In a press conference Thursday morning, the Cook
County Sheriff’s Department announced the arrest of Gary Pfeiffer for the
murder of the Park Forest couple, Don and Susan Harlow. Pfeiffer was Harlow’s ex-husband, and a
restraining order had been issued against him because he had threatened her
life. He left his fingerprints on the
sliding glass door, where he entered their bedroom, and a splotch of her blood
was found on his shoes.
The Jordan Daily News rushed to make over for
Thursday’s paper.
“Sounds like
they’ve got this case sewn up,” Hoss said, as soon as the edition was released.
“Yeah, that’s
good, I guess. I mean, that it’s not another unsolved murder,” Josie said as
they walked to the break room.
“But . . . ?”
Hoss said, waiting for Josie to finish her thought.
“Oh, I don’t
know. I guess I’m glad the ‘Cornfield Killer’ hasn’t struck again,” Josie said,
giving a television announcer’s melodramatic emphasis to her words. Hoss
laughed.
“But now,” she
said, “ I’m beginning to worry they will never catch him. It’s been almost
three weeks now. Without any new clues .
. . .”
Eddie Simms was thinking the same thing as he opened
the paper and sat down to read it at his kitchen table. He took a long pull on
his beer as he read about Gary Pfeiffer and the “crime of passion,” as Cook
County officials were calling it.
He shook his head as he read. Any fool could have
seen this wasn’t like the Cade County murders. Those television announcers had
been wrong, as always. There wasn’t even
a mention of the unsolved Cade County murders on the front page, so Eddie
opened the paper to page four, where the story was continued, to see if there
would be any mention there. He paused for another swig of beer as Mae came
marching into the room.
“Edward Albert
Simms,” she said as loud as her little voice would go. Then she thrust a dark
revolver onto the newspaper in front of Eddie. “What do you have to say for
yourself?”
“What’s this?”
Eddie asked, a bit surprised.
“That’s the
latest toy!” Mae stood with hands on her hips. “Dion and Beau were playing with
it this morning in the back yard, chasing each other around. A black boy finds
guns soon enough without you bringing one home to them.”
Eddie said nothing but grabbed the gun. He flipped
open the chamber. It was empty.
“I know you
have to carry one on your job, but you must keep it locked up from the kids.
Can’t you just store it at work? Why do you have to bring that in here?”
“I’ll take
care of it,” Eddie said, reaching out his large hand to caress Mae’s cheek.
“You’re not
going to sweet talk your way out of this,” Mae said indignantly. “My babies
could have been killed.”
“The gun
wasn’t loaded,” he said and rubbed his thumb softly across her cheek. “I’ll
take care of it.”
Mae huffed and left the room as quickly as she had
entered. Eddie stared at the pistol. It
was a Smith & Wesson .38, the same kind the sheriff’s deputies carried. He
took a hefty swig of beer, and stared again at the gun. He had thought putting
the truck away would be enough. After the deputies had stopped by that day,
asking questions, he’d moved the truck to his friend’s body shop. He told Mae
he was getting a camper top added to the back and would be using her car to go
to work. With the truck hidden, Eddie had felt safe.
Now he knew he would have to do something with the
guns as well. He wrapped the sides of the newspaper over the pistol and left
with it under his arm.
