know what she expected to see. Wolves parading down the street? The cries were coming from somewhere outside town, much farther away. With another shiver, she looked again to where the stranger stood.
But he was gone.
SIX
More loggers than usual crowded the diner and Darby seriously doubted it was Sam’s meatloaf special that lured them in. It was obvious why they were here. The third attack in a month, and this time it was Corey.
No one ate at Sam’s who didn’t know Corey. She’d been working in the diner since high school. She grew up here. Ironically enough, her death only brought in more customers—as though the diner itself were the scene of the crime. Maggie and Darby could hardly keep up with the orders. Even with all the running she did, she was breathless as she wove between tables.
Corey was the subject on everyone’s lips, snatches of conversation filling Darby’s ears. She shivered as she recalled her last glimpse of Corey skipping down her porch steps, heading out on her date. And then she shivered again as she recalled how she had died. Or at least how people were saying she died.
Corey’s body had been found just outside of town. Or rather what was left of her body. The explanation for her slaughter was obvious to everyone. Wolves. What else could it be? What else could have done such damage?
Only Darby wasn’t convinced. Darby knew there were other things out there … things that did not bear simple explanation.
From the rumble of conversation, she gathered that many of the loggers had abandoned the camps, angry and refusing to return until the wolf threat was “handled.”
Darby hurried from table to table, refilling glasses and making sure everyone had what they needed and avoiding pointed questions about Corey. She had no answers to give anyway. And the theory that was starting to form in her head would only get her tossed in a padded room.
She knew she should be grateful for the crowd. The extra tip money was always needed, especially as she was preparing to move on again, but the crowd was a strain. So many people, so many voices. All of it threatened to undo her, to break down her walls, weaken her for a demon’s possession.
Her thoughts whirred in her head, mingling with the buzz of the crowded diner. She wished she could just take cover from it all.
She’d give anything for a run, for the steady rhythm of her legs pounding the earth, exorcising her of all troubling thoughts. Maybe after work. She winced and looked out at the diner again, her gaze roaming the full tables. Not likely tonight. Unless she was up for a one a.m. run.
This thought made her shiver again and slide a glance toward the open blinds. Still light out, but it would be a full moon tonight. She wasn’t crazy enough to take a midnight jog on a full moon. Even before bodies started turning up, she possessed a healthy respect for those three nights a month when the moon was full.
The door chimed the entrance of more customers and she almost groaned. There was hardly a table left.
She stopped, her mouth drying as she faced the stranger. Her stranger.
Calling herself an idiot for thinking of him in such terms, she motioned to the counter and a vacant stool. “Have a seat. Be with you in a second.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched as he moved to the counter and settled his lean frame on a stool with easy movements.
“What time you get off, Darby?”
Darby winced, regretting the name tag that let everyone think they could use her name like they were old friends.
“I don’t know. We’re busy tonight,” she replied to a barrel-chested guy who breathed heavily from his mouth. She’d seen him in here several times, though she couldn’t remember his name. His interest in her wasn’t innocent like the others’. His comments weren’t teasing or cajoling. Heavy Breather had dark, empty eyes. She doubted he’d ever had a woman in his life whom he treated with any measure of respect or kindness.
As though to confirm this suspicion, he snatched hold of her wrist as she was collecting his glass for a refill. “How come you never look me in the eye?”
“Come on, let’s not do this,” she murmured, fighting to keep the edge from her voice. “We’ve had kind of a rough day around here.”
He ignored her request. “I’m paying for good service, right?”
“You’re paying for a