Night Howl by Andrew Neiderman

to time, Sid looked to the floor expectantly, almost as though he believed he would find the dog there.
    But the place on the rug was empty and the doghouse was hollow and threatening, looming out there like some terrifying reminder—the tomb of a vampire, the deserted house of a ghost. He felt like getting up, taking his sledgehammer, and smashing it to bits. He regretted that he would leave tomorrow with it still there. Clara’s story haunted him. Sure, she could have imagined it, just as Bobby could have imagined what he said he had seen. Clara could have been influenced by Bobby’s tale. Adults could be influenced by children. Kids were always planting things in their parents’ minds, things about school and teachers and about other kids.
    And yet, he couldn’t help believing her. Clara wasn’t easily impressed. She was an intelligent and perceptive person who was usually very stable and strong. He remembered the time Lisa had stuck her hand through the storm door window, cutting her wrist dangerously near the artery. Clara had wrapped it quickly, calmed the girl down, and taken her to the emergency room at the hospital, all within half an hour. Afterward, she was mentally exhausted, but he was proud of her. He wondered if he would have been as cool and as organized if it had happened in front of him.
    “You kids should start out for bed,” Clara announced when the commercial came on. Both groaned, but neither put up any real resistance. They were tired. “Come on, I’ll set out your pajamas, Bobby,” Clara said, getting up. Sid watched the three of them go off toward the bathroom and bedrooms. Then he got up and went to the window again. The moon had gone behind some clouds and without it, it was too dark to see anything. Even the silhouettes of trees seemed swallowed by the inky night.
    He thought about the ambulance and the police patrol car and went to the telephone. The dispatcher at the police station was a female. She seemed to know all about him, which was something that impressed Sid.
    “Officer Clark is making the rounds on your street tonight, Mr. Kaufman. He’ll be on his second sweep shortly.”
    “He’s seen nothing?”
    “No sir.”
    “Er, there was an ambulance by here tonight,” Sid began.
    “Yes sir, for Mr. Strasser.”
    “Oh, I thought so. How is he?”
    “I’m afraid he’s dead, sir.”
    “Dead.” It was as though he had been slapped sharply at the back of his head. A mixture of hot and cold traveled down his spine. “How ...”
    “We don’t know any details yet, Mr. Kaufman, and the chief is still up at the hospital.”
    “I see. Thank you,” he said, hanging up the receiver slowly. For a split second he considered calling his boss and getting out of tomorrow’s job, but he really didn’t have any substantial reason for it and he knew how difficult it was to postpone an observation after everyone concerned had been prepared.
    He went back to the living room and then to the kids’ bedrooms when Clara called to tell him they were ready to be kissed good night. He was thankful that Bobby didn’t talk about the dog; his son’s mind was on the surprise Sid had promised to bring him when he returned. Lisa nearly brought him to tears with her remarks.
    “Don’t worry, Daddy,” she said. “I’ll take care of Bobby and keep him from thinking about King.”
    “Good girl.”
    “And Mommy too,” she said. He laughed, but thought how perceptive children really were.
    “I love you, baby,” he said. Clara was waiting in the living room.
    “I heard you on the phone,” she said before he took his seat beside her.
    “You little spy.” He smiled, knowing she sensed trouble.
    “Who were you talking to?”
    “I just checked things out with the police. They’re going to make another sweep down this street soon.”
    “Did you ask about the ambulance?” He hesitated. “You did, didn’t you?”
    “Uh huh.”
    “And?”
    “It was Ken Strasser.” He turned to her.