by Laurèn Lee
The town grew so angry with him, vandals had taken to toilet-papering the trees in front of his house, spray painting “PIG” on his garage and even throwing a large rock through his living room window. The quaint and quiet town Earl loved with all his heart turned on him in the blink of the eye. Could he really blame them, though? He was responsible for keeping them safe, and he’d failed.
Earl’s phone rang, and before he checked the caller ID, his heart sank. No one ever called him this early unless it was an emergency. Nothing good would come of this call.
“Yeah?” he answered gruffly.
“There’s another body, sir,” one of his lieutenants said in a somber voice.
I knew it, Earl thought.
“Where?”
“In the alleyway of Saucey’s.”
“Is it him?” Earl asked in reference to the serial killer.
“The eyes are gone.”
“Be there in ten.”
Earl jumped out of bed as quickly as his joints allowed, and picked up the crumpled uniform which lay on the floor. He didn’t have time for appearances; he had to drive to the newest crime scene. The Stone City Slasher killed again.
Earl pulled up in his cruiser and met a handful of other officers already on the scene. The owner of his favorite pizza shop stood outside with his head in his hands. Earl assumed he must have come to work early to prep for the day. Instead of worrying about how many pies to make, he’d have to deal with his unit and cooperate in a murder investigation.
“Sheriff!” the owner, Alfonzo, called out.
“Mornin’, Al.” Earl tipped his hat.
Ricky jogged up with a matching wrinkled uniform. His bloodshot eyes told Earl all he needed to know: his lieutenant was significantly hung over.
“Who’s the vic?” Ricky asked cautiously.
“Come with me,” Earl instructed.
The men approached the body, sectioned off with neon yellow police tape. They felt deja vu wash over them. They’d seen this particular scene too many times before. A woman with dark hair lay sprawled naked next to the Saucey’s dumpster. Rats scattered across the alleyway, just waiting to claim their prey.
Earl bent down, and Ricky mirrored his boss’s movements. Earl took a sterile metal wand and moved the woman’s hair out of her face to confirm her eyes had indeed been carved out of her face just like Janice and Rhiannon. The Stone City slasher claimed his fourth victim.
Only a faint smell ruminated in the air. She hadn’t been dead long, but long enough. Something about the body initiated a curiosity within Earl, though. Despite the blood, bruises and missing eyes, she looked familiar.
“It’s Candace,” Earl said.
“Candace? You mean the girl from the bar last night?” Ricky’s eyes grew to the size of peaches.
Earl studied his reaction very carefully. Did Ricky have a “tell?” Would he give himself away with feigned shock and awe?
“The very same,” Earl said slowly.
“Well, how do you know?” Ricky’s voice shook.
“Her lipstick,” Earl said matter-of-factly. “She’s the only woman I’ve ever seen wear such bright red lipstick.”
“I can’t believe it! We just saw her alive last night!”
“We sure did,” Earl replied carefully. “What exactly happened after I left last night?”
Earl and Ricky stepped away from the body so the forensics team could get back to work. Camera flashes illuminated the alleyway, and Earl couldn’t help but see them in his peripheral view. The sheriff pulled his lieutenant away from the hoopla and action of the scene so they could talk discreetly.
“Nothing really,” Ricky murmured.
“Tell me everything,” Earl warned.
“I just told her I knew what she was and to stay away from me!”
“That’s all?” Earl stroked his beard.
“I swear, Boss. I had one more drink with the guys after that and went home.
Earl made a mental note to subtly ask the other men when Ricky left. Better to be safe than sorry. Better to cross your “t’s” and dot your “i’s.” Someone was running around killing women in this town, and Earl wanted more than anything to find him. He needed to find him.
The camera crews arrived, and Earl knew it was all downhill from here. Once the media caught wind of the story, there’d be no escaping their wrath. He was done for.
During the rest of the day, Earl kept a watchful eye on Ricky. He wanted to soak in his entire reaction to Candace’s death. Now more than ever, he suspected his lieutenant of being the killer. Who else could it be?
It came as no surprise to Earl that Henry concluded later that day that Candace had been raped and bludgeoned to death. Her wounds nearly matched Rhiannon’s and Janice’s to a T. But, Earl didn’t need to know that to confirm this was the Slasher at work. He knew it deep in his gut.
The only question left to ask now was “Who’s the goddamned killer?”
Thirty-Eight
The next morning, Earl knew he should go to work considering another murder investigation was under way. Not surprisingly, Al was immediately cleared, but there weren’t many others to question at this time. Saucey’s was one of the only businesses left on that block. The pizza parlor stood in a lower class part of town. Most other businesses had gone under not long after they opened.
Because there wasn’t much Earl could do at the station, he decided it might be best to do something for himself instead. He rose and dug through his closet for long johns, a flannel and his favorite pair of jeans. He hadn’t gone fishing in over a year, but today seemed like the best kind of day to pick it back up. He could use the silence the lake a few miles outside of town provided to him.
Once dressed, Earl hobbled down to the kitchen to pack for the trip. He crafted a bologna sandwich and filled a thermos with steaming, fresh coffee. He tossed a few other snacks into his cooler including a bag of seasoned beef jerky, Cheetos, and of course a half liter of vodka. He couldn’t go fishing without liquor, could he?
Earl looked down at his cell phone which lay on the kitchen counter. It glared back and tested him. He thought about leaving his phone at home, but his gut told him to bring it just in case. What if another tip came through and Earl left his phone at home? He couldn’t ignore his duties as sheriff even on a quiet Sunday. He hastily grabbed the device and shoved it into his back pocket. Then, he scooped up his cooler and trudged to the front door.
He stepped out into the morning air and felt his breath freeze in his lungs. The temperature felt colder than he'd assumed, and shivers cascaded down his body. However, the shock quickly wore off as he loaded his truck with fishing supplies stored in the garage. He’d have to stop for fresh bait along the way, but other than that, Earl felt well-prepared for the impromptu trip.
Earl started the truck and backed out of his driveway slowly. Even though darkness blanketed the sky, he couldn’t be sure the early morning joggers weren’t out in full-force, too. Once he entered the highway, Earl sped the short distance connecting the town to the area surrounding the man-made lake just outside of Stone City. Before being voted sheriff, Earl made an effort to come to Serenity Lake at least once a week, if not more. Now, though, his job wouldn’t permit such luxuries.
He parked in the vacant lot by the lake and jumped out of his truck, prepared and ready to cast his lure into the smooth, black water. Earl hastily grabbed his cooler and fishing gear from his truck. Eagerness tore through him, and he sped toward the edge of the lake and planted himself and his gear under a willow tree which hugged the water’s shore. Next, he put on his waders, gathered the fresh bait he picked up on the way, and took the precious first steps into the water.
The sun rose, and warm pastels painted the horizon. Earl closed his eyes and felt the sun kiss his face. He wished more than anything he could live the rest of his life within the realm of the peacefulness offered here at the lake. Here, there were no murders. No press conferences. No coroner’s reports or angry towns
people. Lake Serenity provided nothing but calm and a haven.
An hour or two passed, and Earl caught a few small Rainbow Trout and Longear Sunfish, but none of them were big enough to keep, so he let them go.
Around lunchtime, Earl gently set his pole down and pulled his cooler to the trunk of the willow which served as a makeshift canopy. He pulled out his bologna sandwich with the crusts cut off and started to munch as he gazed out to the lake. He remained the lone soul out in these parts and felt grateful not to have to share his beloved Sunday with anybody else.
After he scarfed his sandwich, Earl reached back into his cooler for a few pieces of jerky. At first, his hand made contact with the bottle of vodka. He thought about pouring some into the Coke he’d cracked open, but then, for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t have a taste for it. He smiled to himself and continued to sip his virgin soda.
Once Earl filled his stomach to his heart’s content, he felt ready to cast his line again. He could spare another couple of hours dedicated to himself. The sun made its peak zenith in the sky, and the day warmed up a bit. Earl even felt warm enough to unbutton his flannel. Finally, he felt a tug on his line and instantly knew it was more than another small fry like he’d caught all day. He carefully and methodically pulled at his line, reeled, and then waited. He did this over and over until he was able to reel the line all the way in and pull out his prize.
A ten-pound catfish greeted him at the other end, squirming incessantly with bulging eyes. Earl smiled with glee as he removed the hook from the fish’s mouth and put him in an extra cooler he brought. Earl salivated at the idea of cooking his catch later that night.
Then, for the first time that day, Earl’s phone rang. Damnit, he thought and quickly wiped his fishy hands on his pants before he reached to answer the call. The number on the screen piqued his interest as he didn’t recognize it, but knew it seemed familiar.
“Sheriff Davis here,” he answered.
“Hi, Sheriff. This is Louise from your mother’s long-term care facility. I’m afraid I’m calling with some unfortunate news,” she paused.
“Yes?” Earl replied impatiently as his stomach sank into oblivion.
“Your mother is very, very ill. The doctors believe she only has a few hours left. You should come say your goodbyes.”
“Thank you for calling,” Earl said and promptly hung up the phone.
He hadn’t seen his mother in years, but a nagging feeling in his gut told him he should see her one last time.
Earl packed his fishing gear in record time and threw it into the bed of his truck. His heart raced, and perspiration pooled around his temples. He always knew this day would come, but in the back of his mind, he hoped it never would. What would he say to his mother? What would she say to him? Would she look like she was dying? Would she look like his mother at all? As Earl pulled onto the highway, his vision grew spotty as though he may pass out. He repeated to himself, “Keep it together, Earl. Keep it together.”
He wondered if his mother wrote a will and if she included him in it. Would she leave him anything? He doubted she had many, if any, assets to her name. At the long-term care facility, Earl's mother became one of many welfare recipients to call it home. His mother wrote to him a few times over the past ten years and asked if he'd visit, but he ignored every request. He couldn’t bear to see her, but now he felt like he had no choice.
Instinctively, Earl reached for the cooler beside him and opened it with rogue fury. He grasped his bottle of vodka and untwisted the cap with one hand while the other controlled the steering wheel. He grabbed the neck of the bottle and chugged for several seconds before he slammed it back into his lap. Dribbles of booze escaped down his chin, and his body loosened with warmth.
He felt better now. He could handle this. He had booze, and that's all he needed to cope. He took several more gulps before he finally reached Longwood Care Facility and parked in a handicapped spot at the front of the lot. He put his sheriff’s tag on his rearview mirror so no one would question the truck parked where it was. Earl fastened the cap back on the bottle and stored it in the cooler for safe keeping. If necessary, there was about half left in the bottle; he’d drink the rest when he came back to his truck. He’d drink the rest when he said goodbye to his mother once and for all.
Earl unsteadily jogged into the building and pushed past a few nurses who scurried about the foyer.
“Excuse me,” Earl said as he approached the front desk heavily out of breath.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m Sheriff Davis. I’m here to see my mother,” he gasped.
The woman jumped to attention and stood. “Of course, Sheriff. Right this way.”
Earl followed the mousey nurse to a room not too far from the front desk. She knocked on the door and entered, Earl at her heels. Once inside, Earl felt as though his heart would explode from his chest. His mother, his sweet, frail mother lay in bed with dozens of tubes protruding from her body.
“Oh, Mama,” Earl whispered.
“She’s been in and out of consciousness,” the nurse said. “She’s been asking for you, though, whenever she’s awake.”
“Thank you,” Earl said. “Is there a doctor here so I can speak with him?”
“I’ll call him and let him know you’re here. I’m very sorry,” the nurse said as she pat Earl on the shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Earl pulled a seat next to his mother’s bed. Her hair had turned white as snow in the past several years. The last time he saw her, she only had a few grays peeking through her locks. Now, she looked weathered. Cancer wore her down and sucked out her soul. Her disease left her as an empty shell of her former self. He put his hand on her arm and rubbed his thumb against her liver-spotted skin.
“I’m here, Mom. It’s me, your son.”
Earl’s mother stirred, and he looked on as she struggled to open her eyes. His heart skipped a beat when her lids flickered and she looked back at him.
“Mama!”
“Son,” she whispered and beamed. “You look well.”
“I’m hanging in there,” Earl shrugged. “How are you?”
“Been better,” she said with a faint smile. “But, I’m happy you’re here. I’ve missed you so much, Son.”
“I’ve missed you too, Mama.”
“Tell me how you’ve been. You look so grown up!”
“That’s because I am grown up,” Earl smirked. “Well, I’m the sheriff of Stone City.”
“You are!” she gasped. “That’s wonderful! I bet you do an excellent job.” The excitement sucked what little energy she had left.
“I try to, but it’s been rough lately,” Earl admitted. “We’ve had some, uh, unfortunate circumstances happen in town.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Son. I’m sure you’ll get it all sorted out, though. You were always so bright.”
“Thanks, Mama. Are you feeling okay? Do you need any pain medicine? Can I get you anything?”
“A cup of ice chips would be nice,” she said slowly as she struggled to speak.
“I’ll be right back.” Earl bent down to kiss his mother’s forehead and strode out of the room in search of the ice machine.
His mother looked worse than he could've ever imagined. It was as though death already had its finite grip on her soul and was dragging it out of her weak body. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to apologize for not being there for her, but all he could do now was offer comfort and bring her a cup of ice chips. He found the machine around the corner and took a cup from the dispenser. Earl filled it to the brim with chips and slowly walked back to his mother’s room.
When he returned, someone else had taken his seat. The woman wore long, wavy dirty blonde hair just like his own. Her voice sounded familiar, and he knew instantly who sat before him. Earl stepped into the room, and his mother craned her neck to see him. The back of the woman whipped around, too.
Her brilliant, honeysuckle eyes expanded with happiness a
s the woman stood and ran into Earl’s arms.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” She cried into his neck. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you, too, Baby Sister.”
Earl’s mom spoke up and interrupted their reunion. “Kit, Gabby, come back over here and let me get a good look at you both together.”
Gabby grabbed Kit’s hand and pulled him toward their dying mother at her request. The Davis family was reunited at last.
Thirty-Nine
After the night in the woods, Mindy never spoke to Kit again. She avoided him in the halls and even requested a schedule change their senior year. Initially, Kit and Mindy were placed in the same English class, but Mindy switched the first day of class. For weeks after he’d forced himself on her, Kit desperately tried to corner Mindy and talk to her. He wanted to explain himself. However, Mindy made sure not to walk alone in between classes. She never gave Kit the opportunity to defend himself.
Guilt shredded through Kit’s conscience at first, but the more he thought about that night, the more he realized Mindy asked for it. They were both drunk, and she never told him to stop, until, well, she did. He resented her for tricking him and leading him on. He thought if they ever had another moment alone, he'd punish her for being a manipulative floozy.
By Kit’s senior year of high school, Meg had just about disappeared and resigned her role as a mother. She shacked up with a man she met at the club and only came home to leave money for food and bills. Kit cared for Gabby the best he could and even considered filing for guardianship once he turned eighteen. His mother had proven she didn’t care about them, so why couldn’t he take legal responsibility for her? He figured Meg would sign any paperwork gladly to further remove herself from any responsibility.
