by Gail Caban
“I’ll just have a club soda and some ice,” Ness eventually answered. “Sure? You look like you may need something stronger,” he answered flatly.
“I’m driving, and I don't live around here, so taking a cab is out of the question.” The bartender simply nodded his head and started filling up a glass with a lot of ice and a large slice of lemon before tapping in soda water to the brim. He placed the glass on a coaster in front of Ness. “If you need anything else, just shout. It’s not a busy night,” he said as he walked away to leave her in privacy.
Ness took a few moments to look around the bar now that her nerves were starting to calm down. It was a relatively nice place, some of the furniture was outdated but the place was clean, and the lighting was soft, which created a pleasant ambiance. There were a few booths around the place which were mostly occupied, but other than that, the bar was mostly empty—though that probably wasn’t strange for an early evening on a Wednesday.
Ness took a few sips of the soda and had to resist a sneeze as the bubbles tickled her nose.
The good thing was that the cold bubbles were helping soothe her anxious tension, and she was starting to feel hungry, so she smiled at the bartender who started back toward her.
“Do you guys serve any food?” she asked him as he stopped in front of her. “Sure do,” he handed her a menu from behind the bar. “Can I have a cheeseburger, fries, and some onion rings, please?” “You got it, why don’t you go have a seat in one of the empty booths? It will be much more comfortable eating there than eating up here on a barstool,” he winked at her in a friendly yet platonic way.
Ness smiled, took her drink to one of the booths, and sat down. The cushions were comfortably soft as she slid onto it and moved deeper into the booth. This bar seemed much more comfortable now that she was sitting in a booth, and she was happy that she moved. Prying eyes were the last thing that she wanted, and a booth offered her slightly more privacy. She sipped at her soda as she watched several more people enter the doors.
As the evening became later, more patrons entered the bar and started filling up the place. 20 minutes later, the bartender approached Ness with her order, and what he carried in his hand didn’t disappoint her. The burger looked expertly made, the fries were thinly cut, and the onion rings looked perfectly deep-fried. If the food tasted as good as it looked, then Ness was certain this bar would be packed in a matter of minutes.
“Here’s your order. I hope you enjoy it. If you require another drink, just grab my attention from the bar,” The bartender said with a warm smile and left. Ness dove into her meal and took a large bite from her cheeseburger. It was far more delicious than she thought a burger at a bar could be. She figured that she may have just been hungry, but even after several bites, she still thought that this was one of the best burgers that she’d ever eaten.
While she was still eating, three burly and obviously drunk twentysomething year olds entered the bar and noticed her sitting on her own. This made Ness feel uncomfortable because their drunken stupor made them very obvious, and she could see that they were setting their sights on her. They approached her booth at once and sat down around her.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all by yourself?” one of the men slurred. Ness ignored his question and kept her gaze on her plate of food. “Oh, come on … don’t be like that,” the same man said and grabbed Ness on her thigh. “Get your fucking hand off me,” Ness said in a quiet rage.
This seemed to fuel the young man because he seemed excited by her sudden feistiness and tried moving closer to her, but he was suddenly impeded by a large, strong hand on his shoulder. “Do we have a problem here?” the bartender asked without releasing his grip on the young man’s shoulder. “Mind your own business, old man,” one of the other men piped up. The man started to wince as the bartender’s knuckles whitened. “It’s time for all of you to leave,” the bartender’s eyes darkened. “Or what? You gonna call the cops?” “I don’t need the help of the cops to finish you three off,” the bartender said, and in one quick motion he lifted the man whose shoulder he gripped and held him close to his face.
“Get out of my bar.” “Alright, take it easy,” the young man said. “We were only having a bit of fun.”
He answered and motioned to his friends to get up and leave with him. He saw something behind the eyes of the bartender that truly terrified him, and he wasn’t going to hang around to find out what it was. They all left quickly without looking back.
“I apologize for them. We do get some customers in here from time to time that aren’t the most hospitable of characters. Are you alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like to call the police?”
“No, thank you. But I do appreciate you stepping in when you did,” Ness conjured up the friendliest smile that she could. “It’s my pleasure. Name’s Eddie,” the bartender held out his hand toward Ness and she could feel the underlying strength beneath the calluses.
“I’m Ness,” she responded before releasing his grip. “The food and anything else you order is in the house, Ness. I’d hate to lose a new patron because of a bunch of idiots,” Eddie said as he turned to leave to tend to some other customers in the bar.
Ness turned back to her plate of food, and even though she still had most of her fries and onion rings left, the adrenaline from the incident made her lose her appetite. Ness pushed her plate away and took a few more sips of her club soda. She had a slight tremor in her hands from the altercation, but it wasn’t from fear: it was from rage. She could feel the darkness within her starting to build, and if she didn’t learn how to control it, it would completely overwhelm her.
Ness spent the next few minutes staring into her drink and thought about leaving, but then she heard the small bell above the doors to the bar jingle. She looked up and—almost as if fate had a hand in the evening’s processions—saw Henry Martin walk through the doors. This was obviously not his first stop but confidently walked up to one of the stools at the other end of the bar. Once he sat down, he started snapping his fingers impatiently.
“Arrogant son of a bitch.” Ness whispered to herself as she moved deeper into the booth to avoid being spotted by Martin.
Ness couldn’t believe that their paths actually crossed. This was an interesting turn of events, and she was interested to see how Eddie would respond to this rude customer. But Eddie moved behind the bar and in his friendliest way, asked him what he’d like. Ness overheard Martin ask for a shot of Jack Daniel’s and after Eddy poured the shot for him, Martin simply informed him to leave the bottle. He pulled out a wad of cash and pushed a $100 bill across the bar. Eddie merely nodded and took the cash as he left the bottle with him.
Ness wanted to leave the bar, but she couldn’t risk being spotted by Martin at this point.
If he recognized her it may start an altercation and—even with Eddie here—if people remembered that they were seen fighting in a bar in Chicago, it could cause problems for Ness in the future. The best decision she could make was to bide her time and wait for Martin to leave, but there was no telling how long that might be. Fortunately, Ness had packed an extra scarf and hat into her purse before leaving for the city because it was an unusually cold night. So, she quickly pulled them out and covered her blond hair up.
Martin would recognize her hair long before he recognized her face. Ness adjusted her hat and sat back and got as comfortable as possible. This was the perfect opportunity for Ness to observe how Martin acted out in public, and Ness wasn’t going to waste this moment.
Ness wasn’t sure how long it would take for Martin to finish the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and she was alarmingly surprised when he had the last few drops out of the bottle before the hour was up, and even by alcoholic standards, that was alarmingly excessive.
“How are you doing?” Ness was brought out of her focus by Eddie’s voice behind her.
“Hmmm?” Ness responded.
“Everything all right?” “Oh, yeah, thanks. I’ll actual
ly be leaving soon,” Ness turned and smiled at Eddie. “I hope to see you again, Ness. It was nice having someone like you in here,” Eddie smiled at her and walked back to the bar.
Ness wondered for a few seconds what he meant by that, but her thoughts were cut short by Martin standing up to leave. “Hey, buddy, can I call you a cab?” Eddie asked from behind the bar.
“Nah, I’m walking,” Martin said without turning back and headed for the door. Ness arose quickly and followed him out. The evening had become very dark with storm clouds starting to build in the distance, and Ness knew she would have to get home before it broke. But she didn’t want to stop following him just yet. It was at that moment that she saw Martin dig in his pocket and pull out his car keys, and Ness’ veins became filled with fire. All she could see was her mother’s broken body lying next to her because that monster couldn’t resist the urge to get behind the wheel after being wasted. Her mind was made up—she knew what she had to do.
“Excuse me,” she said in a soft voice when she caught up with Martin. Martin turned and could see an attractive, young woman standing behind him. “What do you want?” he growled. “My car has broken down and I’m worried AAA won’t make it here before the storm hits. Would you help me to get it started?” she asked sheepishly. “Fuck off,” Martin said as he turned towards his vehicle.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she answered, and her smile broadened. “What are you offering?” he looked over his shoulder. “If you get my car started and show me how good you are with your hands, I’ll show you how good I am with my mouth,” she winked at him.
Martin smiled, “Where’s your car?” “It’s parked around the block, but we can cut through the alleyway.” Martin nodded and walked past Ness and into the alley. He was a few steps ahead of her, and Ness had no idea what she was doing. She kept gulping and could see everything in the alleyway like if someone had flooded it with light. She had to control her shaking hands. It was then that she saw a beer bottle lying beside one of the dumpsters.
“Wait, don’t I know you from somew—” the impact sent him sprawling forward, and his head made a loud thud as it hit the ground. Martin whimpered and groaned. He slowly rolled over to see his attacker standing over him with a broken beer bottle. He could feel the warmth pulsating out of his head. “You bitch,” he muttered. Ness growled and launched herself onto his body and stabbed the broken bottle down onto his face with as much force as she could. The first blow penetrated his right eye which instantly started oozing blood and other ocular fluids. Martin screamed out in pain and tried to push Ness off him, but the second blow from the bottle was already returning. This blow slashed into his nose and penetrated his cheek. Martin’s screams were spraying blood now as it poured back into throat from his butchered nose.
Ness continued to slash at his face until it was no longer recognizable as anything human and finally stopped her slashing when Martin stopped moving. She stood up and looked at him. She could smell the alcohol in his blood that was pouring out of his mangled face. She could see a few air bubbles popping close to where his lips used to be. His breathing was shallow and labored. He gurgled as the blood continued to seep out of his wounds, until all of his breathing stopped.
Ness watched the life leave his body, and the feeling that she felt wasn’t what she expected. She expected to feel some sort of satisfaction, but now, all she could feel was cold. The rage had left it her, and it was replaced with a sense of dread. With shaking hands, Ness threw the makeshift murder weapon aside and ran for her car. She needed to get away from here.
4
“Fuck!” Ness uttered to herself as she drove on the interstate toward North Utica. She still had around 30 miles left before home, and even though she was tempted to drive as quickly as she could, she knew if she was pulled over for speeding now the officer would notice that she was covered in blood. She had to get home to think clearly because at the moment, all of her thoughts were in a panicked state. Ness looked at her hands and could see that they were much darker than normal. She rubbed them on her jeans, but nothing helped: she could still smell the iron and alcohol around her.
“Keep it together, Ness. You’re almost home,” she whispered repeatedly. 30 minutes later, Ness pulled onto her street and drove toward her home. It was already late, and she knew that her dad would most likely be asleep. Heck Elliott’s drinking habits had become much worse after losing his wife, and if he wasn’t on duty at the police station, he would normally fall asleep in his armchair with a bottle of Jim Beam in his hand.
Ness slowed down as she approached the house and could see her dad’s sheriff department Land Rover parked in the driveway. She killed the headlights of her Honda Civic and parked next to the Land Rover. The lights were on in the house, but she prayed that her dad had a few too many and passed out.
She exited her vehicle and approached the front door, but as she became more illuminated by the porch light, she could see how much blood she actually had on her—it was much more than she initially realized. If one of the neighbors—by chance—noticed her, it would be a definite death sentence. She moved out of the light and went around the back of the house. She approached the kitchen door at the back and could see that all the lights were off here, so she pulled out her keys and quietly unlocked the door.
Once inside, Ness moved quietly through the kitchen and could hear the TV playing in the living room. She had to pass by the living room on her way to the stairs. She neared the doorway to the living room and she slowly peered inside. She could see her father’s balding head hanging slightly backward over the headrest of the recliner, and she could see by his lack of movements that he was asleep. She moved past and went upstairs. She needed to get cleaned up and quickly.
Once Ness got into the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror, and what she saw truly horrified her. Martin’s blood had saturated all of her clothes, and it even matted large portions of her hair. She nicked one of the arterial branches in Martin’s face, and this caused a fountain of blood to connect with her as she cut away at his flesh. She stared at her hands and could see the stains within all of her skin folds and under her nails. Ness started sobbing.
“What have I done?” she wept as she started to scrub her hands with soap and water. She may have wanted Martin to die, but this wasn’t the way to do it. She gripped the side of the washbasin. Her knuckles blared white under her taut skin. It was the only thing she could do to keep from screaming. “Get a hold of yourself. He got what he deserved,” Ness took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. She stripped her clothes and hid them under the washbasin in a small cupboard. Laundry detergent wouldn’t remove this evidence, and she would need to burn all of them. She climbed into the shower and turned it on. Ness spent the next 30 minutes scrubbing her body, nails, and hair to remove all of the blood from her. As long as there was a small indication of any brown or red water still dripping from her body, Ness would continue to scrub until her skin felt raw.
With that done, Ness dried herself off and proceeded to brush her hair. She still needed to destroy her clothes and wipe her car down, but Ness’ mind was racing for all the things that she had to do to erase any indication that she was near Martin when he died.
But then, she stopped in her tracks. None of this really mattered. The crime scene was covered in her fingerprints and DNA, and there were most likely a few witnesses to the crime. It was only a matter of time until the Chicago Police Department showed up to arrest her. There was nothing that she could do about what she left behind at the crime scene. It was now entirely out of her hands.
Ness walked to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She sat on her bed and picked up the picture of her mom. She had no words. She thought she’d feel differently after Martin paid for his crimes, but this wasn’t what she expected. Ness lay down on her pillow while gripping the picture of her mother to her chest, and she closed her eyes. Ness drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Ness awoke with a start. The morning rays were streaming through her window and she squinted against them. She could hear her father’s Land Rover starting up, which meant that it was still before 7:00 A.M. She rolled over and could feel the dampness on her bed.
She then realized that she hadn’t dressed after her shower and was still in her wet towel.
She looked around her room and felt a sense of panic rising in her chest. She knew that she didn’t have much time left to have any chance of cleaning this up. She got dressed in a comfortable shirt and jeans before doing what she could to try and get rid of the evidence that linked her to Martin’s murder.
She ran downstairs and turned on the TV and flipped to the news stations covering Chicago. There didn’t appear to be any news on the grisly murder that occurred in the downtown area, so that could mean that the body hadn’t been discovered yet. But that alleyway had foot traffic from multiple bars and restaurants, so it was only a matter of time until Martin’s body was discovered. Additionally, Ness knew that Martin was the son of a very influential politician in Chicago, and it would cause an enormous manhunt after his body is discovered—with her being one of the primary suspects. Leaving the TV on the news, Ness ran back upstairs and retrieved the clothes from the cupboard under the washbasin. She ran back down and into the kitchen where she grabbed a box of matches and lighter fluid. Once she went outside, she grabbed one of the wheelbarrows out of the toolshed and placed the clothes inside while dousing them in lighter fluid.
Ness added a few logs of firewood onto the clothes to ensure that they burned effectively. She lit the match, and the clothes went up in flames. She didn’t use the fireplace in the house or the barbecue outside because she knew that cleaning them would be difficult. A wheelbarrow could be easily concealed in the toolshed. She had to make herself seem as innocent as possible for when the police came looking into her life and whereabouts.