Eyes that do not Open Page 14

  “Yes, that’s right. He also explained that someone quite clever tried to set him up with those clothes. There were all kinds of traces, and it’s not normal for a psychopath to do something like that. There was semen, saliva, fingerprints, and even hair. He told his cellmate that he woke up two days later in a lost gutter, in a lost road down Florida, among lizards. That’s why he decided to come here. He said he had been drugged. There were blood traces and a nail in the clothes we found. He explained that someone had poked his index finger as if they were testing his blood sugar. Mind you, all this information is not on record and Andrew believes that there was not even half the organic evidence I just mentioned.”

  “Hmmm, that’s okay.” Landon almost whispered to the phone.

  “What’s that?”

  “I was thinking out loud,” Landon said moving his feet. His heavy boots were now on the edge of the desk which slid a few inches.

  “Are you sharing this information with detective Andrew?”

  “What makes you think that Andrew is involved in this?”

  “I just know.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Landon’s voice sounded petulant.

  Colton hung up.

  Landon thought he had everything under control, which was far from the truth. It was a real mess. He had information and he wasn’t planning on sharing it. Truth is, for the first time he felt guilty. A sudden stomachache warned him he was going the wrong way.”

  63

  “I’ll stay a few more hours in town...” Clarice said from her caravan. “Before going somewhere else. I’m only taking bad memories from here.”

  “I’m sorry, Clarice. I’m very sorry that this happened to you.” Andrew said with a sweaty forehead. The caravan’s window was like a mirror and the sunbeams bounced on her face, warmly caressing her face.

  “I will need to be safe while I get ready.” Clarice’s voice said. Her hands were on the black steering wheel.

  “You can camp, or rather park, in my backyard. I live a couple of blocks away. In the meantime, you can eat something warm.

  “Thanks, Andrew. I have my own kitchen.” Her index finger pointed at the back of the caravan. She instinctively averted her eyes and looked at her windshield. She took a deep breath when she realized she hadn’t had a ticket.

  “Yes, of course.” Andrew looked around as if he was looking for something but he didn’t find anything interesting. His hands were in his pockets and his back was sweating. It was a thick and sticky sweat.

  Clarice smiled for the first time and said:

  “Why are you wearing that trench coat with this heat?”

  Andrew just shrugged.

  “Maybe because I’m emotionally attached to it.” He replied.

  “You seem very sensitive.” She said.

  “Andrew. Call me Andrew.”

  “Okay, Andrew.” Her hands were moving frantically around the steering wheel as if she wanted to grab it entirely.

  “Changing subject, what did the doctor tell you that I don’t know already?”

  She shrugged.

  “Well, that I only have bruises. Nothing serious. I was lucky.” She showed him her forearms and her pink skin was now tainted with bluish stains.

  “You were lucky, Clarice. I’ve already seen with this sicko is capable of.”

  “I’ve had him in front of me.” Clarice’s eyes were starting to get wet when she remembered that man who was holding a dead woman on his shoulders. She still remembered the sound of her skull cracking open when it hit the rock. She got goosebumps.

  Andrew, staring at her, said:

  “I don’t know how you can look so calm. At first, you looked like a scared girl in shock.”

  She smiled again and the sun kissed her lips.

  “It’s all a matter of will power.” She explained.

  Andrew thought about Grayson and realized he didn’t have so much of will power to go to his appointment. He knew that sooner or later the phone would come out of his pocket, and it would be Grayson on the other side of the line, with clenched teeth and a wrinkly forehead, anxious to hear the detective’s voice.

  “Why don’t we go to my luxurious house?”

  She didn’t believe him.

  “I think I’ll get some food first. Can you wait here for me?” Her thumb and index fingers were indicating something short. “I won’t be long.”

  “The supermarket is at the end of the street,” Andrew explained.

  “I know,” She said smiling.

  “Okay, in the meantime I’ll go speak with the sheriff.” Andrew took both hands to his bald head “Then one in the hat.”

  She smiled again.

  It was as if nothing had happened.

  The caravan started moving away.

  64

  “Here you are, girls. Pea purée and a medium rare large steak.” The sicko had a tray with two plates and a soda. The door creaked as it opened and closed by itself due to its weight. It was as if the wall was leaning. The sicko’s eyes were shining happily. Just like every day.

  “Where are Ava and Madelyne?” Hannah asked with a serious look. She was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, wrinkling her dress.

  “They are in other rooms, separated.” The sicko lied while he left the tray on the pinewood tables.

  “I don’t believe you.” Zoe was angry. “You’ve been out for several hours.”

  “And you miss me?”

  “We’re dubious and scared.”

  “Have I ever hurt you?”

  The sicko was grabbing the door handle, a rusty iron bar,

  “Other than kidnapping us, no.” Audrey highlighted and looked around. She glanced at the walls and stared at the worried eyes of her roommates.

  The door slammed shut after an annoying creaking sound that was almost painful.

  65

  “Do you always use that trench coat?” Landon asked with a stupid grin on his lips.

  “I haven’t come to talk about my clothes, but about you hiding something from me. I haven’t taken a leak in the entire day, I’m angry and I need answers.” Andrew was furious and his hoarse voice bounced across the walls of the sheriff’s office.

  Landon rose his hand to invite him to take a seat.

  “Let’s talk a little bit.” He said.

  I don’t want to sit down. I’ll talk while I’m standing. Care to explain about the eyes?”

  Landon made silence but both of them could hear the precinct’s murmur from the cracks on the door. He sprawled on his chair chewing his toothpick, yes, his eternal toothpick, and started moving his lips unenthusiastically.

  “The coroner told me that the woman’s eyes were ripped out and introduced in the first victim’s throat...”

  “I already know that! I heard you!” Andrew yelled, interrupting him, to refresh his memory.

  Landon rose his hand with his fingers pointing up.

  “I didn’t get the chance to tell you.” Landon lied. His eyes half closed and his heartbeat was increasing furtively. He didn’t know why, and that sensation disconcerted him.

  “What are phones for?”

  “Okay, okay.” He set his hands on the pile of white papers and folders. “This morning when I saw that the victim had no eyes I assumed they would be in her throat. I’ll be able to confirm that tonight.”

  “Tell me something.” Andrew got closer to the table almost pushing it with his hips “Are you hiding anything else?”

  “Well, this morning they found Madelyne Brewster’s vehicle...”

  “Down Fowler's Beach,” Andrew said with sparkling eyes.

  “How do you know?”

  “There are snitches everywhere.” Andrew lied. He had remembered the intense headache when seeing the Buick. He even remembered people passing by the vehicle and heard the sound of waves by the shore.

  Landon made a grimace like that of a killer clown.

  “Well, I’ll have to keep an eye on my men.” Landon’s face showed no exci
tement.

  “Trust me, your men had nothing to do with it. Are you hiding anything else?” Andrew insisted. He was sweating copiously. He was not hesitating. Landon, however, started to feel his hands trembling.

  “Warden Colton called and he told me that Parker was the victim of a possible set up the day those seven girls disappeared. Apparently, he confessed to his cellmate that that day he was somewhere in Florida, under arrest.”

  “That’s okay. Since we work together, do you have the updated file?”

  Landon shook his head in denial.

  “No.”

  “I don’t have it either,” Andrew said wrinkling his thick lips.

  66

  Fifteen minutes after taking a suffocating heat bath, Andrew dragged the tail of his trench coat in a tedious walk. He wasn’t wearing a hat. He saw the caravan driving towards him. The silhouette was getting bigger and bigger, like an inflatable castle, as it got closer. It stopped with a snort and the bulky house behind it seemed to grow bigger, like a frog’s throat.

  The clock marked half-past five and Andrew had seen again the image that looked like Hannah Ackerman’s face. It was stuck in his mind like a sticker.

  “I’m here. I bought some things for tonight’s dinner.” Clarice said while she was opening the caravan’s window. It was white and brown and the bunk was above the main cabin.

  Andrew rose his hand. His crown was like a river. Sweat ran from the center of the skull to his forehead where his bushy eyebrows caught every single drop of salty sweat.

  “Can I get a hotdog? I hope you bought some.” Andrew wasn’t smiling.

  Clarice made a grimace and her eyes shone for the first time that torturous day.

  Andrew was starting to like her.

  Way too much.

  67

  When the sun peacefully slept behind the mountains. All the lights in the houses spat a dim brightness through the windows aiming the pavement or the grass, Clarice had already parked her caravan down Andrew’s backyard. He was inside with the blinds down and looking at the pictures of those smiling women. They were full of happiness.

  He had crossed out Madelyne’s photo and his headache reemerged.

  The smell of smoked hotdogs invaded the backyard sliding through a crack on the window and reaching the detective’s nostrils. It activated a weird noise down his stomach and, it turns out, another familiar sound followed.

  It was his cellphone vibrating in his pocket. Andrew, devouring that intoxicating smell with a deep breath, took his hand to his pocket and got the phone out. He stared at it for a while. It was Grayson. He arched his back and head and snorted like a cat in pain.

  He let the phone ring until it drowned in its own silence again.

  68

  That night, Landon was not very happy with his tomato soup, he gulped it in a single sip to avoid throwing it away. Instead, he had preferred drinking a couple of cold beers while watching T.V. which, unfortunately, didn’t happen. The kids were already upstairs in bed, debating whether to get some sleep or to struggle in an attempt to escape the boogeyman that lived under their bed. In any case, they weren’t in the kitchen or in the dining room. The television wasn’t on, either and not even the cats meowing could be heard. The clock marked nine fifteen. He had been through two long, hot and difficult days. It’s not just the fact that he had a huge cyst in his ass named Andrew, but the fact that he started taking things seriously and his mind started rambling through the virtual files of those women. Aria, his wife, was washing the dishes when the kitchen’s phone rang both weakly and alarming at the same time. Who the hell would call at those hours? Landon wondered with his head above the bowl of soup. His hand was holding the spoon in the air as if it were a long index finger pointing at the cordless phone.

  “Are you taking that call?” Aria asked after stopping, with her hands full of bubbles of soap. Her eyes looked for her husband’s face.

  Landon made a grimace. He knew he wouldn’t get up from his chair.

  “It must be some idiot dialing the wrong number.” He said with a hoarse voice that showed how tired he was. He looked like the perfect depressed guy who only eats chocolate and whose lips are dark.

  “You know your assistant always calls.” She suggested.

  “Well, then you take the call.”

  Aria puckered her lips and softly whistled. She picked up a napkin that was near her by the sink and while drying her hands, she walked towards the phone. The melody was subtle and it sounded as if the noise had been strangled in a broken speaker.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Kevin. Is your husband around?”

  “I don’t think he is tonight.”

  There was a brief silence followed by a crack on the line as if somewhere in the world, the sky had been cut in half in the middle of a storm. She frowned. She had her back towards her husband.

  “I don’t understand him.”

  “I don’t understand him either.” She replied complaining about the whole situation.

  “I have something very important to tell him. I have the results of the autopsy...”

  “Hold on! This is something you wanna tell him.” Aria interrupted as she turned around and walked to the table. Stretching her arm as far as she could, she gave the phone to her husband. “It’s your assistant. He wants to talk with you about disgusting things...”

  Truth is, she was not aware of the details, but she knew a bit about the seven women who had been kidnapped, she also knew about Parker and she most certainly knew what was happening then. She didn’t know, however, what was happening with the victims’ eyes. Landon told her some things but during those two hectic days, he had had little, if any, time to tell her.

  Landon’s fingers grabbed the phone after letting the spoon fall in the bowl, making a loud sound as if the bowl had crashed on the floor.

  Aria looked at him.

  “What is it, Kevin?” Landon wanted to smile but he refrained, instead, he showed all his teeth with his mouth wide open.

  “Herbert just called and gave me Madelyne’s autopsy results. Let me tell you, it’s gross...” Kevin was suddenly mute.

  “It’s about her eyes, isn’t it?”

  On the other side of the line, there was a crack and something like a grumble.

  “They were in her throat. Herbert told me the murderer has been following the same M.O. as with...” Kevin stopped for a second.

  “Ava Cox,” Landon said rolling his eyes. Aria resumed her dishwashing.

  “Yes, her. The murderer has followed the same steps. She also died asphyxiated. No prints or bruises. She’s perfectly washed and with her make up intact. He also mentioned she had died this morning.”

  “Well, Kevin, we have more than enough to work our butts off,” Landon explained while he was staring at his wife’s... ass.

  Aria turned around with a serious look.

  Landon suddenly ended the call.

  He just didn’t want to know anything else for the night.

  However, before falling asleep, before taking his pants off and before going upstairs, he had to check who was next in the list. With those eyes closed as if sleeping. He didn’t have Andrew’s gift, even though he didn’t know about this gift just yet.

  Aria turned around again and focused herself on her dishwashing, now noisily.

  However, they were still in the dining room. The whole family was now reunited. The kids were downstairs in their pajamas, unable to get to sleep a while after drifting in a dream. Aria hadn’t had dinner yet. The story was twisting unexpectedly, their habits were starting to change. The needles on the clock marked almost ten sharp.

  That night, everything was different.

  69

  “Hannah. Come with me.” That twisted mind ordered as he extended his arm out. Her makeup made her look special, weird and strangely unhinged.

  Hannah looked at him with a straight face.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  The rest of them re
mained quiet as if they were sleeping under the covers.

  “We’re going to the place where your other two companions are waiting for you.” Beyond the hole in the door, the sound of a song “Life in Mono” was playing in the background like a murmur. The stereo system was fixed, it was just the plug. Once he had it going again, the vibrations of the sound penetrated the thick walls and the five women put their ears to the wall to listen.

  Hannah turned around and her inquisitive eyes asked:

  “You have nothing to say?”

  They stayed silent, with their mouths shut as if their mouths were zippered up. Their eyes were puffy like balloons and the makeup smeared over the skin like battle scars.

  “They will be with us soon,” Said the sicko. His skin shone as if he had bathed in oil. He was naked. They were used to seeing this but it took a long time to deal, those were hard, restless and disconcerting times. They didn’t cry or scratch their faces anymore. They were now pondering about the present and the immediate future. Grinding and clenching their teeth while their lips were closed.

  Hannah glanced at the sicko again while he was waiting for her with his hand on the doorknob, just a piece of rusted iron fastened by rusty screws. It was like a bolt as if it was a jail cell from the seventies.

  “I’m going to get them. I want to see them again.” Hannah explained but not entirely convinced. She had on her pajama, soft as silk shining like the sky, like the ones she used to see years ago. She got closer to the sicko who was getting closer to the room next door. The sound of the music was getting louder. Before Hannah left, she turned to the four other women, lifted up her hand and waved her fingers as if saying goodbye.

  And boy, she did say goodbye.

  That sicko led her to a room with a wooden door that was tattered due to humidity and time. It was not painted and was not a pine wood door, no nails nailed to it either. It was as if it was a monolith with two huge hinges that creaked when he opened it.

  “Get in, Hannah.”

  She took a step into the room with her bare right foot. The room was lighted by a light bulb that was painted in red. The sound of the song was extremely loud and hurt her eardrums, but the song was soothing and rich with a beautiful rhythm.

  “They are not here,” Hannah said with her eyes wide open and right that instant the sicko pushed her inside, almost making her fall to the ground.