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

by Gail Caban

  “Hmmm . . . I wonder,” Ness said and typed in Lindsay07072016—the computer unlocked. “Wife’s name and anniversary date. Should have led with that, dummy. Wyatt is rather a simple creature, and he wouldn’t think of a difficult password in case he forgot it,” Ness shook her head for not thinking of it sooner.

  The police database isn’t overly difficult to navigate, but it can be confusing for people that have never used it before. Fortunately for Ness, she had seen her brother and father use it countless times and found her way very quickly. She pulled out the paper with the car’s registration that Eddie scribbled down, and she typed it into the database. The vehicle was a new, black BMW M3 and was registered to Travis Jones. Ness clicked on his name, and there were several mugshots and records under his name. She recognized him immediately from the other night, and it was definitely one of the guys that invaded her booth.

  “Obviously this piece of pond scum has had multiple run-ins with the law,” Ness commented and read that he was arrested for assault and battery, solicitation of a minor, driving under the influence, and then Ness saw that he was under investigation for the assault and rape of a minor. Ness continued to read and saw that this report was uploaded only a few nights ago. Eddie’s sources were correct, but Ness couldn’t understand how this 20-year-old was able to still be out on the street instead of being behind bars. Then she realized that a BMW M3 was a very expensive vehicle for such a young person to be driving. “His parents are wealthy and most likely have a lot of political influence,” Ness said to herself and sat back in her chair. She sighed heavily.

  “Alright Travis Jones: let’s find out who your friends are,” Ness said, sitting forward again and accessing a few social media accounts. It took less than an hour for Ness to track down the correct Travis Jones on Facebook and then link his two friends with him. Ness scrolled further down the page and saw that their names were Jarrod Hastings and Nathan Lewis, and the three of them were enrolled at the Illinois Institute of Technology, all studying degrees in business. Ness used their names and reversed searched them on the police database and saw that they had criminal records similar to that of Travis Jones, with many of the records being sealed.

  “They obviously do come from positions of influence,” Ness thought out loud, and wrote down as many personal details that she could find about the trio. She was about to turn off the computer when she stopped and thought, Is Eddie really the person that he claims to be?

  She typed in 397 Riverview Road, Northbrook, and she could see that the house was owned by an Edward Rose. She clicked on his name to check for any corresponding police reports and there were none—not even an unpaid parking ticket. “Well this isn’t going to be much help,” she said as she closed the database and searched for Eddie Rose on Google. Even though most people don’t find anything of consequence doing searches like these, this wasn’t one of those times. Eddie Rose seemed to make quite a stir in the chess community up until 1993. Ness opened the first news article that popped up in her search and saw that Eddie Rose was a noteworthy international chess master with a rating of 2459. Ness was surprised—she had never met someone with a tournament rating like that.

  “That’s approaching grandmaster status,” Ness said out loud. “Bloody hell.”

  Ness continued to read and saw that Eddie Rose suddenly stopped playing altogether. No one could convince him to get back into the game. That’s probably because he started playing another game, Ness thought. Ness sat quietly for a few minutes, but she knew that if she was going to have any sort of advantage in this game, she was going to need to dig into En Passant’s M.O. and victims. She leaned forward but suddenly stopped herself. She was scared of what she was going to find; however, she had to find out for herself, so she reopened the police database and started typing in the particulars.

  Ness felt a vibration on the desk while she was typing and abruptly stopped. “Shit! The garage,” Ness exited the database and rapidly turned off the computer before she heard the front door open.

  “Ness, you here?” Lindsay called out from the door.

  “I’m in the den,” Ness said, moving everything back to where it was.

  “What are you doing in here?” Lindsay asked, smiling from the doorway.

  “I wasn’t sure where to go, so I thought I’d just get comfy in here until one of you got home.

  “Ness, this is only a two-bedroom house. If Wyatt and I stay in the one bedroom, it’s easy to assume that you’ll be in the other,” Lindsay remarked rather sarcastically. “Right . . .” Ness sighed.

  “I’ll show you up,” Lindsay leaned forward and grabbed Ness’ bag off the floor. “I can carry that,” Ness tried to protest. “Don’t be silly: you’re our guest!”

  “No, I’m actually family, so I don’t count as a guest,” Ness smiled.

  Lindsay dropped the bag and walked forward to Ness grabbing her in a firm embrace. “You are our guest when you haven’t been here in such a long time,” Lindsay whispered into her ear.

  “Thank you for having me, Lindsay. It really means the world.”

  “Hey, unlike other women, I’m actually rather fond of my sister-in-law,” Lindsay laughed and grabbed the bag again. “I’ll show you to your room.” They went upstairs, and Lindsay dropped Ness’ bag on the guest bed. “This is yours for as long as you need it. I’m just going to grab the groceries out of the car, and then I’ll whip something up for us for lunch.”

  “Sounds great, but aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Ness asked.

  “It was a quiet day, so I locked up early. Besides, I was quite excited to spend some time with you,” Lindsay said and walked downstairs.

  “I’ll come help you in a minute, I just want to unpack my clothes,” Ness called out. “Take your time,” Lindsay called back from downstairs.

  Ness started unpacking her clothes and packed them into the dresser; then she took the paper with all of the details that she wrote down and hid it in her clean underwear. I’m going to have to think up a good excuse for bailing on them tomorrow with it being a Sunday, Ness thought worriedly. Once she was unpacked, she walked downstairs to see what Lindsay was up to in the kitchen.

  “Would you like a glass of wine with lunch?” Lindsay asked as Ness entered the kitchen.

  “Lunchtime drinking—I like it,” Ness laughed. “We might as well go a bit crazy,” Lindsay answered and started tossing the ingredients for a light chicken salad.

  “Is white alright? I don’t think a red will go very well with this,” Lindsay asked.

  “Perfect.”

  “There’s a chilled bottle of chardonnay in the fridge. Would you pour us two glasses?”

  Ness arose from her seat and grabbed two glasses from the kitchen cupboard, pouring the wine while Lindsay dished up the salad. They sat on the stools at the kitchen counter and dove into their salads. “You know, you’re one of the few people that I know that actually makes salad taste good,” Ness took another bite and then a sip of her wine. “Thank you, Ness,” Lindsay laughed. “I’ll take the compliment.”

  “So, tell me, what have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in such a long time.”

  “Been moping around, if I’m honest. But I’ve decided to get back on my feet, and I was thinking about re-enrolling back into school.”

  “Ness, that’s great!” Lindsay exclaimed.

  “I’m only a few credits short of getting my journalism degree, so I figured I might as well finish it and start working toward my independence. That’s what mom would have wanted,” Ness diverted her gaze.

  Lindsay covered Ness’ hand with hers. “I’m proud of you Ness, and Sarah would have been proud of you, too. You two always had such a wonderful relationship—it made me wish that I had one like that with my mom.” Ness suddenly went pale.

  “Ness, what’s wrong?”

  “We had a fight on the night of the accident. I can’t even remember about what, but the last words that I said to her were rather harsh,” Ness’ eyes
welled up with tears.

  “Ness, your mom knew that you loved her, and family members do fight sometimes. It happens. That doesn’t change the way that you feel about each other,” Lindsay said, trying to console Ness. Ness nodded and eventually smiled.

  “Would you like to come to church with me and Wyatt tomorrow?” Lindsay asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh, no, thank you though. I was actually thinking of going back to Chicago tomorrow and have a walk around campus. I’d like to hit the library for a few hours and catch up on some reading before I go back,” Ness said. Please buy that story.

  “That’s a great plan,” Lindsay stated.

  Ness and Lindsay finished their lunch, and Ness offered to wash up. Lindsay went upstairs to sort a few things out and unpack some other items that she bought at the shops. Ness dried the last few dishes and went upstairs.

  “Hey, Lindsay,” she called out.

  Lindsay popped her head out of the bedroom, “What’s up?”

  “I’m just going to have a nap for half an hour or so. Feeling a bit drained.”

  “It might be the wine,” Lindsay laughed.

  Ness walked into her room, collapsed on the bed, and was quickly whisked away into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  10

  Wyatt pulled into the driveway a little after 6:00 P.M. and had to navigate around Ness’ Civic. She always had the knack of parking badly; Wyatt shook his head but managed to get his vehicle around Ness’. He closed the garage and walked toward the front door.

  “Hello, you two,” Wyatt said loudly as he walked inside.

  “Shhhh,” Lindsay called from the kitchen. “Ness is asleep.”

  “Really? It’s almost dark out. How long has she been asleep for?” Wyatt asked as he put his keys in the bowl on the table at the front door. “Since lunch.”

  “Seriously? That’s a long time to be out.”

  “I think she’s been a bit drained recently,” Lindsay whispered as she walked closer to Wyatt and kissed him on the lips. “How did your chat go with her?” Wyatt enquired.

  “Well. I actually think she’s trying to turn her life around. She told me she’s going to re-enroll in school to finish her degree.”

  “That explains why she’s been going to Chicago so regularly,” Wyatt smiled.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Go wash up. Dinner’s almost ready, and you smell pretty bad. What did you do, run a marathon today?” Lindsay asked cheekily. “Ness told you, huh?” Wyatt started laughing. Lindsay nodded.

  “I’ll quickly hop in the shower before dinner,” Wyatt said as he went upstairs and straight into the bathroom. He could see that Ness’ bedroom door was still closed. Wyatt stripped his uniform and turned the shower up to as hot as he could handle. Even though he exercised regularly, full-on sprints when you haven’t stretched can result in an uncomfortable amount of stiffness the next day, and Wyatt wasn’t in the mood to sound like an old man every time he got up from his desk. He let the steaming hot water stream all over his skin and over his sore muscles. He could feel the hot water relaxing him; he wanted to spend as much time in the shower as he could, but he didn't want to be late, so he cut his shower short and dried himself off before heading to the bedroom.

  “You almost done?” Lindsay shouted out from the kitchen below. “We’re waiting for you.”

  Wyatt passed the guest bedroom and could see the door was open. He hurried into their bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and T-shirt and ran downstairs.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, but something smells great,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. “I made a couple of pizzas,” Lindsay said.

  Wyatt eyed his sister, “You were really out of it, Ness. But, then again, I’d also be out of it if I was gallivanting all hours of the night,” Wyatt pulled a humorous expression as he entered the kitchen.

  “Whatever,” Ness responded.

  They all grabbed a few slices of pizza and moved into the dining room. Wyatt grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack and popped it before pouring three glasses.

  “I see that you two are still avid wine drinkers,” Ness remarked. “Damn straight,” Wyatt laughed as they all sat down at the table.

  “Are you coming with us tomorrow, Ness?” Wyatt asked.

  “No, I’m actually heading back to Chicago to spend some time on campus again.”

  “Fair enough, but next week Sunday, you have no choice. All of us—including Dad—are all heading to Grandpa’s cabin for lunch, and you better be there.” Ness saluted,

  “Yessir.” Wyatt responded by pulling a face at Ness, “I’m glad that you’re staying with us. It’s about time that you got out of the house.”

  Once the pizza slices were finished, the trio went into the kitchen to clean up; once they were done, they said goodnight and went upstairs. Ness walked into her bedroom and closed the door.

  Wyatt waited until he and Lindsay were in the room alone before he asked, “Are you sure she’s telling the truth?”

  “What do you mean? Why would she lie, Wyatt?” Lindsay responded in a whisper.

  “I don’t know. Just a funny feeling that’s all.”

  “But, now that you say that, she did seem a bit jumpy when I got here this afternoon,” Lindsay remembered.

  “Where was she when you came in?” Wyatt asked.

  “She was in the den.” “That’s strange. Why didn’t she just come up here to the guest room? She has been here before,” Wyatt said rhetorically. Lindsay just shrugged.

  “Honey, would it be alright if I worked for a little while? There are just a few things I want to wrap up before I come to bed.” “That’s perfect. I’ll run a bubble bath, but if you hurry, maybe you can join me,” Lindsay gave Wyatt a sultry kiss on the cheek. “I definitely won’t be long,” Wyatt responded as he went downstairs and into the den.

  Wyatt sat down at the desk and immediately noticed that the picture of Lindsay had been moved. He picked it up and then looked at the dark computer screen.

  “Surely not,” he whispered. Wyatt’s suspicions were running high at this point, so he logged onto the desktop and accessed the police database. Although search history isn’t stored, the login history is. After a few mouse clicks, he saw that Wyatt Elliott was logged onto the database at 1:34 P.M. Wyatt leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk as he supported his head with his hands. I’d already left on another call at that time. What are you up to, Ness? Wyatt rubbed his temples as the tension was starting to build.

  Wyatt opened the small cabinet beneath the desk and pulled out a small black pouch from the back. He pulled out a small round transmitter and stared at it for a few seconds. I know this is an invasion of privacy, but there’s something going on here, Wyatt pulled out his cellphone and turned the transmitter on. He linked the transmitter to a tracking app on his phone and stood up from the desk. Peering up the stairs to ensure no one was close by, Wyatt quietly opened the front door and stepped outside. He walked to Ness’ car and felt for a good place under the rear bumper. Once he found the right nook, he peeled off the tape on the transmitter to expose the sticky back side of it and he stuck it into the nook. Wyatt quickly walked back to the front door and peered inside. There was no movement upstairs, and he quickly walked back into the den to shut the computer down. Wyatt almost dropped his phone as it started vibrating in his hand. “Wyatt Elliott,” He answered.

  “Hey, Wyatt. It’s Robert Wilcox. I’m sorry to be calling you so late, but there’s something that you need to know.”

  “Did you find Henry Martin?” Wyatt whispered into the phone. No response.

  “Robert?” “Well, sort of . . . what’s left of him, anyway.”

  11

  Ness hacked at his face until there was only blood and torn flesh remaining, but he wouldn’t stop moving; she continued to slice. She stabbed for his gooey, oozing eyes. Nothing wanted to kill him: he just kept fighting back. She could smell the metal. He growled.

  “Why won’t you fucking die?” she screame
d and slashed again. He caught her hand, and the broken bottle wouldn’t go further. Ness tried to get out of his grip, but he was too strong—she couldn’t get away. She stood up against his power, but he was relentless. Ness kicked as hard as she could, and he fell back, releasing his grip. She turned and ran with the bloody mess in hot pursuit. Ness looked back over her shoulder and tripped, landing on the hard ground. He roared and leaped on top of her, covering her with his blood . . . .

  Ness sat up in bed, completely drenched in sweat. She was out of breath, and her heart drummed in her ears. So much for not dreaming, Ness thought as swung her legs off the bed and drank the water from the glass next to her bed. The coolness of the water calmed her nerves. She picked up her phone and saw that it was 5:15 A.M. There’s no way I can go back to sleep now, Ness got up and grabbed a change of clothes and her toiletries before heading to the bathroom. The hot shower felt invigorating against Ness’ skin, and all of the negative emotions that she experienced in the dream seemed to dissipate with each passing moment in the shower.

  Once she was finished, Ness got dressed, returned to her bedroom, and stretched for a while. She needed her muscles to be ready for whatever the day—or Eddie—threw at her. When she was finished, she saw that it was just before six, and she decided to leave for Chicago early. She wrote a note for Wyatt and Lindsay and left it by the table at the front door and got in her car.

  The drive to Chicago was peaceful. Because it was a Sunday morning, there wasn’t much traffic at this time of day. Ness rolled her window down, and she could feel the cool air rush over her face as she was on the freeway. At 7:45 A.M., Ness pulled up outside of Eddie’s and walked up to the front door and knocked. Eddie opened the door. “I’m glad that you’re early. We have plenty of work to do,” Eddie said as he closed the door behind Ness, and he led her into the living room. “What did you find out?”

  “The car is registered to Travis Jones, and his friends are Jarrod Hastings and Nathan Lewis. They’re all studying business degrees at the Illinois Institute of Technology. They have separate apartments in the same apartment block close to campus on West 33rd Street. They have had multiple run-ins with the law, but it seems that their parents are in a position of power,” Ness read the details from her notes.