“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.
She returned to the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of antiseptic fluid and gloves to wipe down any traces of Martin from her car. She spent the next hour scrubbing her vehicle, feeling completely paranoid that she was missing an area. She had been around her family members long enough to know how police find evidence. Ness walked back into the house and looked at the TV. There was still no report of a dead body in downtown Chicago, and this was starting to worry her. She needed to try and ascertain what the cops knew. So, she went upstairs and showered again before getting changed into clean clothes. Once she was done, she headed for the door.
Ness pulled into the sheriff station and parked next to her dad’s Land Rover. This was a relatively small department. Being responsible for a village of a population of a little over 1,300 people, they only required around 20 deputies and one sheriff. Ness grabbed the box of fresh, powdered donuts that she purchased on her way to the department and headed inside.
“Mornin’ Nessie,” a sweet, southern voice said as she walked towards the administration desk. “Good morning, Agatha,” Ness smiled at the large, African American woman seated behind the desk. Although not a police officer, Agatha Williams was
