Free Peak Road - A Short Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries Book 10) by Victor Methos

even remember their transformations or how they behaved. I saw a video once in graduate school of someone with clinical lycanthropy who tore apart a bed with his teeth and then a few hours later asked what had happened to the bed.” I paused. “That’s what you thought twenty years ago. You’re not still thinking it now, are you?”
    “I don’t know. If Gillian Hanks believes in psychics, who am I to question werewolves? You believe in God and the devil. Is this really so far out there from that?”
    “It’s different.”
    “Why? Thousands of people throughout time have said they’ve seen werewolves.”
    “It’s a method of explaining something we can’t understand. They didn’t know about serial murder in the Middle Ages. Werewolves were used to explain the torn corpses the villagers sometimes found. You can’t seriously believe in this, Mickey.”
    “I’m just doing thought experiments to cover every angle. I’m not saying we should go out and buy silver bullets. I think the guy already attacked us, so we know it’s a man. Whether the full moon does anything to him, I don’t know. Whatever it is, it would probably be psychological.”
    We finished eating then decided we needed to see if Mickey’s original suspect still lived in the town. We ran a check on him, but his information ended in 1999. After that, there was nothing to indicate he was even alive—no address, phone number, place of employment, or even credit inquiries.
    Mickey drove through town until he came to an old mechanic’s shop. A car was up on the lift, and a man in dirty overalls was working on it. We approached him. He ignored us and continued working on the car, even when we stood right in front of him.
    “Hello, Earl,” Mickey said.
    Earl Kaiser was a big man with a belly that tightened his overalls. His hands were caked in grease, and his fingernails were black. He put down his tools and grabbed a rag. Wiping his hands, he approached us.
    “You again? I thought I was done with you.”
    “Been a long time.”
    He stuffed the rag into his back pocket. “What you want, Agent Parsons?”
    “You still remember my name. I’m impressed.”
    “Hard to forget the man that accused you of killin’ two families. What you want now? Come to blame the Noels on me, too?”
    Mickey put his hands in his pockets. “You were the only sex offender in town. And the way you raped that girl, biting her cheek like that—you have to admit, you looked good for it.”
    “Shit, that girl wanted it rough. And we were both drunk and high. Don’t mean nothin’. I actually seen her again few years back, and the stupid bitch said we should hang out sometime. You believe that? Ruined my life and thought I’d be happy to see her.”
    Mickey looked over the shop. “You seem to be doing all right in life.”
    “I am.”
    “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve fallen off the grid. How’d that happen?”
    He shook his head. “Government, man. They reading your texts and emails. They planting things in your house… I ain’t got nothing for you fuckers to find. No official address, I don’t get mail, and I don’t use the phone except here. I don’t have nothin’ for you to find. I’m off the registry now ’cause my charges was reduced. I ain’t got nothin’ for you.”
    “Seems lonely, Earl. Being off the grid like that.”
    He shrugged, spitting onto the concrete. “Is what it is. So I’m gonna ask you one more time, then I gotta get back to work. What you want?”
    “I don’t suppose I need to ask you where you were when the Noels were killed.”
    “No, you don’t. I was at home. My neighbors can tell you I rolled up after work, seven o’clock, and was home the entire night till I left the next mornin’. That’s the truth.”
    Mickey nodded. “You know what would really help? If I could search your house. That would really help calm my mind, and you want me to be calm. Don’t you, Earl?”
    “You ain’t searchin’ shit. You