Unable to say Ed's name, Jack rasped, “It's my neighbor.”
After soliciting a promise from Shawhan to send backup, Jack ended the call.
Vividly, he remembered Laura saying, “Please, Daddy, no!”
As he dashed out of the dining room into his front hall, he told the sisters, “No need to lock up! Just let yourselves out!” He rushed out his front door, shouting, “And thanks!”
Jack lived on East 5th Street, in a residential neighborhood twelve blocks east of downtown Middleridge. Mailboxes and old maple trees lined the sidewalk next to the street, casting short and tall shadows. Lamp poles bathed the rows of two-story houses in pale orange light.
His gun leading the way, Jack hurried off his own property, onto the Eaton's front lawn.
Tasting chicken from The Red Brick House, Jack remembered all that sweaty weight on top of him— Ed's weight.
Thoughts zipped through his head at twice their usual speed. He knew Ed had a large basement, which included an enclosed workshop where he kept all his tools. Jack imagined Laura locked up down there, not twenty yards from where Jack sleeps.
Worried for Joanie too, he suddenly remembered what Ed said earlier about his wife being doped up on Valium all the time. He wondered, Is that what he's got Laura on?
After hurrying up the five steps onto Ed's front porch, Jack hesitated. He knew he should wait for backup. Obviously, Ed was not only deranged, he was dangerous.
Fearing for Laura, Jack kicked in the Eaton's front door.
He didn't bother calling out any names.
The house was dark but he knew where the light switches were. Instead of heading upstairs to the bedrooms— where he hoped Joanie was snuggled up safe in bed— Jack crept through the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, flipping on lights as he went. In the back laundry room, he opened the door that led to the basement stairs.
Below, the light was already on.
Jack charged down the basement steps, trying to look everywhere at once, fearful Ed might be hiding behind the furnace.
Unconsciously biting his lower lip, the Sheriff crept over to the room where Ed kept his power tools. He put his ear up against the door and heard nothing (especially no cries from Laura.) His heart sinking fast, Jack kicked in the door.
He was so startled by what he saw, he nearly shot it.
Surrounded by Black and Decker products, Joanie Eaton hung from the ceiling, a handmade noose around her neck. Her wrists were tied together behind her back. She was dressed in plain pink pajamas. One foot was bare; the other was wearing both a sock and a fuzzy yellow slipper. Her eyes were open, bulging, and permanently glazed with the pain and terror of being slowly strangled.
Jack remembered telling Ed on the phone that his new informant was a woman.
At the time, he had no inkling he was talking to the Cornfield Killer. Only now, in retrospect, did he realize he was directly responsible for Joanie's murder.
Jack's knees went weak. He stumbled, then slumped against the wall, unable to take his eyes off Joanie. He bawled, both sad and mad at his own stupidity. I'm sorry, Joanie, he thought. I didn't know! I didn't mean to get you killed!
He recalled telling Ed that the Cornfield Killer ate at The Red Brick House. He imagined Ed knowing that Joanie knew where he ate.
He imagined his best friend stringing his wife up by the neck.
Jack was still crying ten minutes later when his deputies found him.
******
When the Suits arrived at the crime scene and questioned him, Sheriff Carver told more lies. Jack claimed to have realized Ed was the killer because of something he let slip when they spoke last night on the phone.
Agent Creasey wanted to know, “What was it he said that made you suspicious?”
Jack's imagination failed him. Unable to concoct a credible lie, he answered, “I can't say exactly. It was the way he sounded, I guess.”
Coopersmith gave him a dubious look. “How did he sound, exactly?”
“Remorseful. Guilty. Scared.” This was how Jack felt.
The Suits didn't press him any further.
The connections that previously eluded the investigators were now obvious.
Paula Shepherd was Joanie Eaton's hairdresser.
The other three women— Diana Humphries, Carla Johnson, and Julia Kendall— were all Ed's patients.
Further, all the farms where the bodies were dumped— all those families also went to Doctor Eaton. (Later, Herb Livergood's oldest son, Johnny, would distinctly remember Ed questioning him about the layout of their family's farm, while waiting for the anesthetic to kick in before Johnny's root canal.)
At one point, when Jack realized he still didn't know where Ed was holed up, he thought of the Sensora sisters. He slipped back over to his house, only to discover they had already left. He kicked himself in the ass for leaving them so abruptly. He had no way of contacting them. And he now believed he was going to need them yet again.
He had so many regrets. At numerous times during the night, he had to fight off more tears.
At just past 4:00 a.m., as the county coroner was finishing up, at the prompting of Coopersmith and Creasey, Jack provided more information about the Cornfield Killer/his best friend, including the fact the Eatons owned a small houseboat kept docked at Freddy's Marina, on Bullet Lake.
After waking Judge Carlson and quickly obtaining a search warrant, Jack led an expedition to the boat. Nearly two hours were wasted. Nothing of significance was found.
As the sun rose on new day, having been up all night, the Suits and Jack's men argued about whether or not to release Ed's identity to the media. Deputy Trojanowski brought up how John Allen Muhammad and John Lee Malvo— the snipers who terrorized the east coast back in 2002— were captured just hours after their identities were made public. Agent Creasy then pointed out that Muhammad and Malvo didn't have a captured woman in their custody at the time.
The worry was that if Ed knew the jig was up, he would kill Laura, then himself.
Deputy Lortz pointed out, “He may have already done that, for all we know.”
Jack said virtually nothing. All the confidence he felt yesterday had bled away.
Eventually Coopersmith made the decision to delay telling the world the true identity of the Cornfield Killer.
In the middle of the afternoon, Jack finally caught a nap in his office. He slept fitfully, plagued by bad dreams.
That night, as the sun set on the city of Middleridge, Indiana, Doctor Edward Eaton DDS remained at large.
******
Jack's microwave dinner sat untouched on his kitchen table. A mostly consumed bottle of whiskey in his hand, he paced relentlessly, unable to sit still. Repeatedly he prayed to God that the Sensora sisters would return tonight at the regular time.
Not that he had much hope any more.
Jack now pessimistically believed this ordeal would end with still more death.
As the clock cuckooed midnight, he opened his front door, even before Clara knocked.
He was enormously relieved to see the sisters had returned.
******
Finally: sight!
And yet, when he finally saw as Laura, what he saw filled him with despair.
Her eyes barely open, for five interminably long minutes, she just stared at the ceiling.
He could tell she was in a basement or some kind of cellar. A naked light-bulb hung from above.
But he saw nothing else, nothing that could tell him where Laura was...
And yet he did sense something familiar, even before she finally turned her head.
The-Jack-inside-Laura found himself looking at himself.
The photograph was taken at one of the happiest moments of Jack's life. It was back when he was still married to Janet, back before things went sour between them. Jack was pictured holding up a ten-pound largemouth bass, the Big One that didn't get away. He was wearing a pair of bib-overalls, his hair was a fright, and he was grinning ear-to
-ear.
The photograph was taken by Ed just before the turn of the millennium.
It belonged in Jack's cabin beside Bullet Lake.
Jack realized it was now hanging on a wall in the storm cellar behind that cabin.
Ed—completely naked— reached his hands down and pulled Laura's face up so she was looking at him.
The Cornfield Killer smiled down at his daughter/victim before he began kissing her.
Jack severed the connection.
He knew where they were.
******
He didn't make the same mistake he did last night. Before dashing out of his house, he asked Clara, “When this is all over, how will I get in contact with you?”
“We'll contact you, Sheriff.”
He hesitated and Clara said, “Go. Save the girl's life.”
As he left, Jack did pause just long enough to say, “Thank you.” He shifted eye contact from one sister to the next. “For everything.”
Lucia smiled. “This is going to be a great place to live.”
Jack put the women behind him, both literally and figuratively. Rushing to his cruiser, he drove the twelve blocks from his house to the station. He didn't run with his siren on but he employed his lights as he raced downtown.
He knew he should have backup but he had every intention of doing this alone.
He didn't plan on arresting Ed.
At the station, he retrieved a 12-gauge teargas gun and numerous canisters. He used the station's back door and didn't have to explain much to Shawhan.
Driving west out of Middleridge, speeding to over 100 mph, Jack turned on his siren. Five minutes later, when he saw moonlight on shimmering waters, he turned it off.
His window was rolled down and Jack could both smell and hear the lake. Bullfrogs in the bulrushes rah-rumped and honked, joining the vast night chorus of crickets and cicadas.
As he turned right off County Road 360 North, onto a rough gravel lane beside Bullet Lake, he extinguished his flashing lights. He drove a curvy, winding course until he eventually arrived at the cabin built by his great-great-grandfather.
It was a secluded spot, nestled between groups of trees, with the nearest neighbor over a quarter of a mile away. This cabin was the setting of some of Jack's fondest childhood memories. Now— as he pulled up in front of the old summerhouse and parked— he realized this was the perfect location to commit murder.
Jack donned his gas mask, loaded a couple canisters into his teargas gun, and exited his vehicle.
It was a bright night; the moon was nearly full. He had no difficulty seeing.
Cautiously, quickly, he circled the cabin, scanning the windows for any sign of life. He didn't see any. Everything inside was dark.
In the back yard, he was staggered by a familiar scent and when he saw the old lilac bush, almost directly beside the entrance to the storm cellar, he remembered smelling that same fragrance when Clara Sensora gave him access to Laura's nose.
Seeing the padlock on the cellar door was missing, Jack knew Ed was still inside.
Thinking about shooting a man he had known (and loved) for better than twenty-five years caused Jack to choke up. Then, suddenly, he was enraged-- furious at Ed, furious at himself, furious at the wicked, awful world. Instead of pausing to rein in his emotions, he allowed his anger to spur him into action.
Sheriff Carver threw open the cellar door, aimed his rifle down the stairs, and shot two canisters of tear gas. He then dropped the teargas gun and pulled his revolver. Unconsciously holding his breath, he charged down the stairs.
He heard them coughing— both Ed and Laura (she's still alive!)
His footfalls were stomping loud on the stairs, nearly as noisy as his tromping heart.
The lighting was dim; the smoke was thick; and, at first, Jack didn't see his quarry. He rushed forward, gun raised, until he finally spotted a figure in the fog.
Tears streaming down his face, Sheriff Jack Carver crept forward, asking his best friend, “Why, Ed? Why?”
Somehow, through his hacking, Edward Eaton still managed to whine, “She made me do it, Jack! She made me!”
Enraged, roaring like a wounded grizzly bear, the sheriff opened fire on the dentist, emptying his gun.
Four of the six bullets struck Ed. Of those four, one hit him squarely in the nose, flattening it, before annihilating his brains.
The Cornfield Killer dropped dead to the floor.
A single sob escaped Jack's throat, only to be trapped inside his gas mask.
For a moment he just stood there, stunned. Then, hearing Laura's continuous coughing, he holstered his gun and went to rescue the sole surviving member of the Eaton family.
Seeing her on the folding metal bed, nude, her hands tied to a hook that Ed installed into the concrete wall, Jack remembered what it felt like to be her, when Laura was being raped. His voice was shaky as he sought to reassure his goddaughter, “It's me, Laura. It's Jack. It's all over now. You're safe.”
Continuing to cough, Laura didn't acknowledge his presence.
Jack quickly untied her. When he scooped her into his arms, he was frightened by how little she weighed. “It's okay, sweetie. It's all over. I'm going to get you out of here.”
Laura's eyes were partially open, glazed over with tears. She hung limp in Jack's arms.
He covered her eyes as he carried her past her father's corpse.
Jack then dashed up the stairway, exiting the smoky storm cellar, returning to the humid, lakeside air.
Collapsing to a sitting position on the ground, Jack rocked Laura in his arms, trying to soothe her.
He quickly realized something was terribly wrong.
Pulling off his gas mask, he beseeched her, “Laura? Laura! Talk to me. Say something!” Stupidly, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Laura showed no signs of having heard him.
“Look at me!” he shouted, but her eyes remain unfocused.
Panicked, he remembered Clara Sensora saying he could save Laura's life.
And he did save her.
But at what cost?
“Laura!” he shouted, giving her a violent shake. She flumped about like a rag doll.
Jack grabbed her arm, using his fingernails to pinch her as hard as he could.
She didn't even flinch.
“No!” shouted Jack, realizing the horror of what had happened. “Goddammit to hell!” He pinched her again, this time on her cheek, squeezing hard, raising a big red welt there.
Again, she failed to react.
Her blind eyes were clearing of tears... but not their blank stare.
He remembered her saying, “I can't feel anything anymore!”
She couldn't feel because, at that point, Jack had already robbed her of her sense of touch.
The well-meaning, insecure Sheriff realized that when he linked minds with Laura, he didn't borrow her senses.
He helped the Sensora sisters steal them.
Permanently.
Thanks to him, his goddaughter was a vegetable.
He shook her violently, shrieking, “SAY SOMETHING!”
When Laura remained defiantly incoherent, Jack clasped his big hands around her thin neck.
He won't let her live like this: an untouchable mind locked inside an unfeeling body. It would be inhuman to let her live like this.
As Jack squeezed the life out of beautiful little Laura— the battered, drugged, senseless young woman reacted to having her air cut off. She thrashed and kicked, but only very briefly.
Pressing his thumbs hard into her windpipe, Jack begged, “Forgive me, Sweetie.”
Laura Eaton died by her godfather's hand.
When she was gone, Jack sat down in the grass and cried. For nearly fifteen minutes, he bawled like a madman.
Finally, he climbed to his feet and put his gas mask back on.
Then he picked up Laura's naked body and carried her back down into the storm cellar, where he placed her on the folding bed (which Ed brought down
here from Jack's cabin) and he tied her to the wall.
Five minutes later, peering out across the lake, Jack began making phone calls.
******
Americans awakened the next day to the news that the notorious Cornfield Killer was dead.
Sheriff Jack Carver was given the credit for finding the murderer and bringing him to Justice. Unfortunately the good Sheriff wasn't in time to save Laura Eaton, the Killer's final victim, who was strangled to death by her own father.
Jack received phone calls from all the major networks, asking him for interviews. He refused them all.
Among the evidence discovered at Jack's lakeside cabin was a videotape made by Ed less than twenty-four hours before he was killed. It offered the only (meager) insight about his twisted motivations. On the tape, the dentist revealed, “I never used to be like this. Something happened recently. Something... changed. Suddenly, I couldn't even look at Laura any more without experiencing these terrible... cravings. And then... I don't know. I just snapped.”
Of his other young victims, all he had to say was, “I had to practice first. I had to get it right before I did Laura.”
For the Sheriff of Trinity County, the most horrifying part of the video was when Ed addressed him directly. “I know how this ends, Jack. I didn't know when I started... but I know now. It ends with you killing me. And you know what?” A-man-Jack-didn't-recognize laughed aloud. “I'm okay with that! Knowing I'm going to die frees me up! It takes away all the stress!” Jack's best friend laughed again and looked truly relieved.
Ed ended the tape saying, “I know what to do about Laura now.” He smiled warmly, proclaiming, “I'll send her on ahead and then I'll follow, I'm certain,” his eyes appeared to be dead already as he looked directly at the camera, finishing, “with your help, Jack.”
His final, chilling summation was, “Hottie girls shouldn't tease their fathers.”
He didn't even mention Joanie, even though the recording was presumably made just after he hanged her.
Jack's shame and guilt were soul-crippling.
He was furious at the Sensora sisters. He tried to find them, to no avail.
Ultimately, however, he knew who was to blame for all these tragedies... a man who failed to serve and protect.
Fishing in Brains for an Eye with Teeth (Thirteen Tales of Terror) Page 3
