Bright Moon Read online

  “Maybe in a few months we’ll be able to have a dog, but I don’t think now is the right time to bring it up again.”

  “Well, he can’t say ‘no’ forever.”

  Clara bit her lip and nodded, holding back the truth of the matter. Her father would never allow for any kind of pet, no matter how she begged. Her mother had been severely allergic to dogs and cats and the subject would only awaken fresh pain in him, pain that would drag him into the pit of depression which he struggled to climb from.

  “I had better finish with Duke,” she said and tugged at the leash to pry him from the small pack. A path had been constructed around the perimeter of the property when the place was remodeled. It was not a very long path and the chain link fence surrounded by tall shrubs made for dull scenery, but the dogs never seemed to mind. She tried to ensure each animal she exercised went at least four laps around. True to her word, she hurried to help with the larger breeds after returning Duke. Most of them were oversized, undertrained, hyperactive puppies that nearly tore her arm from her socket after she managed to slip the lead over their heads. Lunch break was upon her by the time she finished.

  In the frenzy of the morning, she’d forgotten to pack the usual peanut butter and jelly and opted for fast food instead. When she returned to work, she found Mark’s truck absent from the lot and felt a stab of disappointment. The time came to clock out and she hated how she missed his friendly smile and cheerful goodbye to close the day.

  Her car miraculously survived the trip home, but it seemed her day would go from mediocre to worse. Her house key normally hung on a ring at the lip of her purse. The leather band that held it in place was completely torn free as if it had caught on something without her noticing. What was worse, her father might not return from work for a few hours. A thorough search of her car produced no key and she was deliberating her chances of finding it at work when her dad’s car rounded the corner. His vehicle lurched angrily into the driveway, nearly colliding with her car.

  “You parked too close to the middle again,” was the first thing he said while stepping out.

  “I’m…sorry,” Clara said, trying to bite back agitation. “Bad day at work?”

  “Can’t a man come home and find his parking space clear? What are you doing out here anyway?”

  “Nothing, I was just...looking for my house keys.”

  “Don’t tell me you lost them again?”

  She was nervously twisting her hair around her finger by this time, trying to keep her cool. “My bag tore,” she said and held up her purse as evidence. “I looked in my car, but they’re not there. I’ll check work in the morning.”

  “Why don’t you keep them on the same ring as your car key?” The question stung. She had kept the keys separated in high school when she and Callan shared the car. She’d never wanted to admit to herself that he might never use it again. “I hope you find it, I don’t want to pay to change the locks again.”

  “I can pay for it.”

  Tim fished a briefcase from his car. Yanking it out, he slammed the door with enough force to make her jump. “It’s not about the money, it’s the principle of the matter! Do you know the hassle changing the locks causes?”

  “I’ll find the keys, dad,” she muttered through her teeth. Instead of looking relieved, Tim sighed and was about to say something when a truck rumbled around the corner, one she knew and was surprised to see, especially when it stopped in front of her house. The driver’s door popped open and Mark stepped out, coming around the hood to them.

  “Hey, Clara,” he said, extending a hand toward her, the keys dangling from his forefinger. “I think these are yours, did you lose some keys?”

  “Yes!” she breathed and stepped toward him, taking the keys gratefully. “Thank you so much for finding them! Where were they?”

  “The craziest thing happened! I had to go back to my office and they were by the break-room door.”

  “I didn’t notice they were gone until a moment ago, thank you again!”

  “It wasn’t a problem. You must be Mr. Rita,” he said, offering a hand to her father.

  “And you are?” Tim asked coldly with a skeptical look at Mark’s hand.

  “Dad, this is Mark Crow, my boss.”

  “And how does he know where you live?” he asked. Horrified, Clara sucked in air and held it.

  “I actually had to refer to her file. Dynol said they were most likely yours and I thought you might be locked out.” Mark’s voice was even and he maintained a thin smile. Tim looked from Clara to Mark and back.

  “I think I understand what’s going on,” he said in an undertone. “How long have you been seeing him?”

  “Dad!” she exclaimed. “We aren’t—”

  “Don’t lie to me! You should be ashamed you lied this long.” Tim turned to Mark, whose face had gone blank. “How long have you been seeing my daughter?”

  Mark held up his hands defensively. “I only wanted to return the keys.”

  “Well, now you have. You would do well to keep away from my daughter, do we have an understanding?”

  “Dad, please don’t do this,” she said and touched his arm. He shrugged her off.

  “Say goodbye to Mr. Crow and I will discuss this further with you inside.”

  While her face came to life with flames of embarrassment, the corners of Mark’s lips twitched. He chewed his cheek before speaking. “Mr. Rita, your daughter is a wonderful girl, but you have this all wrong. I found the keys on the floor at work. A coworker, Dynol, was there and can tell you just how I found them as well. Clara and I have not been…seeing one another.”

  “Well, I certainly hope not!” Tim said and turned briskly, stomping toward the house.

  “Mark, I’m so sorry,” she whispered before her father had even stepped inside. Mark watched him with a frown.

  “Is he always so very engaging?”

  She laughed shortly, relieved Mark did not appear as traumatized as she felt.

  “Please don’t feel embarrassed. I know he’s hurting, I’ve heard about your mother.”

  “He…has not been the same since she died. I don’t think he ever will be.”

  “It’s a lot of pain to carry,” Mark said with an understanding nod.

  “Thank you for being so thoughtful and coming all this way.”

  “Listen, Clara, I know your dad is going through a rough time, but I don’t think he remembers you are too. How are things?” Mark’s sharp brown eyes met hers and she wanted to share with him how lonely and betrayed she felt. The words faltered at her mouth.

  “Things are bad, but they are what they are. I get by and, sooner or later, I’ll leave.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Yes, hopefully sooner rather than later. I…” he stroked the stubble of his chin and glanced to the front door as if in fear of Tim making another appearance. “I admit the idea of us having a relationship outside of work is not a new one to me.”

  Her heart skipped and her cheeks flamed anew, a bit more pleasantly this time. “Mark, I—”

  “I know, things are rough. Just know I am here if you ever need someone to talk to, or an excuse to leave your house.”

  “Thank you, really…that means a lot,” she said quietly.

  “Well, I had better get going before your father lets me have it again.”

  “I truly am very sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine. Remember, if you need anything, let me know.”

  She nodded and he went to his truck. As she turned toward her house, she thought she heard him chuckling.

  The next morning, she woke with nerves cramping her stomach. She could not decide if she should call in sick to work or not, but time made the decision for her when she continually failed to call and leave a message on Mark’s phone. His truck was not there when she parked her car. Dynol had already unlocked the employee entrance and was in the back, filing adoption papers. Luckily, she was alone when she opened her metal locker to toss her purse in. A folded sli
p of white paper had been pushed inside and stood out against the dark grey paint. The smooth paper made the only sound in the grayscale break room as she unfolded it to reveal a note scrawled in a quick hand.

  Forgive me, Clara, but there is something I must ask of you. I have landed myself in some trouble and don’t know another person I can ask for help. It would mean everything if you could meet me after work. I can’t explain things now, but I will then. I know you will not fail me. You have always been a good friend. I would ask one more thing of you, please take care to keep this a secret.

  Thank you,

  Mark

  The tension that hung in the air changed when Dynol entered and she shoved the slip of paper back in her locker before slamming the door with a clang. He raised a brow at her, but said nothing of the matter.

  “Hey, Clare,” he said. “I didn’t know Mark would be off today, do you know where he is?”

  “How would I know?” she asked too defensively. Dynol shrugged.

  “I only wondered because he usually lets us know before he takes a day off.”

  Clara frowned as worry ate her stomach. She composed herself and clocked in, going to clean the cat kennels. Wearing rubber gloves and armed with a litter scoop, she began the daunting process. The little fuzzy occupants did little to distract her from the concerning nature of Mark’s note. Aside from the new worry, her day went by as any other. She completed her tasks as the hours wore on. She was clocking out when Dynol and Maria came into the break room.

  “Have you heard from Mark?” Maria asked, her dark eyes alive with worry.

  “No,” Clara said with a shake of her head. “He never called the front desk?”

  “Not while I was there. Maybe he had a family emergency or something.”

  They headed for the door and Dynol stopped at the hall. “Are you coming Clare?”

  “I…was going to check my email real quick,” she lied to stall for time.

  “Okay, well, we’ll see you tomorrow then,” Maria said with a smile.

  Clara went to the terminal at the front desk. She technically wasn’t supposed to open her email at work, but she wasn’t working and no one paid attention to the rule anyway. She really only needed a reason to stay without seeming suspicious. There wasn’t anything but junk in the inbox folder and she was about to wipe it clean when the subject line of one email made her stop with her eyes glued to the unfamiliar email address. The subject’s title was her mother’s first and last name. Something of that nature had never happened before—nobody mistook her for her mother. Yet, it was the only solution she could imagine as she paused with her finger poised over the mouse.

  Images of a virus attacking the work computer made her hesitate, but curiosity won out. The message consisted of a single blue link pasted at the top of the page. For the second time, she hesitated then clicked the link. A new window opened to a small square of video that showed a disturbing scene. The camera’s angle was shot from above and she couldn’t see the woman very well. Her back was to the lens and she lay on a thin mattress. A woman was obviously being portrayed as a prisoner. The cell she was in was dim and grungy.

  Shuddering at what people could be entertained by, she was about to close the window when the woman shifted to her side and Clara could see her face. Her brain immediately recognized the profile as that of her mother’s and her heart skipped. She took a shuddering breath and closed the stream as fast as she could. Someone had a sick sense of humor—a twisted, evil, sick sense of humor. She deleted the email and blocked the sender. Shaken, she had no desire to stay alone in the shelter and peaked outside to make sure Maria and Dynol had really gone so she could exit the building.

  The lot was empty besides her little beat up sedan. She crossed the linoleum floor to the doors, eager to forget the image that burned in her mind. The sunlight gleamed off the plastic plants by the entryway. Making sure the doors were locked before she stepped into the day, she resolved to sit on the hood of her car to wait. The sun had sunk low in the afternoon sky when his orange truck tore into the parking lot. She recognized Mark’s vehicle, but not his driving. The tires ground on the asphalt when it stopped with a jolt. He pushed his door open and came to her with a sense of urgency.

  “Thank you,” he said quickly. He looked very relieved. “Thank you so much for meeting me!”

  “You’re welcome, but what’s wrong?” she asked as she eased off her car.

  “Come with me,” he said and pulled her toward his truck. She stopped and pulled from his grip.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I could explain, but that would waste time I don’t have. Will you trust me?”

  Clara’s stomach knotted sickeningly as she studied his pleading face. “Alright, I’ll go with you.”

  “You are wonderful, Clara! Thank you!” he said and ushered her toward his truck once more. She found herself sitting in the passenger seat, unsure of how to respond to being called wonderful. He appeared in the driver’s seat and revved the engine. The truck shot out of the lot and sped down the road.

  “Be careful,” she warned. “You’re going to get pulled over.”

  “I won’t get pulled over,” he said with a laugh. “Will you help me out? There is a silver coin in the ash tray, will you put it in my shirt pocket?”

  She checked for the coin and did as he asked. He drove his truck down the few main roads of the small town before directing it toward the mountain where the trees were the thickest.

  “Mark, where are we going?”

  “It’s kind of a surprise,” he said and flashed a smile.

  “You made it sound like an emergency,” she said and her eyebrows puckered.

  “I suppose it could be viewed that way,” he responded and pressed the gas harder. She didn’t like the sudden hard look in his eyes.

  “I want you to take me back,” she said while glancing down the road as if the next bend would reveal their destination.

  “Hey, sugar, don’t get all uptight now,” he laughed.

  “Mark,” she said under her breath. “I thought you were in trouble.”

  “Yes, ‘trouble’ is correct,” he agreed with a nod of his head. The sky was ever darkening. Faint hues of indigo around the horizon were the only traces of the sun and stars began to dot the sky. Mark turned down a dirt road surrounded by thick vegetation.

  “Take me back,” she demanded a second time after the truck bounced through a dip. He didn’t respond and they drove in silence. They took another turn down a small road and the vehicle lurched to a stop minutes later. He was out and popped her door open before she could get a feel of their surroundings. She shrank back when he reached inside.

  “Come on, we’re here,” he said and smiled again.

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” she said with wide eyes.

  “Have I ever mistreated you?” he asked, leaning against the open door.

  “No, but you’ve never dragged me out to the mountains either.”

  “You aren’t afraid, are you?”

  She paused when he offered his hand again. She let him help her down. The truck door slammed and the bang drifted into the clear night. The crisp air held hints of autumn. They stood in a clearing shroud in shadow and it was oddly silent. She heard a snarl and growls coming from the opposite end of the truck. She jumped in alarm.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked, standing closer to Mark.

  “That would be your surprise,” he said. He grabbed her hand and dragged her around the truck to proudly reveal four huge boxes—one lined alongside the other—draped with tarps. One of the boxes rocked from side to side and another snarl erupted. Clara dug her feet into the soft, giving earth when Mark advanced toward them. He left her and pulled the tarps off each box, wadding them up and tossing them aside. The boxes actually turned out to be large kennels from the shelter. She couldn’t see in them, but wasn’t about to go closer.

  “What do you have in there?” she asked in a whisper. Fear cre
pt up her arms and legs.

  “Wolves,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He tapped the plastic top of the nearest cage and a snarl resulted. “You see,” he continued. “I have a long standing spat with my brother and I’m afraid it will only be resolved by you.”

  “I don’t know your brother.”

  “I want you to understand that this isn’t personal. Unfortunately for you, my brother has impeccable taste.”

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded as he moved around the front of the kennel and loosened the latch. “Don’t let them out!”

  “I would run if I were you,” was his only response. He shifted to the second kennel and the spring popped. The wire door swung slowly and a dark lump moved within. Wild eyes reflected the light before the snout of a wolf grew from shadow. The snout drew into a snarl and rumbling growls tumbled from its chest. Clara’s pulsing heart was in her throat when the animal zeroed in on her.

  “Mark?” she whispered and her voice shook uncontrollably.

  “Seriously, sugar, they’ve been trained to attack your scent. I would run.”

  That was the last warning she needed. She turned and ran toward the road. Adrenaline pushed her to run faster than she knew was possible. The snarls were getting closer. The darkness hindered her steps as she picked her way through the shadows of the trees. Everything went by in a flash as her legs pumped harder and harder. “No!” she screamed when she glimpsed a wolf running parallel to her. Another scream burst from her throat as she exerted all the energy she could summon, unfortunately it was not enough. She hadn’t reached the dirt road Mark had turned down when a wolf attacked from her right. She fell and it tore at the hem of her jeans. She kicked its face and scrambled to her feet, only able to run two steps before another pounced on her back, tearing into her shirt and pulling her hair. The first wolf jerked at her pants with his teeth. She screamed and tried to kick him off. His teeth sank around her shoe and she flipped over in effort to throw off the one on her back. The other two came from the darkness and there was nothing she could do but curl into a ball and cover her head with her arms.