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Small Town Monsters

7

slippery. Before long, they found him. They came and they took him. They dug up the whole place and found his dinner scraps all over my property.”

Kurt grimaced.

“They tried him and they attempted to kill him. But they didn’t succeed. The only way to kill a werewolf, Mr. McCammus, is to separate the head from the heart.”

Kurt felt the urge to get up and walk away. This was going nowhere. He would give the crazy old coot another minute then he would leave.

Artemus pointed at the book with a gnarled finger. Engraved in gold on the cover was the title, Canis Humanus Lupus: The Cycle And Science Of The Werewolf. “This book will tell you everything you need to know,” Artemus said with deadly calm.

“Why do I need to know anything at all about werewolves?” Kurt asked, not moving to pick up the book.

“Because the cycle has returned—I can feel it. The people of this place are of no consequence to me. But if you have chosen to protect them, then you need to learn your enemy.” Artemus slid the book across the table, closer to Kurt.

Kurt stared down at the leather volume for a moment then up at Artemus. He picked up the book. It felt old and brittle. “So this is good against evil then?” Kurt asked almost sarcastically.

“There is no good nor is there evil. There is only nature. And there is the cycle.”

Kurt had to get out. The air felt heavier by the second—almost unbreathable. “Thank you, Mr. Slade. I will return the book.”

Artemus nodded.

•••

Kurt threw Artemus’s book on the passenger’s seat of his Blazer and began the slow, klunky drive back to DePalma Beach. Law enforcement was a whole different game in the rural world. As a detective in Los Angeles, Kurt had fought crime with pure logic and deduction.