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If she had tossed a hand grenade onto the table she could not have hit Crow harder.
“What?” Val and Newton both exclaimed.
“Your father was also quoted in four separate articles, Val,” Jonatha said, “beginning with the murder of your uncle. ”
The three of them sat in stunned silence, gawking at her.
Jonatha finished her toast and cut a piece of omelet. “Mmm, good food here,” she said as she chewed. The silence persisted and finally Jonatha put down her fork. “You didn’t know your father was in the papers, did you?”
“No,” Val said. Her face had gone pale.
Jonatha folded her hands in her lap and looked at them in turn. Some of her smile had faded. “Okay, let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? Val, you and Crow lost family to the Reaper. According to the news stories you were friends with Morse, who worked for some time for your father. Your town’s mayor, Terry Wolfe, lost a sister to the killer and was himself hospitalized. All through this there was a terrible blight…the Black Harvest in question. Now, thirty years later we have another blight, another series of brutal murders, and violence again hitting the same three families. Even some of the dimmer news affiliates have remarked on the coincidence, but they left it as coincidence. ” She pursed her lips. “I don’t much believe in coincidence. ”
Crow opened his mouth to say something, but Jonatha held up a hand. “Let me finish. After Newton contacted me about this…about his book, I started reading up. I read everything I could find, including everything about Ruger and Boyd. That makes for some interesting reading. ” Her dark eyes glittered. “The news stories say that Crow and a Philly cop named Jerry Head both shot Ruger—and this is after Crow kicked the stuffing out of him—but the guy not only manages to flee the scene and elude a concentrated manhunt but then shows up a couple of days later and attacks again. Stronger than ever. How many bullets did it take to bring him down the second time?”
Instead of answering, Val just said, “Go on. ”
“Then Boyd attacks and kills two police officers on your farm. The news report—Mr. Newton’s own news report—states that one of the officers emptied his gun, apparently during the struggle. All those shots without hitting the suspect? A week or so later he attacks your brother and sister-in-law, kills one of your employees, and almost kills you and you have to empty an entire clip into him to bring him down. ”
None of them said a word.
“Then Newton here contacts me for backstory on the folklore of vampires and werewolves, wanting specifically to know how to identify a vampire after it has been killed. ” She drained her coffee cup and set it down on the saucer. “Folks…how stupid do you really think I am?”
After almost half a minute of silence, Val said, “Well, well. ”
To which Crow added, “Holy shit. ”
“Okay,” Val said softly, “then what do you think is going on?”
Jonatha shrugged. “It seems pretty clear to me that you all think you have, or possibly had, a vampire here in Pine Deep. ” She arched her eyebrows. “Am I right, Val? Crow?” They said nothing. “And very probably a werewolf, too. ”
Crow opened his mouth to reply, but Val touched his arm. Her eyes bored into Jonatha’s. “What if we were to agree? What would you do if we said that we thought that we were dealing with something supernatural here in Pine Deep?”
“Then,” Jonatha said, “I’d say that you’d better tell me absolutely everything. Everything that’s happened, everything you suspect. ”
“And if we do?”
“First,” she said, “I’d have to believe you. Meaning I’d have to believe that you are telling me all of it and telling me what you believe. ”
“Okay,” Newton said.
“Then I’ll tell you if I think this is over or not. ”
“From the way you’re talking,” Crow said, “it almost sounds like you believe in this stuff. ”
Jonatha didn’t answer. She cut another piece of omelet, speared a piece of grilled potato, dipped it in ketchup, and ate it while staring him right in the eye.
“Tell me first,” she said.
2
“Well…that’s kind of weird. ”
Nurse Emma Childs looked up from the chart on which she had been recording the doctor’s notes. Pen poised above the paper she said, “Excuse me, doctor?”
The young resident, Dr. Pankrit, was bending over Terry Wolfe, gently moving aside bandages in order to examine the man’s lacerations and surgical wounds. “Look at this. I’ve never seen a surgical scar heal that fast. ”
Childs leaned past Pankrit’s shoulder. “Wow. I changed that dressing yesterday. This is wonderful!”
