Night Howl Read Free Page A

people were made paranoid by an occasional burglary and by television news crime stories.
    All in all, settling in the town of Fallsburg seemed a smart and logical thing to do. He had been happy with his decision and proud of what he had done for his family. He had placed them in a simpler, happier world and they had loved it—until now.
    Chief Michaels handed him a copy of the lab report and he read it three times before reacting.
    “There’s got to be some mistake. Can we have them redo it?”
    “Believe me, they did.”
    “It doesn’t make any sense. It wasn’t a dog we just got.”
    “It happens,” the chief said.
    “You mean it’s part of life, part of this world?”
    The chief shrugged. “What can I tell you? It wasn’t rabies. The dog just got a stick up its ass. Thank God it wasn’t worse than it was.”
    “It was bad enough.”
    “It’s dead. What else can we do?”
    Sid simply stood there, staring at him.
    “Go see a vet or talk to an animal psychiatrist,” the chief added facetiously.
    Sid nodded. “I might just do that,” he said.
    The chief followed him to the doorway of the station, which was part of the town hall and justice court. The hamlet of South Fallsburg, which was one of seven in the township, was the busiest and most populated. The Kaufmans lived a little more than two miles out of the business area, which was located on one main street that consisted of a variety of stores, luncheonettes, two bar-and-grills, two drugstores, twobanks, a large grocery, and some professional offices. The town was so quiet during the off-season months, especially during the heart of winter, that a dog could go to sleep on the main street and feel confident of his security.
    It was precisely this simplicity that made the area so attractive to Sid. Now, as he looked out at the intermittent traffic, he felt deceived. Terrible things could happen here, too. There were no guarantees.
    Harry Michaels’s weathered face softened as he stood beside Sid Kaufman. He was sorry now that he hadn’t appeared more sympathetic. The father of two grown sons, he could understand Sid’s outrage at what had occurred. It was easy to lose track of how fragile life was and how vulnerable to injury, illness, and disaster children were. How many vehicular traffic accidents involving teenagers had he investigated over the past twenty-nine years, and what about those two teenage suicides last year? Even a semi-rural police chief supervising a force of only twelve full-time men could grow hardened and insensitive, he thought.
    “How’s your boy doin’?”
    “Thirty stitches,” Sid said, looking out the window. It was as though he were talking to himself. “But the worst part of it is the psychological part. He doesn’t sleep—nightmares. He’s afraid to go out of the house. He’ll probably be afraid of dogs for the rest of his life ... maybe all animals. And my daughter... she’s just as bad. Clara’s just coming down from a peak of hysteria.”
    “It’s eerie. I wish I had some logical explanation for you, but like I said . . .”
    “I know.” Sid looked at him. He was a couple of inches taller than the fifty-six-year-old police chief, but his slim build and fair skin made him appear slight beside the stocky, one-hundred-eighty-pound law officer, who often appeared more like a senior truckdriver. He had big hands and large facial features. His hair had grayed and thinned, but he kept it brushed down and over so it didn’t seem so.
    “However,” Sid said, “I’ll find the logical explanation. That’s for sure,” he added. His blue eyes darkened with intensity and determination.
    The chief nodded. “Wish you luck. Call me if you need anything else.”
    “Thanks.”
    The chief watched Sid walk out to his car. He limped because of the bite in his leg. After he drove off, Michaels went back to his desk and put the file on the Kaufman dog incident in his closed-case folder. As far as he was concerned, there