by Jack Bantry
"I don't know," Mark said.
***
Nick did the searches on youranswers.com later that night, after Karen and Billy had gone to bed.
When he slipped out of bed at two-thirty A.M., Karen was a vague lump beneath the covers, snoring loudly. Nick snuck out of the bedroom and headed downstairs, being careful not to make any noise. Once in the living room, he took his laptop out of its space beneath the end table by his chair and fired it up.
When the search engine was up he got right down to business. He typed, "Did Ken Atkins kill Rebecca Armstrong and her daughter Jennifer?" He hit the Enter key.
The search engine returned one link with lightning speed.
Nick looked at the screen, his heart beating wildly in his chest. That one link, denoted by a single underline that changed from blue to red when he placed his cursor over it, was ominous. There was no identifying text to accompany the link. Just that single line, beckoning him to click it.
Nick clicked the hyperlink.
The link took him to a website with an embedded Flash movie clip. There was no text anywhere else on the page. A moment later, the movie clip started.
The clip was in gritty black and white. The angle suggested a security camera mounted in the high corner of a suburban living room. A reasonably attractive woman in her early thirties dressed in baggy shorts and a tee shirt was seated on the sofa, watching TV. Nick watched, not breathing, and gasped as something in the shadows detached from the darkness behind her and entered the frame.
"Oh God," Nick said. He clamped his hand over his mouth. His eyes were wide, riveted to the clip.
There was no mistaking it. The figure that had come out of the darkness to stand behind the woman, who was clearly oblivious to the intruder in her home, was Ken Atkins.
Ken Atkins raised his right hand, clutching a large butcher knife.
The knife came down.
Nick fumbled for the cursor on the track pad as Ken began stabbing the woman. He clicked the stop button on the video clip. The frame froze mid-stab. Nick couldn't tear his eyes off the image.
"This is insane," he whispered. He felt his pulse race as he noticed the time stamp in the lower right hand corner of the clip. July 15, 2011, 10:35 PM. That was a Thursday. Nick remembered that day clearly. He and Ken had spent the afternoon working on the department store chain’s new web site redesign. The following day, after making significant progress, they’d gone out for Chinese food for lunch.
There was no way Ken could have done this!
Nick exited the browser, cleared the cache and Internet cookies, and then shut down his laptop. He stowed it away, then sat back on the leather sofa and tried to think things through.
The last time Ken had talked about his problems with Rebecca was close to a year ago. As far as Nick knew, Ken was still working his second job.
As the months passed, he'd seemed happier. More relaxed.
Did Ken use youranswers.com to find a solution to his problem with Rebecca? And if he did, what search term did Ken use? Was that why he hadn't brought her up in conversation in almost a year? Did that explain his recent demeanor?
Nick realized he had to do something. He wasn't planning on killing Karen. He just wanted to leave as quietly and as painlessly as possible. Did Ken try to find a solution for his problem through the search engine using similar parameters and the result was the most convenient of solutions? For to eliminate the woman who'd brought on the lawsuit, as well as the child, all financial obligations would end for Ken.
Did Ken type in the term "How do I get rid of Rebecca Armstrong and Jennifer so I won't have to pay child support"?
Nick thought perhaps Ken had. And the results the search engine spit back had contained just the right solution, which Ken had somehow followed through on.
Nick sat in the darkened living room pondering this, his mind racing. He couldn't back out of his plans now, not while everything was already set in motion. He was just getting out of dodge. He wasn't going to take the kind of drastic measures Ken had. He didn't want to get rid of Karen. He didn't want her to come to harm, didn't want her dead. He just wanted out.
Everything was going to be fine.
Nick went upstairs and slid back into bed. Karen slept soundly. He tried to get back to sleep but he lay awake for a long time.
***
With one weekend left for him to launch his plan, Nick felt he had to follow up on one important thing that had suddenly come up in the midst of the latest turmoil at work.
He was sitting in the visitor’s area at Lancaster County Prison, waiting for the guards to escort Ken over. Karen was out with her friends Debbie and Cathy, probably bitching and complaining to each other about their husbands. Nick had dropped Billy off with a friend on the way in to Lancaster. The visiting area was noisy, a bare white room with multiple chairs seated in front of privacy cubicles that looked out into another area where the prisoners came through. A glass wall with holes punched in the glass to allow for audible conversation separated the prisoners from their visitors.
A flash of movement caught Nick's attention and he sat forward. Ken was being escorted over by a guard, a younger man dressed in a black police uniform. Ken was wearing the standard orange prison jumpsuit. He had a week's worth of beard stubble on his face. As he sat down opposite Nick, he noticed how pale his friend and former co-worker looked. His eyes had a haunted appearance, as if they'd seen things they shouldn't have.
Ken nodded at him. "How you doing, Nick?"
"I should be asking you."
Ken shook his head. "What's it look like?"
"Have you been arraigned yet?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"I plead innocent. I didn't do this. What else could I plead?"
"Did they set bail?"
"Yeah. We can't afford it. My parents…they're trying to raise it, but they're having a difficult time doing it."
"I bet." Nick shook his head, still trying to grasp how everything could have turned out the way it did.
"Listen, I have something I need to tell you," Ken said.
"Sure, what is it?"
"Don't do it."
Nick almost asked, don't do what? but then he got the subtle message. Ken was looking at him apprehensively. He knows I'm going to follow through with the plans I found on youranswers.com. He also knows I haven't told the detectives about it…that Ken used it to solve his own problem. Because if they'd found out, there's a good chance I'd be in deep shit with Karen.
"Don't worry," Nick said. "I don't plan to do what you're worried about it. I'll be fine."
Ken said nothing for a moment. His dark eyes never left Nick. When he spoke, his tone was low. Flat. "I learned about it from a woman I used to work with. Back at my old job." Ken's prior job before coming to Logan Advertising was at an Arizona company called Discount Tire. "She was in debt up the ying yang. Anyway, long story short, she wanted to make a million bucks. Thought it would get her out of debt, put some in savings for her kids college fund, which she didn’t have, and have some for retirement. She did a search on this term. The site showed her how to steal the money quite easily from a hedge fund manager."
"A hedge fund manager?"
"Yeah." Ken chuckled slightly. "Guys that make that kind of money, a million bucks is pocket change to them. She figured the mark wouldn’t miss it. Anyway, she did it. She quit her job. Unlike a lot of people, she didn't live large. Didn't go out and buy fancy cars and houses and stuff. Just paid off her debt in full, put some in the bank, and quit her job, started her own business. Not too long after that, she told me about the site. Anyway, years later, I learned she was the target of a financial crime that put her in an even deeper hole. She got popped big time. It ruined her family. It got so bad for them, she checked out." Ken placed his middle and index finger against his temple and pulled a mock trigger. "She couldn't bear what she'd inadvertently done to her family. It never would've happened if she'd just stuck it out, tried to ge
t out of debt the old fashioned way."
"Her situation was different," Nick said, seeing where this was leading. "I'm not doing anything wrong. I’m just leaving a bad situation."
"I know. But you're using the site. I’ve figured it out now. You use it and follow through, whatever it was you did comes back to you. My friend got hit financially. I got hit this way. If you leave –"
"I have to leave," Nick said, his voice low and gravelly. He shifted in his seat. The pain in his balls had diminished greatly in the past few days, but they were still tender. An ultrasound performed at his doctor's office revealed that his testicles weren't ruptured, but next time he might not be so lucky. "I don't think you understand the hell my son and I live under. The constant physical and psychological abuse. The negative influence…it's all having a profound affect on Billy. He's…he's different now." Thinking about Billy and how he was dealing with Karen almost made him tear up. "I have to do it."
Ken looked at him silently. He nodded. "I understand. But be careful, Nick."
"I will."
The guard approached Ken. Visiting time was over. Nick got to his feet. "I'll be in touch."
"I hope so," Ken said.
Nick watched the guard lead Ken back out of the visiting area, then he left to go home.
***
Nick followed his plans carefully.
He resigned from his job that Monday and requested a cash-out of his remaining vacation days. During the day he left the house as normal, taking his tote bag that contained his notes and his laptop. He spent his days either at the Barnes and Noble coffee shop following up on plans or making necessary trips to the bank to take care of things.
Karen left the house Friday after work with her mother to New York. The moment they were gone, Ken drove his car to a vehicle shipping company, then took a cab to the U-Haul rental company where he picked out a small truck. He drove it back to the neighborhood, parked it around the corner in the event Karen came home unexpectedly, and then waited for Billy to be dropped off by a friend. He told Billy that evening over take-out pizza what was going to happen.
"You mean we're leaving?" Billy looked at him with wide-eyed excitement.
"Yes. Tomorrow morning. You and me."
"And we're not telling Mom where we're going?"
"No."
"Yes!" Billy pumped his right fist in the air, then darted over to Nick and gave him a hug. The energy he felt coming from his son, the love, was overwhelming. It said, thank you Dad! Thank you for getting us out of this hell.
The next morning Nick followed the outline he'd plotted out thanks to the website he'd gotten from his search at youranswers.com. They packed two weeks of clothing, personal items that were near and dear to them, one of the televisions and VCRs, Nick's laptop, Billy's Game Boy console and the Wii Fit, some books and CDs. All this they packed neatly into the truck. They left the house and drove to the bank, where Nick withdrew his entire checking and savings account. He transferred two thousand dollars of it into traveler's checks. The rest he had converted into cash, which he placed in a secure briefcase they kept with them in the truck’s cab and took in to the hotel rooms they stayed at.
They made the drive to California in five days.
Their first night in California they spent in Barstow, a small town in the Mojave Desert. When Nick stepped out of their hotel room that morning and took in the warm, dry desert air he sighed in relief. They were free.
They settled in Redondo Beach, a small community in Los Angeles fifteen miles south of LAX. Following the instructions he’d printed out, they stayed at a small low-rent motel along PCH for a few days under his new identity, paying cash. Then he’d gone to the Social Security office in Torrance and explained that he’d lost his card and needed a replacement. He produced a birth certificate and the fake state-issued ID he’d obtained a few weeks ago. He left fifteen minutes later with a new social security card. From there everything else followed: driver’s license, banking account, which he deposited his money into, and from there it was a quick upgrade to digs – a small two bedroom apartment on Lucia Street, just off Beryl Avenue. With the new digs came new furniture and household items. Nick even purchased himself a new laptop – a MacBook Pro. He retrieved all his old data from the cloud account he’d set up months ago and set about getting his new digital life in order. He also bought a second TV – a flatscreen – and a DVD player that also played Blu-Ray discs.
He had Billy's name changed to Craig. Billy picked the name himself.
Things only got better after that.
He enrolled Craig in school as a freshman at Redondo Beach High. With Craig in school, he moved into an entirely different career. He’d always been interested in real estate and took a real estate class, the state exam, and got his broker license in eight months. He sold his first property a week later – a beachside home in Malibu. Five months later, he and Craig moved into new digs up the coast in the Marina del Rey area.
Things continued to improve.
Craig was apprehensive about school at first. He and Nick spent a lot of time at the beach talking about how he should approach it, and Craig took his father’s advice. By November he had new friends, was outgoing, at ease; his old self. Nick kept tabs to make sure his son wasn’t falling into the wrong crowd and he was pleased to see that wasn’t the case. Craig had made a complete rebound. No longer was he the shy, withdrawn kid afraid of his own shadow due to his mother’s nit-picking and constant psychological abuse. Now that he was away from the negative element, he was blossoming.
Seeing that had a profound affect on Nick’s own sense of self-worth.
Nick started socializing with a few of his co-workers. One of them, a real estate agent in the office, he began to see on a more serious basis. Once he felt comfortable with Craig’s friends, they began to date. The woman – Beth – was a single mother raising a young son of her own. Craig and Beth’s son met and got along fabulously, Craig taking the younger boy under his wing like a surrogate older brother.
He didn’t even think of Karen. The only time he was tempted to find out what she was doing, if she’d raised the alarm due to his disappearance, was when he pulled the old laptop out to access information he forgot to save to the cloud before his move. After the file transfer, he Googled his former name and learned that she’d made a missing persons report in Pennsylvania on Nick and their son, that there was a warrant out for his arrest. Yet with their new names, new locations, and slightly changed appearances – Nick had lost eighty pounds due to discovering body surfing and Craig had lost his chubbiness and traded it for a more muscular physique – there was little chance of them being found.
A week later he proposed to Beth after talking it over with Craig first. He was overjoyed when Craig gave his blessing. “I consider her my mom,” Craig said, smiling, his eyes getting a little misty. “She…she’s great, dad. She’s the mom I should have had. She’s the wife you should’ve had.”
And Nick, knowing in his heart that this was true, could only fight to contain his own tears and hug his son close. Hard to believe that Craig was now almost seventeen years old. The shy, socially awkward boy was growing into a fine young man.
He never learned what happened to his old friend and co-worker, Ken Atkins, because he worked hard at burying that part of his past. He did, however, pass on the knowledge of the search engine to a colleague at a mortgage company he worked with, who was going through a problem with his in-laws. Nick told him about a resource that might help him deal with his problem – try it, you’ll find something there that will help you. Just be sure to keep it on the low down. Clear your browser cache and history. Don’t tell anybody.
Then the night he came home late from showing a home to a potential buyer.
He pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, noting that Beth and Craig had already gone to bed, which was unusual. It was only ten o’clock on a Friday evening. Craig had football practice the following morning, so he had to rise early
, but he wouldn’t have turned in this early. Nick got out of the car and walked up the front path to the double glass doors, unlocked the house, and let himself in.
The house was dark.
“Beth?” Nick called out. Curious, Nick set his briefcase down in the entry hall and stepped through the foyer into the living room.
He stood in the living room entryway, letting his eyes get adjusted to the dark. The house seemed empty. “Beth? Craig?”
There was a noise from the bedroom down the hall.
Nick reached for a light, flipped it on and recoiled from the sight.
The easy chair was toppled over. Books had been flung out of the bookcase, and there was broken glass and dishes on the floor. Pools of blood saturated the carpet. Nick gasped, heart lodged in his throat. A spike of fear rose through him, pulsing strongly.
Karen stepped out of the hallway. She grinned at him. Her long hair hung in her bloodstained face. Her clothing was rumpled, bloodstained.
The butcher knife she clutched in her right hand made shallow cuts in Karen’s leg as she jabbed at herself.
“Karen! How…what…what are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing, Nick? I just killed your girlfriend and your son and now I’m going to kill you.”
“What?” The bottom dropped out of Nick’s world.
Karen stepped toward Nick. “Thought you could outsmart me? Guess you forgot who had the career as a Network Security Specialist.”
And as the implications became clear, and Karen moved in for the kill, Nick’s last coherent thought was that it wasn’t as simple as Karen planting some kind of IP tracking software on his computer. No. In the brief time he’d had his old laptop up and running, Karen had gained remote access to it and learned about the search engine. And she’d used it.