People began to whisper. Old Mrs. Gable claimed she saw a figure in a long coat pacing the trail after sunset. Teenagers swore they heard whistling—a cheerful, tuneless melody—coming from the deep brush near the creek. The police called it a prank. Arthur wasn’t so sure.
I have Waffles. Meet me at the old bandshell. Midnight. Come alone. No police. the park maniac
Footsteps.
Arthur looked up. It had started to drizzle. People began to whisper