The Howling II

13

ONE POWERFUL BOUND carried the wolf a quarter of the way up the stairs. There he stopped suddenly and listened. Outside there was a growing clamor of voices, as the neighbors, roused by Mrs. Jensen's screams, ran toward the Richter house to investigate.

Torn by conflicting emotions, part human, mostly animal, the wolf hesitated. The still-bloody muzzle pointed down toward the open front door, then up the stairs. On the landing, the door to the boy's room was closed. Behind it, the child was crying. The thin wood panel would not keep the huge wolf out for long, but out in front of the house, running feet were already pounding across the lawn.

The wolf chose survival. Leaping gracefully from the stairs, the beast landed on the floor of the hallway just as the first of the neighbors reached the front door. Without pausing, the wolf raced through the living room and sprang into the air, crashing out through a large window at the side of the house. As a babble of voices came from the house, the wolf loped across the lawn, through a border of trimmed shrubbery, and into the trees beyond.

Down the block, unnoticed by the people swarming toward the Richter house, a white Ford started its engine and moved slowly away from the curb without lights.

Inside, the house all was blood and confusion. The first people to come through the door stopped short at the sight of Mrs. Jensen's torn body. They were jostled forward by those who rushed in after them, and sent skidding off balance on the slippery floor.

A man turned away to vomit.

A woman screamed.

"He went out the window!" someone shouted.

"Let's go after him!"

"No, wait, maybe he's got a gun."

"Somebody call the police."

A woman standing on the fringe of the milling group turned to the man next to her. "It didn't look like a man to me," she said. "It looked like a big dog."

The man only glanced at her, shook his head irritably, and pushed forward for a closer look.

On the landing above them the door to Joey's room opened. The boy came out slowly and walked stiff-legged to the head of the stairs. His face was white and puffy, his eyes wide. One of the men stepped gingerly around Mrs. Jensen's body and ran up the stairs. He picked the boy up in his arms and carried him back into the bedroom.

At one o'clock Karyn and David arrived home to find their street clogged with emergency vehicles, and people swarming over the lawn in front of their house. The mobile-news crew from a local television station had parked its van in the driveway and had set up floodlights illuminating the house and yard. Overhead a police helicopter thundered in a tight circle, sweeping the area with a powerful spotlight.

David jammed to a stop at a wooden police barricade and jumped out of the car. He ran toward the house with Karyn following close behind. A rumpled man with weary eyes headed them off before they reached the front door.

"Just a minute, sir."

"This is our house," David said. "We live here. Who are you?"

"I'm Lieutenant MacCready of the Seattle Police. Are you Mr. and Mrs. Richter?"

"Yes. What's happened?"

"I'm afraid there's been an accident. A serious accident."

"Oh, my God, Joey!" Karyn cried. "Something's happened to Joey!"

"If that's the little boy, ma'am, he's all right," said MacCready. "One of the neighbors took him to their house."

"What is it, then?" David, demanded.

"There was an older woman living here — "

"Mrs. Jensen," David said. "She's our housekeeper."

"She's dead, sir. She's been killed."

Karyn's knees turned rubbery for a moment. David put an arm around her shoulder to steady her.

"How did it happen?" he asked the policeman.

"If you could come inside and answer a few questions, you can help us find that out," MacCready said.

David looked down at Karyn.

"It's all right," she said in a small voice.

He turned back to MacCready. "We'll help in any way we can, Lieutenant."

Inside, Mrs. Jensen's body had been taken away and a tarpaulin spread on the floor at the foot of the stairs to cover most of the spilled blood. Lieutenant McCready led the Richters into the family room, out of sight of the blood stains.

Yes, they told him, everything had seemed quite normal when they left the house this evening. No, they had no knowledge of anyone who might want to kill Mrs. Jensen. Yes, she was a careful person, in the habit of keeping the door locked. No, it was not likely she would have admitted a stranger to the house.

Lieutenant MacCready scribbled notes in a spiral-bound pad as Karyn and David answered his questions.

"Have you noticed anyone suspicious hanging around the neighborhood lately?"

Karyn started to speak, then hesitated.

The detective looked up. "Mrs. Richter?"

Karyn saw David's slight frown, but went ahead anyway. "Well, there has been someone. But I don't know if it's relevant."

"Anything at all you can tell me might help," MacCready said.

"There's a woman," Karyn said, getting the words out in a hurry. "I've seen her several times lately. I had the feeling she was following me."

MacCready's eyes narrowed. "A woman following you, you say."

Karyn chewed her lip. She looked over at David. He took her hand.

"Do we have to go through all of this now?" David said to the policeman. "My wife has been under the care of a doctor. For her nerves."

Karyn stiffened slightly at David's emphasis on nerves.

"I'll make it as brief as I can," MacCready said. "This could be very important if what we have here is an attempted kidnapping."

"Kidnapping?" Karyn said. "Do you mean someone was trying to take Joey?"

"It's a possibility. Now, about this woman — "

Karyn told him about the dark-haired woman, and how she'd seen her in the coffee shop, on the street, and again riding in the taxi. As she spoke, Karyn realized how thin it sounded, how little it really was to base a suspicion on.

"Are you sure it was the same woman each time?" MacCready asked, his tone cool and courteous.

"Yes. I'm almost certain it was the same woman."

"Almost," the liteutenant repeated under his breath. Karyn could see the interest fade in his eyes. "We'll check it out," he said. "I think that's enough for tonight." He took a card from his breast pocket and handed it to David. "If anything comes up, give me a call."

As MacCready closed his notebook and stood up to leave, another uniformed officer came into the room.

"Lieutenant, do you want to talk to that woman now? The one who says she saw an animal?"

Karyn looked up sharply.

"No," MacCready said shortly. "You take her statement, that's all we need."

"What's that about an animal?" Karyn asked.

David gave her a warning look.

"One of your neighbors said she thought it looked like a big dog that jumped through the window and ran away from the house when the people came in." MacCready dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "People sometimes see things like that in moments of stress."

"But is it possible," Karyn persisted, "that it was an animal?"

The detective shook his head. "There are no dogs anywhere around here as big as the one she says she saw. And besides — " His eyes flicked toward the archway beyond which lay the blood-spattered tarpaulin. "There's no dog I ever heard of would do that to a human being."

"What about a wolf?" The question was out before she could think about it.

"Karyn, please," David said.

Lieutenant MacCready answered her question seriously. "No way. Wolves need wilderness. The only wilderness around here is that patch of trees over beyond your house, and nothing bigger than a ground squirrel can exist in there. No, what we're looking for here is a man. A big, powerful man. Probably a psychopath."

"I hope you get him, Lieutenant," David said fervently. "Mrs. Jensen was like part of the family."

"Don't you worry, Mr. Richter," said the detective, "we'll get him."

Karyn turned away from the men. Through the window she could see the moon shining intermittently through the broken clouds. No, you won't, Lieutenant, she thought. Not this one.