Free The Howling II by Gary Brandner

He turned to smile at Karyn. “We might decide to go out dancing somewhere after dinner.”
    Karyn returned his smile.
    “I won’t wait up, then,” Mrs. Jensen said.
    “You’ll see that Joey gets to bed on time?” Karyn said.
    Mrs. Jensen gave her a brief smile that said she had been taking care of Joey before Karyn got there, and could handle it very well now, thank you.
    David gave Karyn his arm, and they followed the flagstone walk around to the garage. Halfway there, Karyn pulled up. Had she seen something move in that white Ford parked up the block? Whose car was that, anyway. She was sure it did not belong to any of the neighbors.
    “Is something wrong?” David said.
    “Nooo,” she said slowly. Then more emphatically. “No. I just caught my heel on the edge of the stone. Let’s go.”
    There was nothing moving in the white car now. Probably she had imagined it. The Ford most likely belonged to someone visiting the neighbors. No point in mentioning it to David and getting their evening off to an uncomfortable start.
    *****
    Mrs. Jensen watched from the doorway as the Richters drove off. It was high time they had an evening out together, she thought. Much of the time she felt Mr. Richter worked too hard. And Mrs. Richter, well, she had her own problems. She closed the door and went inside.
    She let Joey stay up to watch “Charlie’s Angels,” which he said he enjoyed because of the pretty girls. Mrs. Jensen left him to enjoy the girls alone while she went to her own room to watch an old Bette Davis movie on another channel. At ten o’clock she sent Joey up to bed, ignoring his pleas to watch “Baretta.” When the boy was tucked in, Mrs. Jensen resumed watching her movie on the larger set in the Richters’ family room.
    The movie ended and the eleven o’clock news came on. Mrs. Jensen got up and switched off the set. They never had anything but riots and killings and plane crashes on the news. Mrs. Jensen figured there was enough violence and unhappiness in a person’s everyday life without watching film of it every night on the news before you went to bed. She went back to the little bathroom off her room and began brushing out her hair.
    At eleven-thirty, wearing a clean flannel nightgown and with her hair in rollers, she climbed into bed. Sometimes she watched Johnny Carson for an hour or so until she got sleepy, but tonight she was too tired.
    Mrs. Jensen closed her eyes and lay warm and cozy under the down comforter
    she’d brought with her when she came to work for Mr. Richter. Finding this job after her husband died had been a blessing. She had no other family, and really needed someone to take care of. The house here and Joey were enough to keep her busy, but not more than she could comfortably handle.
    She had assumed a sort of housemother position for the man and the boy, which worked out well for all three. When Mr. Richter married his new wife he hastened to assure Mrs. Jensen that her place in the household was secure. Nevertheless, Mrs. Jensen at first had misgivings about the new Mrs. Richter. The slim, pretty blonde from California had seemed too young and unsettled for Mr. Richter. Also, having no children of her own, how was she going to get along with Joey?
    As it happened, everything worked out fine. The new Mrs. Richter had turned out to be a lot more mature and sensible than she looked, and she and the boy had taken to each other instantly. And if Mrs. Richter was a tiny touch nervous sometimes, well, that only made Mrs. Jensen feel more useful.
    She rolled over onto her back and cleared her mind of all daytime thoughts in’ preparation for going to sleep.
    A shadow passed her window.
    Mrs. Jensen sat up in bed and stared at the drawn blind.
    Nothing.
    And yet there had been something. Just outside. She held her breath and listened.
    Nothing.
    But something had been there, all right. Olivia Jensen was not the kind of woman who imagined shadows in the night. She got up and pulled