judging by the full parking lot, the roadhouse was too busy for a waitress to leave. Something must have happened.

  As Jess walked toward the Camaro, she looked directly at him over her shoulder. Blake stepped back into the shadows. For the second time today, she didn’t realize her husband watched her. Like before, something else was on her mind. With hurried footsteps, she continued to the car. He slid his leg over the Harley to start the bike. Homicidal anger burned in his gut at the sight of his wife. It was time to follow the cheating whore home and take his revenge with the baseball bat.

  The roadhouse door opened again. A tall man staggered out of the bar and followed after Jess. He knew instinctively that the drunk was going to assault her.

  No one touches my wife but me!

  Blake slid off the bike and eased the aluminum bat out of his coat. He crossed the lot toward the two of them. Words exchanged as Jessica struggled with the assaulting drunk. Crouching down behind the bumper of a nearby truck, he risked a glance around the taillight to see what transpired between the two. Jess had his .357 service pistol stuck into the man’s face. Eyes wide with fear, the drunk staggered back and she shut the driver’s door. The Camaro’s engine turned over and the car tore out of the gravel lot.

  Blake stood up with the bat gripped in his hand.

  “Hey,” he called out.

  The drunk half-turned toward him. Blake swung the bat and struck the man’s head with a sickening thud. He collapsed against the side of the pickup and fell to the gravel. Blake contemplated a second swing, but the taillights of the Camaro disappeared down the highway. If he didn’t follow her now, he could lose Jessica twice in the same day.

  He sprinted toward the Harley and started the bike. The engine thundered to life and he roared out of the parking lot onto Highway 133. Turning toward the speeding Camaro, he spotted the taillights a couple of miles down the dark highway heading toward Hope Springs. Blake increased the throttle to keep the Camaro in sight. Jessica barely slowed as she tore through the center of town and continued on. Blake followed and hoped he wouldn’t be pulled over for speeding. Jessica didn’t have to worry about a ticket since the whore was fucking the town’s hick sheriff. He would have to kill whoever stopped him.

  Outside the town limits, she turned down a two-lane blacktop. Blake slowed the bike and took the same turn. He contemplated turning off his headlight but knew the loud pipes of the bike could still be heard. He had to chance a drive-by when Jessica reached her destination and hope he wouldn’t raise her suspicions of being followed.

  A mile down the blacktop, the Camaro turned into the driveway of a large farm. As he drew near, the car disappeared around the back of a barn. He checked out the property as he drove past. A large farmhouse, barn, metal shed, and darkened double-wide trailer on a hill made up the details he could discern at night. The only interior lights were on in the house. He continued farther down the road past the farm.

  Blake smiled. Now all he had to do was sneak back. Then he would repay the bitch for what she did to him. He reached out and touched the end of the bat stuck in the gap of the handlebars. His quest to find his backstabbing wife paid off.

  He had Jess now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Jessica exited the Camaro. Sam stood at the back door of the farmhouse holding his hunting rifle.

  “How’s Megan?” she shouted above the rumble of a passing motorcycle on the road running in front of the farm.

  “She’s safe with Nel,” Sam replied. “The poor girl’s had a bad scare and been asking for you.”

  “I came as fast as I could.” He held the door open to let her in. She passed through the kitchen, dining area, and into the living room where Nelda sat on the couch cradling Megan wrapped in a blanket.

  “Are you okay, baby?” Jessica asked while dropping her purse into a chair.

  Megan looked up with teary blue eyes. “Mommy!”

  Sliding out of the blanket, she ran across the room and into her arms. Her wet face pressed against Jessica’s cheek as she lifted her up to hold her close. The child shivered in her embrace.

  “I’m here now,” Jessica whispered in her daughter’s ear.

  “She’s been frightened near to death.” Nelda stood and crossed over to join them. She ran her fingers tenderly through Megan’s blonde curls. “It scared the hell out of me, too.”

  “Tell me again what happened,” Jessica said.

  Sam laid the rifle across the dining table and entered th
e living room. “The livestock were spooked so I went to check things out. I stopped at the trailer to tell Nel not to be afraid if she saw or heard me moving about outside. I was talking to her in the front room when little Meg here heard scratching at the back door. I guess she thought Tig was trying to get in and opened the door as far as the chain allowed. Whatever was on the other side scared her and she screamed. We both ran into the utility room, and I fired two shots out the back door at something running into the night.”

  “It was the Bad Wolf, Mommy,” Megan sobbed.

  “Could it have been a wolf?” Jessica asked Sam.

  “I don’t think so. There hasn’t been a wolf in these parts for a hundred years. The ranchers killed them off around the turn of the century.”

  “What the hell was it then?”

  Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m thinking a large dog, black bear, or a mountain lion, something big. I only got a glimpse when it ran off, though I’m pretty sure I shot it at least once before it got away. I’d go out looking for it but don’t want to hunt a large wounded animal in the dark. I’ll wait until morning comes.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t have bought her the coloring book, Jess. It’s was probably too scary for her,” Nelda stated.

  “I think she’ll be all right,” Jessica replied. “Let me just hold her for a while until she goes to sleep.”

  Jessica eased into a reclining chair hugging Megan close. After a few minutes, the child passed out and breathed softly against her chest in blissful sleep. Jessica fought back her own tears. In less than one week, she had fled her violent husband only to find her bad luck had followed her from Chicago. Running low on money, she probably lost her job tonight. Whatever scared Megan was going to make it nearly impossible for her to leave her daughter again and go to work. Once again, her life had jumped on a runaway train barreling downhill out of control.