Read Online Prowlers: Wild Things by Christopher Golden - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christopher Golden
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yourselves. Especially not after all this time."
"Trail's colder'n a polar bear's ass," Hank muttered.
Jack stiffened. The younger brother fidgeted as though he had the good sense to be made uncomfortable by his brother's behavior.
"He doesn't mean anything by it," the bearded man said. He stood up and offered his hand, first to Jack and then to Molly. They all shook.
"Jack Sears. And this is Molly Feehan," Jack lied.
"I'm Dave Krause," the man said. "Terrible thing about your cousin. I think I remember hearing about that on a run through here, maybe last fall. Found him at a rest area, didn't they?"
"That's right," Molly said.
All their eyes went to her. Jack didn't like the way Hank Krause looked at her, but there was nothing particularly monstrous about it. Just the normal every day beast that any pretty girl had to deal with. Still, he glared at the guy. Hank caught the look, and gave him a sly grin, just between the two of them. Jack wanted desperately to hit him, but he figured unless he had a baseball bat, he had best just stand right where he was.
"Actually, it was this rest stop," Molly went on.
"Oh," Dave said, and a moment of silence fell upon them all as they looked around, apparently creeped out by the news. "Wow," he added. "Suzanne's right, though. Not sure what you hope to find after all this time."
Jack took a breath, stepped away from the card table and stared out at the road. "Jared's mom still cries herself to sleep at night," he said, hating the taste of the lie in his mouth and wondering how good an actor he was. He turned around and studied them to see if they were buying it. It seemed like they were.
"When we saw this news piece about a trucker who got killed pretty much the same way up here, we just figured maybe it's the same guy. Maybe there's some connection between how this freak found Jared and how he ended up killing this other guy."
All four stared at him. The jarhead's gaze went back and forth from him to Molly. It had not been lost on Jack that the guy had yet to say a single word.
"What was the driver's name?" Suzanne asked.
Jack had forgotten completely. He glanced at Molly.
"Chester Douglas," she said. "Chet, I think people called him."
As though they were holding their breath, the drivers all glanced awkwardly at one another, searching each other's faces, clearly waiting for one among them to say, ah, poor Chet , or something of the sort. Hank Krause tilted his can of Budweiser back and let it stream into his mouth, ignoring everyone else.
"Don't think I've ever heard of him," Suzanne said.
Dave shrugged.
The jarhead just stared at them.
Jack sighed and scratched the back of his head. He half-turned to Molly and she reached out to take his hand. It's all right , he thought as he slipped his hand into hers. Let them see that. The frustration, or whatever. Maybe it makes it all the more real.
"Listen, we're sorry to have bothered you," Molly said. "We really appreciate the time. The way we're thinking now is that if whoever killed Jared also killed Chet Douglas, he may have killed more people around here. Chet drove a truck and the police say he often slept in rest stops along this road on his long runs. Jared was probably hitchhiking and his body was left in a rest stop. If you think of anything else you've heard, even if it's only a rumor, that might be related, we'll be at the Riverside Motel in Fairbrook for a couple of days."
Dave slipped his hands in his pockets, glanced at Suzanne, and then looked back at them. "We're on the road, y'know? I mean, in a couple of hours, none of us is going to be within fifty miles of here. But if I think of anything, well, I know where you are."
"Same goes for me," Suzanne said. "I'm headed for West Virginia, but I'll keep it in mind. And pass it on."
"Thanks," Jack said. "Much appreciated."
With that, he and Molly turned and went back to the Jeep. Behind them, the drivers were silent, save for the sound of Hank popping another
"Trail's colder'n a polar bear's ass," Hank muttered.
Jack stiffened. The younger brother fidgeted as though he had the good sense to be made uncomfortable by his brother's behavior.
"He doesn't mean anything by it," the bearded man said. He stood up and offered his hand, first to Jack and then to Molly. They all shook.
"Jack Sears. And this is Molly Feehan," Jack lied.
"I'm Dave Krause," the man said. "Terrible thing about your cousin. I think I remember hearing about that on a run through here, maybe last fall. Found him at a rest area, didn't they?"
"That's right," Molly said.
All their eyes went to her. Jack didn't like the way Hank Krause looked at her, but there was nothing particularly monstrous about it. Just the normal every day beast that any pretty girl had to deal with. Still, he glared at the guy. Hank caught the look, and gave him a sly grin, just between the two of them. Jack wanted desperately to hit him, but he figured unless he had a baseball bat, he had best just stand right where he was.
"Actually, it was this rest stop," Molly went on.
"Oh," Dave said, and a moment of silence fell upon them all as they looked around, apparently creeped out by the news. "Wow," he added. "Suzanne's right, though. Not sure what you hope to find after all this time."
Jack took a breath, stepped away from the card table and stared out at the road. "Jared's mom still cries herself to sleep at night," he said, hating the taste of the lie in his mouth and wondering how good an actor he was. He turned around and studied them to see if they were buying it. It seemed like they were.
"When we saw this news piece about a trucker who got killed pretty much the same way up here, we just figured maybe it's the same guy. Maybe there's some connection between how this freak found Jared and how he ended up killing this other guy."
All four stared at him. The jarhead's gaze went back and forth from him to Molly. It had not been lost on Jack that the guy had yet to say a single word.
"What was the driver's name?" Suzanne asked.
Jack had forgotten completely. He glanced at Molly.
"Chester Douglas," she said. "Chet, I think people called him."
As though they were holding their breath, the drivers all glanced awkwardly at one another, searching each other's faces, clearly waiting for one among them to say, ah, poor Chet , or something of the sort. Hank Krause tilted his can of Budweiser back and let it stream into his mouth, ignoring everyone else.
"Don't think I've ever heard of him," Suzanne said.
Dave shrugged.
The jarhead just stared at them.
Jack sighed and scratched the back of his head. He half-turned to Molly and she reached out to take his hand. It's all right , he thought as he slipped his hand into hers. Let them see that. The frustration, or whatever. Maybe it makes it all the more real.
"Listen, we're sorry to have bothered you," Molly said. "We really appreciate the time. The way we're thinking now is that if whoever killed Jared also killed Chet Douglas, he may have killed more people around here. Chet drove a truck and the police say he often slept in rest stops along this road on his long runs. Jared was probably hitchhiking and his body was left in a rest stop. If you think of anything else you've heard, even if it's only a rumor, that might be related, we'll be at the Riverside Motel in Fairbrook for a couple of days."
Dave slipped his hands in his pockets, glanced at Suzanne, and then looked back at them. "We're on the road, y'know? I mean, in a couple of hours, none of us is going to be within fifty miles of here. But if I think of anything, well, I know where you are."
"Same goes for me," Suzanne said. "I'm headed for West Virginia, but I'll keep it in mind. And pass it on."
"Thanks," Jack said. "Much appreciated."
With that, he and Molly turned and went back to the Jeep. Behind them, the drivers were silent, save for the sound of Hank popping another
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