The sheriffs car pulled up outside 2117 Westglenn Lane in front of an English Tudor house and glided to a stop, the tires sliding on a thick layer of brightly colored leaves forming a small arboreal drift against the curb. A small gnome held a sign proclaiming this to be the abode of The Stillmans. Shutting off the ignition and exiting the car, Sheriff Stanley Broils was an unassuming figure, average height, average build...he kept his job as chief peace keeper by being unwaveringly reasonable and fair.
Heck, he even made house calls.
Evening was getting on but the crisp October air had only a slight nip in it. As he walked through the yard, heading around back (he was expected) he thought about the reason for his visit; over the previous few nights several neighborhood pets, mostly cats but two dogs as well, had disappeared. The locals thought a pet-napper was responsible until several carcasses were discovered, virtually shredded. Then last night Mr. Patterson from next door, out for a late-night walk saw (he claimed) the Stillmans' dog returning home, alone.
As he rounded the corner to the back yard, Sheriff Broils saw the family seated at their patio table; Hal Stillman with his back to him, talking to his wife Christine who was tending to their two-year old son Joshua (bundled up comfortably in his buggy). Ryan, their teenage son, was sitting slightly apart from his family, an unblinking fish-like stare focused on some sort of electronic device in his hands.
As he walked up Broils started making mental notes...
Fence intact, no visible holes dug underneath, dog resting in the corner near the house, a smudge of mud on the doggie door, hard to be sure at this distance...
"Sheriff! Welcome, have a seat."
"Evening Hal, Christine. Please, call me Stan; I'm off duty now."
"You're never off duty. Can we get you anything, coffee maybe?"
"No, thank you; this shouldn't take too long..."
"You come here to shoot our dog...?"
"Ryan!"
"It's alright Christine. I'm only here because your neighbor saw what he thought was your dog returning home, unattended, last night." This would have been directed at Ryan, but he had already returned to Zombie Videogame Player Mode.
Sheriff Broils produced a small notebook and set it down on a side table, though he had no plans on entering any information into it; he didn't even have a pen with him.
"As I said, this won't take long, but since a complaint was lodged by Mr. Patterson I have to make this inquiry."
"Look, sheriff, I don't know how to prove something that I'm sure didn't happen. Checkers there has a bad leg, he can't jump over this fence, we never leave the gate open and even though he's too big for the dog door in the kitchen, he's never out of this yard by himself. The only thing I can tell you is that we'll keep him on the chain overnight until the real perpetrator is caught."
"Well, given the dearth of leads at the moment I'd say that's a fine idea. Look, there's really nothing to be done right now, I just wanted to let you know the situation"
The two men got up while Mrs. Stillman looked after Joshua, who was now awake and quietly burbling to himself.
"Well, I hate that you came out here for nothing."
"Not at all. It's a nice night and I had some free time. Well, I'll be seeing you folks. 'Night Hal, Christine. See ya later, Ryan!"
"Uh-huh..."
***
Back at his car, with the reflection of the full moon on his windshield shinning in his face, Sheriff Broils thought it was time to go back for the notebook he "forgot"; he was of the mind that it was best to try and catch suspects (even just potential suspects) unawares if possible, when their guard was down.
As he rounded the corner once more he stopped in his tracks. He couldn't believe his eyes; Mrs. Stillman had Joshua out of his buggy and was putting a leash around his neck! He started towards them when the baby started to convulse, but he stopped again and just stared. Over the next minute or so, amid horrible cracking and rending noises the baby transformed into a small but very wicked-looking beast, more wolf than dog, and certainly no trace of human.
Christine, an expression of helpless concern on her face, stroked this...werewolf cub...while Hal addressed the dumbstruck officer.
"We...we didn't know what to do...what to say; I mean, what do you say...", he waved his hand aimlessly at Joshua. "We kept him inside, of course, but we forgot about the doggie door..."
Sheriff Broils sat down and picked up his notebook.
"Anybody have a pen?"