Ebon Moon

  “Well, go wash your hands and face and then come back and help your mommy set the table,” Nelda replied. “We’re having guests for breakfast.”

  “Okay.” Megan bounded off toward the downstairs bathroom.

  * * * *

  As if by some male instinct, the men came in from the field as soon as breakfast was on the table. Sam entered the kitchen first, taking off his ball cap and leaning his rifle against the wall. The two teenage boys stood behind him hesitating at the door.

  “You can hang your jackets up here,” Sam told them as he took off his own and put it on a set of pegs on the wall. They followed suit.

  “Boys, come on in and take a seat,” Nelda called out.

  Sam took his place at the head of the table. Jessica studied the two youths as they pulled out chairs and sat down quietly. One was brown-haired and chubby around the middle with a boyish cuteness to his face. The other was thin with a face full of unfortunate acne and a chestnut-colored mop of greasy hair desperately in need of brushing. A faded Rob Zombie T-shirt clung loosely to his bony frame.

  “Sam, dear, why don’t you introduce us to your new friends?” Nelda asked while filling a cup with coffee.

  “I’ll let the boys do that.”

  “Sid Granger,” the skinny boy said.

  “Terry Newman,” said the other. He smiled shyly to Jessica and glanced briefly down at her bust.

  Sam cleared his throat. “That’s my wife, Nelda, and these two are our guests, Jessica and her daughter Megan.”

  “Hi,” Megan replied with a wave.

  “Hello,” Jessica echoed. Terry showed her another shy smile before looking away.

  “Are you boys old enough to drink coffee?” Nelda asked, putting a full cup in front of Sam.

  “We’re seventeen,” Sid replied, holding up his cup. “So fill ’er up.”

  “I’ll take a cup, too, Mrs. Olson,” Terry added.

  Nelda laughed. “You make it sound like we’re in a coffee commercial.” She filled their cups and sat the pot back on the stove. “Just call me Nelda.”

  “Are you from Hope Springs?” Jessica asked while fixing Megan a plate of eggs and biscuits.

  “We’re both from Morris,” Terry answered.

  “Well, there’s plenty of food, so help yourselves.” Nelda sat in her chair at the other end of the table. “Terry, are you related to a Clara Newman who works as a cashier at Wal-Mart?”

  “She’s my mother,” he replied, shoveling eggs and bacon on his plate. “She’s been there a long time. Sixteen years. She got the job when I was a year old.”

  “A nice lady. She’s waited on me several times. Tell her I said hello.”

  “Okay.”

  A long pause followed while everyone focused on the meal. As was typical with teenage boys, they proved to have ravenous appetites. Sid devoured his first plate as if he hadn’t had any food for days.

  “These biscuits are fu-freakin’ awesome, Mrs. Olson,” Sid announced with his mouth full.

  “Thank you.”

  “Dude, don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Terry said, elbowing Sid in the side. “Show some manners at the table.”

  “Sorry,” Sid replied around a half-eaten biscuit.

  Megan laughed. “You’re funny.”

  “He’s a real clown,” Terry commented.

  “So what grade are you in?” Jessica asked while buttering a biscuit.

  “I’m a junior in high school,” Terry answered.

  Sid remained quiet, and Jessica guessed he was a dropout.

  “What work are you going to do for my husband?” Nelda asked.

  Sam shifted in his seat. “They wanted permission to deer hunt on my land. Bow hunting season just opened, and they were here to look over the property. I told them they could.” Sam nodded toward Terry. “You boys are coming back tonight to hunt, aren’t you?”

  Terry glanced at Sid for a second and then said, “That’s right. I’ll be back after dark with my bow.”

  Jessica sensed something rang untrue about the conversation. The two gawky teenage boys across the table didn’t look like hunters to her. She decided not to ask questions and wait for Nelda to fill her in.

  “All done, Mommy,” Megan announced to the table.

  “Good girl. Put your dirty plate in the sink.”

  “Okay.”

  Megan slid out from the table and picked up her plate.

  “You got a cute little girl there,” Terry observed.

  “I like to think so.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Five.”

  The phone on the wall rang, causing Jessica’s heart to jump.

  “Goodness sakes,” Nelda said, rising from the table. “Who could that be at this time of morning?”

  Picking up the receiver, she spoke for a second to the caller.

  “Jess, it’s for you,” she announced.

  “Who is it?”

  “Roxie,” Nelda replied.

  Jessica took the phone. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Jess, this is Rox.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot last night. I don’t want you to think I’m upset. I need you to come back tonight.”

  Jessica paused. “I don’t think I can leave Megan alone again.”

  “You can bring her. She can stay in the back room while you wait tables.”

  “I don’t know if I want to take my daughter into a bar.”

  “It’s Saturday night and I need the help, Jess.” There was a pause. “I’ll pay you ten dollars an hour plus tips.”

  Jessica sighed. She so needed the money. “All right, I’ll be there.”

  “Good. See you around seven, then.”

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Sheriff Dale Sutton had enough problems to deal with before he parked at Dottie’s Café for breakfast. An Oklahoma Highway Patrol cruiser sitting in front of the diner was the first hint he was about to have a very shitty day. His problems doubled when he went inside.

  “Good morning, Sheriff.” Dottie nodded from behind the register as he entered. The breakfast rush had died down and the few customers left were chatting over coffee in the lull before lunch.

  “Morning, Dot,” he replied, removing his cap. He spotted the two OHP officers seated in a back booth. “Bring me my usual. I’ll be at the back table.”

  “Sure, Sheriff,” she replied with a flirtatious smile.

  He walked up to join the two patrol officers laughing among themselves. One of them, Ted Allison, noticed his approach and motioned to the other. The second man turned to look over his shoulder. He recognized him as David Walker.

  “You got a werewolf problem in this town, Sheriff?” David asked, showing a toothy smile.

  Sheriff Sutton felt the blood in his veins turn to ice.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Ted produced a paper with the printed picture Elmer Grosslin had taken two nights ago.

  “Found this sitting on the table when we got here,” he said and chuckled. “Seems someone’s trying to warn the local hunters there’s a werewolf running loose. Stupidest damn thing I ever heard of.”

  Sheriff Sutton settled into the booth and studied the picture. “Who passed these around?” he asked, knowing the answer.

  Dottie put an empty cup on the table and filled it. “Two teenage boys came in about three hours ago, Sheriff. Started talking nonsense about werewolves and gave the flyer to everyone here. One of them got mouthy with big Bob Holsten and he ran them off. I’ve opened this diner for the last twenty-three years and never seen anything like it.”

  “Thanks, Dottie,” Sheriff Sutton replied as she walked away. He looked down at the flyer and fought back his anger. The two boys ignored his warnings, and now they would pay for it.

  Pay dearly.

  “You can’t smoke that much crack to come up with something this stupid,” Ted said. “Or are they trying to get a jump on Hallo
ween?”

  “A little early for a Halloween prank since it’s still a month away,” David commented.

  “Who knows?” He slid the paper back across the table. “They can photoshop this shit easy off the Internet. I’ve encountered these two potheads before. They’re a couple of delinquent punks living over in Morris.”

  “I would have a word with them about trying to scare people in your town,” Ted suggested.

  “I will.”

  “But that’s not why we’re here, though,” David stated.

  “I was wondering what brought you into my neck of the woods.”

  David reached into the front pocket of his uniform and removed a folded piece of paper. “OHP got a call from the governor’s office about a missing hitchhiker. Seems he’s a wounded Iraq war vet suffering from posttraumatic stress. The kid’s got a purple heart and a couple of other combat medals. His mother’s a friend of the governor. He called her from OKC and said he was hitching to Wichita a couple of days ago. No one’s heard from him since. Mother is all worried and reported him missing to the state attorney’s office. His name is Russell Norris.”

  Taking the paper, Sheriff Sutton studied it for a second. A picture of Russell Norris in full military dress occupied one corner of the missing person’s report. Statistics such as height, weight, age, military service, etc., filled the rest.

  “I haven’t seen him,” Sheriff Sutton lied.

  “We’re thinking he may have gotten off the interstate and might end up in one of these small towns. He was last dressed in dirty army clothes and a backpack,” Ted replied.

  “Might be sleeping under a bridge somewhere,” David added.

  “If you see him, Sheriff, give us a call.” Ted stuck a toothpick between his teeth. “Come on, Dave, let’s hit the highway.”

  “I’ll let you know if he comes around,” Sheriff Sutton replied and stood to let David out of the booth.

  Both officers grabbed their uniform hats and paused before leaving.

  “Good luck with your werewolf problem. By the way, there’s a full moon tonight,” David said with a smirk.

  “I know.”

  “How-o-o-o-o! Werewolves of Hope Springs,” Ted sang, doing a lame imitation of the classic Warren Zevon song.

  “Very funny,” Sheriff Sutton replied.

  Both men laughed and left the diner.

  Fighting back his rage, Sheriff Sutton stared at the flyer left on the table. Violent images of ripping out the throats of Sid Granger and Terry Newman filled his mind. The intense anger triggered his lycanthropy. His fingernails elongated as the hair on the back of his hands thickened.

  “More coffee, Sheriff?” Dottie asked, breaking his thoughts. The woman stood beside the table holding a glass coffeepot.

  He forced back the transformation and put his hands under the table. “Just half a cup, Dot.”

  As he watched the coffee pour into the cup, Sheriff Sutton thought about his dilemma with the two teenagers. They were going to have to die now. Maybe he could salvage the situation by offering the boys to Collin for the Feast of the Ebon Moon and keep Jess and Megan off the menu.

  * * * *

  “So who do you think is spying around the Olson farm?” Terry Newman asked, driving the F-150 back to Sid’s house in Morris.

  “A Peeping Tom,” Sid replied. “Did you see how hot that Jessica chick is? I’d want to peep in her windows any day.”

  “You would.” Terry shifted gears and added, “I have to admit she’s even hotter than Becky Warren.”

  “She’s a definite milf.”

  “Milf?”

  “Mother I’d love to fuck,” Sid clarified.

  Terry laughed. “Now I get it.”

  Leaving the Olson farmhouse after breakfast, they now reached the outskirts of Morris. The mid-morning sun blazed brightly through the windshield, forcing Terry to put down the visor to shadow his eyes. Sid picked up the yellow notepad from the truck seat with Mr. Higgins’s last will written upon it.

  “He left you fucking everything,” Sid said, reading the writing.

  “I was the only friend he had when he died,” Terry replied. “I’m calling his attorney Monday morning. It’s what Mr. Higgins wanted.”

  “The old man was innocent all along.”

  “And we’re the only ones who know it.”

  “Sad.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence until they pulled into the drive of Sid’s grandmother’s house. Terry shut off the truck and turned in the front seat.

  “I’ve been thinking. Mr. Olson suggested that we come back to the farm tonight and help him hunt for the werewolf. I’ve got all kinds of hunting junk my father left me.”

  “So we’re really going back?”

  “There’s something going on there with the werewolf making a visit every night. Plus there is the Peeping Tom with the baseball bat. I think Jessica might be in danger.”

  “Let me guess. You want to be Jessica’s knight in shining armor and protect the babe from the big bad werewolf?”

  “Yeah, she’s so hot.”

  “I fucking knew it.”

  “Come on, you have to admit the girl is fine.”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed over a girl you barely met?”

  “I think I’m in love.”

  “Why don’t you make a move on her then?”

  Terry paused for a moment and thought. “Dude, did you see her wedding ring?”

  “That don’t plug no holes.”

  “You’re disgusting. She’s at least seven years older than me.”

  “Yeah, and an older woman always got a thing for a younger man. Especially a woman that’s married. A guy your age is just reaching his sexual prime, and she knows it. She’s probably fantasizing now about how she’s going to fuck your legs off.”

  “You think?” Terry turned to Sid in the front seat. “If you’re such an expert, why don’t you come on to her?”

  “I get all the fucking sex I want.”

  “Beating off in front of a computer doesn’t count.”

  “Okay, dude, you’re on. Pick me up when you go back. I want to see if you’ve got the stones to make a move on Jessica or if you’re going to pussy out. I have to be there for that.”

  “You got a deal. I’ll be back before sunset.”

  “You’re going to pussy out.” Sid opened the passenger door and slid out of the truck.

  “No I’m not.”

  “Fuck yeah, you are,” Sid commented, shutting the door before walking toward his apartment.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “Mommy, the sheriff’s at the door,” Megan said, standing in the entrance to the trailer bathroom.

  Jessica stuck her head out of the shower. “What, baby?”

  “The nice sheriff is at the door.”

  Jessica held her arm out. “Hand me the towel, sugar.”

  Megan placed a plush towel in her hand. “Mommy, what do I say?”

  “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  Megan left as Jessica stepped out of the shower and vigorously dried her body. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted this early in the morning. Without owning a bathrobe, she had to slip back into her jeans and throw on a T-shirt. Wrapping the towel around her dripping hair, she walked barefoot into the front room, leaving water spots on the carpet. Through a window she saw Sheriff Sutton standing on the wooden deck, his patrol car parked next to the Camaro in the front grass.

  Opening both the door lock and dead bolt, she stuck her head out the door. “Hi.”

  “Did I come at a bad time?” he asked.

  “I just got out of the shower,” she replied.

  He glanced down at her wet breasts sticking to her T-shirt.

  “I guess it depends on who’s looking if this is a bad time or not.” He smiled.

  She covered her chest with her arms. “Very funny.”

  “Sam called me to come out here. He wasn’t very clear about why when he talked to disp
atch. I just wanted to make sure you and Megan were all right.”

  “We’re fine after last night.”

  “Last night?” The sheriff’s eyes hardened.

  “Yeah, some big dog tried to scratch its way into the back door. It scared Megan to death. That’s the reason I had to leave the bar early.”

  Sheriff Sutton’s eyes hardened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I guess in all the excitement, I forgot.”

  “Is that what Sam wants to talk to me about?”

  “I have no idea. It’s been a strange morning. Two teenage boys dropped by for breakfast. Said they were deer hunters, which I didn’t buy for a second. To me they were just a couple of nerdy boys. One kept ogling me.”

  “I bet.” Sheriff Sutton stepped off the wood deck. “I’m going to find Sam. Nelda told me he’s out fixing his fence. I’ll drive out to meet him. Talk to you later, Jess.”

  “Next time you drop by, I’ll be dressed.”

  “Don’t do it on my account.”

  “Why, Sheriff Sutton, are you flirting with me?”

  He flashed his white smile. “Yes, ma’am, I do believe I am.”

  As the sheriff walked toward his patrol car, Jessica called out, “Oh by the way, thanks for talking to Roxie about me returning to work. She called this morning and asked me to come back.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah, so I’ll be going in tonight. Is your offer still good about dropping by at closing time?”

  “It is. I’ve got to assist the police over in Morris, but I’ll be there by the time you get off work.”

  * * * *

  Sheriff Sutton fought back more anger as his patrol car bounced along the rutted cattle road running along the south fence line of the Olson property. The shitty day he was having just got worse. Now he had those two meddling teenagers visiting the Olson farm. He knew it had something to do with the big dog Jess claimed tried to get in the trailer last night. The perpetrator involved was no mystery, either.

  Collin.

  He’s out of control and screwing everything up over a little girl. The whole town is about to explode into werewolf hysteria if I don’t stop him soon.