Wolfsbane by William W. Johnstone Page A

in him with each step. He knocked on the door, listening to someone—or something—scurry about inside the lodge.
    But no one came to the door.
    â€œCome on, Eddiel” Edan’s voice was sharper than he intended. “I hear you in there. Open the door. This is Edan—I want to talk to you.”
    The scurrying, scratching sound had stopped.
    Edan tried the door. Unlocked. Cautiously, he pushed open the door and stuck his head inside.
    He pulled his head back outside much quicker than he had stuck it inside. Sweat beaded the young sheriffs forehead, dripping down his face.
    The scurrying sound had been rats.
    Feeding on the pale bodies of Eddie and Jenny Guilbeau.
    Sheriff Vallot walked back to his car, walking on legs that seemed made of rubber. His booted feet occasionally dragged in the shell driveway.
    He called his office, told them to get in touch with the coroner. And have his chief deputy get out to Eddie Guilbeau’s fishing camp. On the double. And don’t say a damn word about this to anybody!
    â€œYes, sir,” the dispatcher said.
    Sheriff Vallot did not want to, but he forced himself out of his car and unhooked the chain from one post, letting it drop to the driveway. He walked slowly back up to his house. Unconsciously, his fingers touched the amulet hanging around his neck, under his sweat-soaked shirt, hanging from a leather thong. He jerked his fingers from the charm.
    â€œShit, Edan!” he raged at his actions. “You’re getting as bad as an old woman.”
    But before he reached the lodge, he had touched the amulet twice more. And he did not even realize he had done so.

Chapter Seven
    â€œBite marks around the throat,” Doctor Lormand said. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Edan.”
    â€œIs that the cause of death, Don?” the sheriff asked.
    The two men were the same age. The best of friends. They had gone to high school together and then on to college, remaining friends while Edan was on the sheriffs department and Don was interning at a New Orleans hospital.
    â€œThat’s part of it,” Doctor Lormand said, hedging the question.
    â€œI don’t need part of it, Don.”
    The doctor looked up at his friend. “They . . . don’t appear to have any blood on them.” He rose from his hasty examination.
    â€œWhat the hell happened to it? There isn’t that much blood on the floor.”
    The doctor shrugged.
    â€œWhat attacked them, then?”
    â€œDogs, I should imagine,” Don replied, but he did not sound very convincing.
    â€œAnd then drank the blood!” Edan almost shouted.
    â€œWhat the hell do you want from me?” his friend yelled. “Goddamn, Edan—I don’t know! Someone with a very sick mind, perhaps. How about that for a theory? What do you want me to say?”
    The two friends glared at each other for a few seconds; then both of them relaxed, ashamed at their outbursts.
    â€œOkay, Don—tell me what kind of animal would suck the blood from its victims.”
    Doctor Lormand said nothing.
    â€œNow, I’m no medical person, Don, but I can tell all those bites on their necks didn’t happen at the same time. Some of them look older than the others. Will you—can you—explain that?”
    â€œI wouldn’t even try at this stage, Edan.” He knelt down by the bodies and picked up several strands of coarse hair. He put them in an envelope.
    â€œHuman?” Edan asked.
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œDogs didn’t do this, Don.”
    The doctor rose and met his friend’s eyes. “Then you tell me what did?”
    â€œCan you come by the house this evening? ’Bout seven?”
    â€œSure. What’s up?”
    â€œWe’ll talk this evening. Maybe cook some beef. Okay?”
    â€œAll right.”
    Both young men were bachelors.
    Doctor Lormand looked closely at his friend’s neck. “What the hell is that