The Killer Copy: If you found a mentor like this, you would be making a killing.

by Gail Caban

  The Killer Copy

  Joseph & Gail Caban

  © Copyright 2020 - All rights reserved.

  The content contained within this book may not be reproduced, duplicated or transmitted without direct written permission from the author or the publisher.

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  Legal Notice:

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  Disclaimer Notice:

  Please note the information contained within this document is for educational and entertainment purposes only. All effort has been executed to present accurate, up to date, reliable, complete information. No warranties of any kind are declared or implied. Readers acknowledge that the author is not engaged in the rendering of legal, financial, medical or professional advice. The content within this book has been derived from various sources. Please consult a licensed professional before attempting any techniques outlined in this book.

  By reading this document, the reader agrees that under no circumstances is the author responsible for any losses, direct or indirect, that are incurred as a result of the use of the information contained within this document, including, but not limited to, errors, omissions, or inaccuracies.

  Table of Contents

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  1

  Ness tried to move her head, but there was an unexplainable, heavy pain to it. She lifted her hand to her sticky matted hair and felt a wet warmth pulsating through her fingers. She could feel sharp prickles beneath her fingertips as she tried to move her hands.

  “Mom, what happened?” Ness’ ears were ringing, but there was another blaring sound that was keeping her from much else; however, she could hear no response from her mom. Her headache was worsening as she could feel the pressure increasing in her ears.

  “Mom?” Ness started coughing against the grip of her seatbelt. It was at this moment that she realized that she was hanging upside down—the car was on its roof.

  Ness moved her head as slowly as she could and could see her mom’s body hanging limply from her seatbelt. The entire side that her mom was on was crumpled in from a side impact, and she didn’t respond to Ness’ calls. After turning slightly more—even though her neck and back cried out in pain—she managed to focus her vision on her mom . . . and what she saw truly horrified her: her mom’s body was completely mangled by the impact.

  The driver side of the vehicle sustained the impact when another vehicle T-boned their SUV as it skipped a red light. The impact was powerful enough to force the SUV into the front of another vehicle and flip it over on its roof.

  “Mommy, please s-s-s-s-say something?” Ness’ voice quivered as she tried to touch her, but it seemed too dark within the wreckage to see the full extent of her mother’s injuries.

  She reached out and tried to touch her, but all she could feel was the same warm wetness on her mother’s limp body as she could feel oozing out of her head. All she could smell was the stench of concentrated metal, and it was making her more nauseous by the second. She knew she had to get out of the car.

  Ness reached for the release of her seatbelt and pressed it. Her body crashed down onto the car’s ceiling and she cried out in pain. She could feel the slight numbness and tingling sensations in her hands and feet. She tried the door handle, but the deformation of the frame of the car prevented her from opening it—the window was blown out from the roll-over impact. Ness crawled towards the window and started cutting her arms on the shards of broken glass beneath her, but she persisted until she squeezed out of the opening. All she could hear was the constant blaring of the car’s horn as she slowly slipped into darkness.

  Ness woke up to the beeping heart monitor next to her. She could feel the sensation of clean sheets and blankets keeping her warm, but she could smell the antiseptic in the room. Even though it was meant to keep everything clean and sterile to protect her from acquiring other infections, she felt oppressed by the smell as it burned her nostrils. She looked around, and though her vision was still blurry, she could see someone sitting in the chair next to her holding her hand. As she blinked a few more times, her vision came into focus and she recognized the figure.

  “Daddy?” She asked quietly and awoke the sleeping figure. “Honey! You’re awake!” Heck Elliott leaned forward and had to stop himself from embracing her.

  “What happened?” Ness asked, still waiting for her confusion to subside. “You were in an accident, Ness,” he said with an overwhelming amount of sorrow in his voice.

  “Where am I? Where’s Mom?” she asked as she tried to move into a more comfortable position, but everything in her body screamed out in pain, which made her stop her movements.

  “You’re in the hospital, honey. You and your mom went out to see a movie three nights ago, and you were involved in an accident,” her father’s eyes welled up with tears.

  “Dad, where’s mom?” Ness asked again but now with a lot more concern in her voice.

  Her father choked as he muttered, “Honey . . . she didn’t make it.”

  “What happened, Dad?” Ness sunk back into her pillows in a silent form of resignation.

  “After you and your mom left the cinema to come home, you were hit by a drunk driver,” her father answered as he sat back down in his chair. Ness could see how ashen and defeated he looked.

  “Who is he?” Ness asked with a hardening intensity in her eyes. “The police will come in soon now that you’re awake and talk over the details with you. But, fortunately, they have the guy, and they will prosecute him as harshly as they can,” he said as he sat in his chair, but his defeated look didn’t leave him.

  “Dad, you’re the chief of police in our village; isn’t there something you can do to make this sack of shit rot for what he did?” Ness forced herself to sit up straighter in her bed.

  “It’s out of my hands, Ness. There’s a lot more at stake here than just nailing a drunk driver. He’s the son of a politician or something, and I have been told not to approach this case,” Ness’ father rubbed his forehead.

  “What?” Ness’ eyes were now flaming with rage. She had never seen her father act in such a pathetic way before.

  Before her father could answer, the nurse walked in to check on her vitals and was astonished to find her awake.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake for a while, but I’m so glad that you’re doing alright, sweetheart,” the nurse answered in a southern accent as she quickly moved her large frame over to Ness’ bedside. She propped Ness up on her pillows, without too much concern of moving her because even though her back was severely bruised, there wasn’t any sign of damage to her spinal cord—she
would make a complete recovery from her physical injuries. Nevertheless, she wasn’t overly impressed when the nurse moved her from her semi-comfortable position.

  “Your vitals are doing well, but you are going to be spending a few weeks here because your spleen and liver were severely damaged by the force of the collision. The surgeons managed to repair your liver, but they had to remove your spleen. However, you will heal in time. That said, if you’re up to it, there are two police officers that would like to speak to you about what happened.”

  “Was my mom killed instantly?” Ness asked, disregarding the nurse’s question.

  The nurse looked at Ness’ father not feeling quite sure on how to answer Ness, and he just shrugged in his seat. “No, sweetheart, your mom was alive when she arrived here, but her injuries were too extensive, and she died in surgery.” Ness didn’t respond, but the nurse watched a darkness start to creep in behind Ness’ eyes. However, as a professional, she just chalked it up to the trauma of the incident. Little did she know that there was a much more sinister force welling up in her.

  “You can send the police in,” Ness said flatly after a few moments. “I’ll get them for you.”

  The nurse answered and left the room. A few moments later, the police officers walked in and greeted Ness’ father first. They were from the Chicago Police Department, and even though Ness’ father was the sheriff in North Utica, their paths had crossed a few times; they respected the type of man that he was. They walked over to Ness’ bedside and grabbed two chairs to sit down next to her.

  “Hello, Ness. I’m Officer Chedwiggen, and this is my partner, officer Austin. We’d like to talk to you about what happened a few nights ago when you and your mom were involved in the accident. Are you alright to go through a few details with us?” Chedwiggen asked.

  Ness nodded. The officers got into their questions, and every answer that Ness gave them produced more pain inside of her. Her physical injuries may be able to heal, but Ness wasn’t so sure about the emotional turmoil that was darkening her soul. She thirsted for the blood of the man that killed her mother.

  2

  6 months later . . .

  Ness, along with the rest of the congregation in the courtroom, stood as the judge reentered and sat down in his seat. Ness was anxious of the verdict because the lawyer who Henry Martin hired—the man that managed to ruin the lives of the Elliott family in a single moment of a drunken stupor—was very expensive and very influential. He managed to cast a doubt over everything that was presented to the jury in the case revolving around Ness’ testimony and shoddy police work.

  The judge sighed as he asked Henry Martin to stand while he presented him with his verdict: “Mr. Martin, there is no doubt in my mind that you are guilty of the crime that you committed, but, unfortunately, the evidence collected on the evening of the collision appears to be tampered with and is therefore inadmissible. Additionally, because your blood tests were only performed the next day when you were in hospital, it doesn’t give us a clear indication of your blood alcohol level at the time of the accident. It is, therefore, my duty to stop these proceedings. This means that this case is out of the jury’s and out of my hands. Mr. Martin, you’re free to go,” the judge said as he brought the gavel down onto his bench. “Court is adjourned.”

  There was an exchanged and disgusted awe between the audience as Henry Martin smiled and thanked the judge before shaking the hand of his lawyer. All Ness could do was watch the man that killed her mother and destroyed her life walk away, completely unpunished.

  She scratched a small scar on the back of her wrist where one of the exploding pieces of glass tore into her flesh during the impact. She made eye contact with Martin as he walked past her, and he smirked as he did. She vowed that he would pay; no matter how or when, this motherfucker would have what’s coming to him.

  Ness sat on her bed in silence, and even though she was already 23 years old, she didn’t feel any rush to leave her childhood home; in fact, she didn’t feel much of anything anymore. Her rehabilitation period was slow and painful. Her physical injuries involved a lot more than her liver and her spleen—Ness sustained a femur and pelvic fracture with several broken ribs. She spent several months in hospital as she retrained her mind and her body to walk again. Even though she struggled through her physical injuries, they did heal with time and exercise, but her emotional struggles seemed to be getting worse.

  Instead of feeling less pain when thinking about her mom, she was riddled with an onslaught of rage and guilt. Now she felt that her life had come to a watershed moment, and she would never be the same again.

  “Hey sis,” Ness turned her head to the knock on her door. “I just wanted to see if there was anything that I could do for you?” Wyatt asked as he sat down on her bed next to her.

  Wyatt was only two years older than Ness, and like her, he had wavy blond hair and striking blue eyes. However, where she remained petite, he packed on muscle when he joined North Utica’s football team when he was in high school. But unlike Ness who was more academically inclined, Wyatt remained a jock and wasn’t interested in an academic career. What he really wanted to do was follow in the footsteps of both his father and grandfather, and he ended up joining North Utica’s Sheriff Department. “No, I’m fine,” Ness responded. She stood up from her bed and walked to her washbasin where she filled up her cupped hands and splashed the cool water over her face and neck.

  “You don’t look fine.” Wyatt answered. “Well, what am I supposed to be, Wyatt? The man that killed Mom got off without even a slap on the wrist today. How is that fair? How is anything fair that we were taught to believe in the world?” she returned to sit next to him.

  “Balance will be restored, Ness. Henry Martin will get what he deserves. It might not be today, or even next year, but he will get what he deserves. You have to believe that.”

  “I don’t. There’s no such thing as fair justice or karma. Life will remain unfair unless you take matters into your own hands. If you don’t, evil will always prevail,” Ness stated.

  “Vengeance isn’t the answer, Ness. Besides, if you stoop to his level, you’re no better than he is, and you may end up in prison yourself if you’re caught,” Wyatt said matter-of-factly.

  “You mean like he was “caught” after he got wasted and drove his car into ours? There’s no fairness within the law, Wyatt. It’s all corrupt.” “I can see this isn’t the right time to be discussing anything,” Wyatt said as he stood to leave. “If there’s anything that you need, Ness, you know where to find me. Lindsay would love it if you came to stay with us for a while,” Wyatt closed her bedroom door and walked downstairs.

  Ness picked up the picture of her and her mom that was on her bedside table and looked at the smiling image of the two of them. “I’m sorry, mom. I don’t think there is anything else that I can do to stop this man,” Ness returned the picture frame back to its original spot and started pacing her room. It was at this moment that Ness knew that there was only one solution to make Henry Martin pay for his crimes—she needed him to die. That was the only way that balance would be restored.

  It was at this moment that Ness stopped pacing her room and stared out her window: her mind wandering into deep and dark places. She grew up in a family with police officers.

  She knew how they operated, she knew how killing someone was easy, but getting away with it could be tricky if you left evidence that could be tied back to you. Besides, the first person that they look for in a murder is for someone that has the motive to kill. Killing Martin was tempting, but she would be a prime suspect—Ness didn’t care. She needed to do something. Ness looked at her watch because she knew the drive to Chicago would take her at least 90 minutes, but she needed to go back there. During her stay in the hospital, Ness spent a lot of time researching Henry Martin and knew that he was a man that stuck to a very simple routine. Driving around downtown Chicago and popping into a few bars would inevitably lead to him. It was a longshot, but it was e
nough. Ness grabbed her jacket and car keys as she headed for the door.

  3

  Ness’ drive towards Chicago did little to help calm her growing animosity and rage, and she had little idea of what she would do if she actually came across Henry Martin.

  However, in her mind, this was better than doing nothing than merely being absorbed by her thoughts as she hid away at home. Ness knew that there were multiple bars that Martin frequented, and if she didn't meet him tonight, she could always try again. She realized she didn’t have much in the way of a plan, but she was determined enough to find him and see how he was spending his freedom.

  Ness drove around for a while until she came to the intersection where she and her mom were hit. This made her freeze in fear. Ness was so preoccupied by her feelings of hatred and anger that she completely disregarded how she would feel if she came back to the place where her mom died. Seeing it now, she was completely overwhelmed with emotions. She felt frozen in place as the panic set in, but she was finally brought back to reality by the horn of the car behind her. She managed to pull her car toward the curb, and she burst into tears.

  “What are you doing here, Ness?” she screamed to herself. It took her several minutes to calm down, but she knew she was in no condition for such a long drive back home. She looked around and spotted Eddie’s Bar across the road and decided she really needed something to calm her nerves. She ran across, entered the bar, and sat down at one of the empty stools close to the end.

  “What’s your poison?” a deep, gruff voice brought Ness out of her daze. She looked up and saw the bartender standing in front of her. He was easily in his late 50s, but his well-developed shoulders, arms, and chest would be the envy of any younger man. She stared at his face for a few seconds and noticed that he had a fading scar on his cheek that ran up into his hairline, deep into his graying but thick hair. His icy blue eyes held her stare as he waited for her to answer.