He licked my nose in acknowledgement and wagged his tail. I carried him to the car, where Dad was waiting to put him in the carrier. Mom followed me out, picking lint off the back of my shirt the whole time.
“Dear, don’t forget that I made dinner for you, and it’s in the fridge. We should be back tomorrow afternoon. Please call us if you need anything, but try your father first, since sometimes it’s hard for me to get to my phone; it’s usually buried at the bottom of my purse.” She had her big sunglasses on and one of her traveling scarfs. Dad shut her door for her and grabbed me by the shoulder.
“Jake, take care of the house. Plan on having any company tonight?” He dipped his head and asked me in a lower volume voice as if he were trying to not let my mom hear. He elbowed me and punctuated it with a not-so-subtle wink.
“No, Dad, I’m not, and even if I were, I wouldn’t tell you. Besides, you know Sydney and I broke up a month ago, and I haven’t talked to her since. I haven’t had time for girls this past semester.”
He always liked to joke about my love life and constantly tried to get information out of me. With his lips turned slightly up, he pulled me in for a hug. I fully embraced him and gripped the back of his shirt. In his ear, I whispered, “Love you, Dad.” He pulled away, cocked his head to the side, and looked at me.
“Everything okay, son? Sounds like you’re saying good-bye, and not just because we are leaving for a night out.” The playfulness that was in his voice just a minute ago was gone, replaced with a concerned-father tone.
I thought about telling him everything, but I fought the urge and instead I patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, Dad, everything is fine.” I was getting a lot of practice at becoming a better liar.
The concern he had shown disappeared from his face, and he patted my shoulder then gave me another big bear hug. He was always much more affectionate than Mom was. Normally I shied away from such grand gestures, but today it held much more significance than either of my parents were aware of. I closed my eyes and relished his warmth and all-too-familiar scent. He always had a very natural, clean smell to him. The hug only lasted for a few seconds, and in an instant, it was gone. He walked to his side of the car and got into the driver’s seat. The car purred to life and began to reverse out of the garage. I followed them out, not wanting them to leave but understanding that they would be safer if they did.
With a final wave from both of them and an air kiss from my mom, they began to drive away. Huxley’s bark grew faint as they put more distance between us. I stood in the street and watched until they were out of sight. I looked up at the sky and began to whisper a prayer for strength, courage, and protection. I prayed that Ethan and Lori would stick to their part of the plan and help me gather enough evidence to have Bill arrested.
I still had a few things to do before tonight, so I headed back up the driveway toward the house. I didn’t look at Ethan’s house this time. The more I looked, the more my nerve was chipped away. I needed every bit of help I could get tonight. With the garage door closed behind me, I went to my room. I had to write one final letter, and this one was going to be mailed to the police precinct downtown. Someone else needed to know the truth when—or should I say if—I came up missing the next day.
Or worse yet . . . dead.
Chapter 11
My letter to the police didn’t take long to write. It was concise and to the point:
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is Jake Howell and I live at 1709 Bainbridge Way. My next-door neighbor Dr. Bill Meyer has been physically and mentally abusing his family for years, and I have proof. He has threatened my life, and I also fear for the lives of my parents. He has asked me to meet him at Headley Park at the Castle Ridge Overlook at 10 p.m. this evening. If I am missing or dead, he will be responsible. Look for the trail cameras located at the overlook for further proof, which may include my demise. In the attic of Dr. Meyer’s house, you will find evidence of his involvement in the disappearance of several local women that should warrant a detailed investigation. See pictures of evidence enclosed. Make sure his wife, Lori, and son, Ethan, is safe. Please tell my parents that I love them. THIS IS NOT A JOKE OR A HOAX.
Sincerely,
Jake Howell
I enclosed a copy of the pictures I took in the attic and a picture of me with my name written on the back. It felt good to reveal the ugly truth to someone else. I just hoped that my letter wouldn’t get lost in the shuffle at the precinct. I addressed the envelope to the chief of police and marked it URGENT, then placed the letter on my desk and checked the time. Four p.m. I lay down to try to take a nap. I was exhausted, and my body yearned for sleep. It was only when I began watching the ceiling fan spinning around and around in circles that my eyes started to get heavy.
By the time my eyes opened again, it was close to eight. I ached all over. The little sleep that I did get had been plagued with nightmares about Bill chasing me, catching me, making me disappear like those women. My head throbbed and pleaded with me for some ibuprofen. I dragged myself to the bathroom and popped two pills. The reflection that stared back at me in the mirror was one I no longer recognized. He looked pale, exhausted, and anxious.
I dragged myself back to my room and changed clothes. My best pair of hiking shoes capped off my outfit. I strapped the hunting knife to my ankle and put the pepper spray in one of the pockets of my cargo pants. Backpack in hand, I grabbed the letters to my parents and to the police and was preparing to walk out of my room when I stopped and took one last look around my room. I held on to a sliver of hope that this wouldn’t be the last time. Jogging down the stairs toward the kitchen, I noticed how quiet it was. It was creepy to hear no signs of life outside of my own.
8:25 p.m. Only about thirty minutes until I was supposed to contact Ethan. My stomach started to growl. The chicken and rice that Mom left for me sounded like a good last meal. I heated up a small bowl and sat down at the table to eat. I tried to surf the Internet on my phone, but I was too distracted thinking about what was to come. Finishing off my meal, I downed a bottle of water and moved into the living room. From there I had a better vantage point of Ethan’s house. I grabbed a pair of binoculars from the kitchen and looked out the window, trying to hide behind the beige curtains that my mom loved. It looked like most of the window coverings were drawn closed except one side window on the lower level. There was some movement, but I couldn’t make out who it was.
8:45p.m. Time was crawling. I paced back and forth across the living room floor, mentally checking off the list in my head. I hadn’t seen any sign of Bill or Lori all day, which was strange. It was a short trip to the community mailbox across the street, and I wanted to get the letter to the police in the box as fast as I could.
Before leaving the house, I set the alarm and locked the door. I didn’t want to be surprised when I returned. Other folks from the neighborhood were still out and about. The Smiths walked by me, their two German shepherds pulling them forward. The Langleys and their brood of five children were in their front yard, writing on the driveway with chalk. Old man Hunt and his wife Gertrude were sitting on their porch, swinging happily back and forth, probably talking about politics or their eleven grandchildren.
Everyone was so wrapped up in his or her daily lives and completely oblivious to what was hidden in plain sight. And a couple days ago, I had been part of that routine. Part of the normalcy that I took for granted. Damn Bill Meyer! Damn him for taking away my blanket of ignorance. Damn him for being such a monster. Without a second thought, I slipped the letter into the outgoing mail slot and made my way back home.
Chapter 12
8:59 p.m. I figured it was close enough. I shot Ethan a short text with the veiled question we’d picked out the night before: Yellow bricks will lead you to what city?
I would receive back one of two responses, which would tell me if the plan was still good to go or if we had to abort and call the police right away. I waited for what seemed like forever. I must’
ve checked my phone every few seconds. 9:02 p.m., still no response. Out of habit, I started biting my nails. The nubs that were left proved how nervous I was. 9:04 p.m., and I was still getting radio silence. I looked out the window toward his house. The front porch light was on, but the rest of the house was dark.
“C’mon, Ethan, where the hell are you?”
I started to think the worst. Maybe Bill had discovered our plan and hurt them? 9:07 p.m., still no response, and I no longer wanted to play the waiting game. Just as I was about to text him again, my phone beeped.
His response read: Emerald City.
Our plan had a green light. If he had replied with “Beware the ruby slippers,” I would’ve called the police. We’d both loved The Wizard of Oz as kids so it kind of made sense to use it. I looked out the window again to see if anything had changed. Nothing. I didn’t remember ever seeing Bill’s car today, but he must’ve parked it in the garage, which was not atypical. The fullness of the moon lit up the sky. I checked all of my supplies once again and replaced the water bottle in my bag that I’d gulped down earlier. Everything was ready, now I just had to wait.
My thoughts began to drift to happier times. Memories of my parents and Huxley, memories of growing up as a kid, memories of school, and then I thought of my ex-girlfriend Sydney. The first time I saw her, I was spellbound. The deep blue of her eyes coupled with her raven hair initially attracted me, and then I got to know her, and she was funny as hell.
I broke up with her after a year of dating. She went to school an hour away from me, and it was too hard to try and make things work. She tried her best and even offered to transfer to my school so we could be together, but I didn’t feel like I was ready for that type of commitment. I hadn’t talked to her since.
Now I wished that I had given things a chance. I did love Sydney, and it was probably really stupid for me to end the relationship. I promised myself that if I came out of this alive, I would call her and try to patch things up. She was a great girl, and I was being a stupid-ass idiot. I fought the urge to call her right then. I just wanted to hear her voice. I pulled up her number on my phone and hit the call button. It rang once before I chickened out and hung up.
It was now 9:34 p.m., and I knew that I had to start making my way to the park. I left the light on in the living room and kitchen, set the alarm, grabbed my bag, and headed out toward the park. The neighborhood was quiet and empty for a summer night. Everyone was either out for the evening or had retired indoors. There were only a few houses on our street that were completely dark. Ethan’s was one of them.
I found it odd that I hadn’t really seen any signs of life at his house all day. What could be going on inside those walls? It was a long, lonely walk to the park. Once I entered, there were a few people mulling around. Mostly teenagers or college kids like me, hanging in the parking lot. The farther into the park I went, the fewer people I saw, and the trail became more isolated. I looked behind me every few minutes to see if anyone was following. Paranoia began to take hold, and the feeling of being watched once again crept up on me. I hated that feeling.
The Castle Ridge Overlook came into view, and I glanced at my phone; it was 9:56 p.m. T-minus four minutes until my given deadline. After pulling out the flashlight, I stashed my bag in a small hole I’d discovered earlier in the day and looked up in the direction of the two trail cameras. Knowing they were there brought me a small measure of comfort. I took out my phone and snapped a selfie. I posted it on my Facebook page, making sure my location at the park was noted. I wanted to provide the police with every bit of evidence I could, even if it was a small clue to my last known whereabouts.
I paced back and forth, waiting for Bill to show up. Lori and Ethan were supposed to follow him to the park with a video camera in hand, ready to call the police once they’d captured his confession. I was the bait and the one who would confront him. If things turned south, Lori and Ethan would try to help me subdue him until the police arrived.
There were only two ways to get to the clearing from inside the park. My eyes darted between both of them, trying to ensure Bill couldn’t sneak up on me. I placed myself in the middle of the clearing—the best vantage point for my trail cameras. I looked at my phone again—10:02 p.m.
Bill was late, and a huge part of me was glad. I was about to put my phone back in my pocket when the urge to call Sydney came up again. I tried to talk myself out of it, but this time the urge was too great. I allowed myself to be momentarily distracted and dialed her number. I kept my eyes on both entrances to the clearing as the phone began to ring. By the time the third ring came, I was about to hang up. Then I heard a noise. Without thinking, I shoved the phone in my pocket and ducked behind the closest tree. It sounded like footsteps on the gravel coming up the trail.
My heartbeat picked up speed and I clenched my jaw. My eyes were fixed on the entrance to the clearing, expecting to see Bill emerge any second. A figure appeared, wearing a black hoodie and dark pants. I knew I had a role to play, and hiding behind a tree wouldn’t get the job done, so I stepped out and shined my flashlight toward the dark figure. To my surprise, the light was shining on Ethan. He kept moving toward me like a man on a mission.
“Dude, what’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Where’s Bill?”
My immediate thought was that Ethan had to change the plan for some reason. He didn’t say anything, just kept moving toward me. He stopped about five feet away. I waited for him to say something, anything. He had a crazed look in his eyes, and he was breathing heavily.
It was then that I noticed something strange and yet familiar. Ethan’s right hand was down by the pocket of his pants. His thumb repeatedly flicked his pointer finger, almost like a nervous tick. Déjà vu hit me, and I tried to think back to why this was so familiar. Searching my mind, my eyes moved back and forth, pulling back memories. Then it hit me like a freight train.
That first night when I saw Bill assault Lori in the backyard. The dark figure standing between our houses had been wearing identical clothing. The repetitive movement of his thumb flicking his pointer finger unnerved me then and now served as a chilling reminder of that night. Ethan just stared at me, a slow smile spread across his face, as if he knew I was starting to put things together. The thing that frightened me most wasn’t that Ethan and the dark figure two nights before were the same person.
It was the fact that now he was wearing a pair of latex gloves.
Chapter 13
We stood there staring at each other, surrounded by the nighttime life of the park. Crickets sang in chorus, a normal routine for them, but to me it sounded like my death march. Ethan began to pace in front of me, never taking his eyes off of my face. I didn’t know if it was shock or naivety, but I still couldn’t see the big picture. I was confused. There had to be an explanation. Just as I was about to say something, he spoke.
“Well, Jake, have you figured it out yet?” His voice was the same but different. It was slightly deeper and had a menacing undertone. “I must say it was so much fun watching you these past few days. You did not disappoint me, not in the least! I always knew you were a sentimental fool, and you proved it to me when you pretended like you really cared about me and Lori. I almost felt bad for you, for your involvement, but then I thought about it, and I am so glad that you came along. You have no idea how perfect your timing is! For weeks I racked my brain, trying to think of the least messy way to get away with everything, and then you stumbled your way in, and it was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I really should thank you, Jake.” The cloud of confusion that swirled around my head was still there. He was speaking in riddles.
“Damn it, Ethan, what are you talking about? I don’t have the faintest ide—”
“Shut the hell up, Jake! You speak when I want you to. I’m in control here, not you!” His eyes were vacant of the hazel that I was familiar with. They were now dark, almost black, as if he was possessed. He stepped toward me, anger radiating from his bod
y. With my hands up, I stepped back trying to maintain the separation between us. The Ethan that stood before me was a completely different person than the Ethan that I grew up with.
He took off his hoodie, revealing a slicked back, greasy-looking hairstyle contrary to his usual appearance. “I didn’t think I could do it. The first one was hard, but after the second one, I started to learn from my mistakes, and I grew more confident. The third one was delicious, and I enjoyed it immensely. The fourth one was the sweetest of all and quite exquisite. She put up the most fight, and I loved it. It was a challenge to subdue her, but she quickly caught on after the first night. I usually only keep them for a night or two, and then they become liabilities. I have to get rid of them. I can’t afford to have any witnesses, now can I?” The smile on his face disgusted me.
“Who are you talking about, Ethan?” As soon as the question tumbled out of my mouth, I knew the answer. The young women, the pictures and newspaper articles hanging in the attic. The human-sized kennel housed in the center of the floor with human hair stuck to it. I placed my hands on top of my head.
No, no, no this can’t be true. “I thought Bill was the one who—”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said with a finger in the air, waving back and forth. “Some parts of what I told you were true. Yes, Bill did abuse me as a child and burn the bottom of my feet. He also beat the shit out of my mom every day. Yes, he was a son of a bitch who deserved to die. The only good thing he did was show me who I really am.”
“What do you mean ‘deserved’ to die, Ethan?” Half of me already knew the answer. “What did you do?”
The Witness Page 5