Monday, October 08, 2012
My name’s Kat, Katherine Belinda Olivia Franklin. I’m widowed. How did I go from happily married woman to vengeful contract killer? Let me start from the beginning, as in four years ago… I was a community college student at Culver City, studying computer courses. I would have been better off at a four-year college had my mom not have used the college funds to fund her vices after being depressed, unemployed, and having legal troubles. A long time ago, she got busted for drug possession and driving under the influence. She had accidentally run over my little brother over with her car. Jonathan, my little brother, survived the ordeal but had months of physical therapy to go through. Despite our mother’s troubles, Jonathan and I have thrived throughout our school years. I was an honor student, student athlete, and social butterfly. Jonathan, on the other hand, was a math and science whiz and also captain of our school’s baseball, soccer, and basketball teams. He’s very determined to go back to sports once he’s finished with physical therapy. He is currently studying at UCLA, pursuing a degree in engineering. I had been looking after him while we were both in high school; aside from extracurricular activities, we often go to after-school clubs, youth centers, and neighbors’ houses when our mom was either sick or at work. Our dad was an insurance agent, he would sometimes take us on trips while he conducted business or go to conventions. Our parents split up when I was 6 and Jonathan was 4, our father had moved to Phoenix and lived there ever since. Our mother used to work at a daycare center and sometimes sell Avon on the weekends. She worked at the Happy Kids Daycare Center for nearly fifteen years till the owner became really sick and had to find another job. When Jonathan and I had graduated from high school, we had planned on going to college together. Our parents had been saving up for our college funds ever we were babies. Since our mother had lost her job and everything, she had to dip into our college money. Jonathan went to UCLA on a scholarship while I had to work for a living. As I worked several dead-end jobs, I had to stay at friends’ houses and I even chipped in on rent and other expenses. Some of my friends stay at Calabasas, Malibu, or even Santa Monica, some of them even got their own apartments. After completing courses at the community college, I got a job working at an accounting firm in Burbank. The office was then and there I met my would-be husband, Carl Stevenson. Carl was a manager of a local Bank of America branch. He was tall, smart, caring, and warm-hearted. He came from a well-made family, his father was a circuit court judge, his mother’s a doctor, and his younger sister’s a student studying interior design. Carl and I went on several dates and then got married a year later. We were each other’s firsts and our wedding at the church was nothing short of amazing. The next year, we were expecting our very first child together. Everyone was excited and happy for us. Carl was especially thrilled; he was in Boy Scout mode throughout my entire pregnancy. He made sure me and my unborn baby were healthy and happy, he was so prepared and dedicated that he bought a DVD about sex & pregnancy and took detailed notes to make sure I was satisfied in bed. He even planned on going to the dealership to trade his Ford Explorer for an Astro Van. To me, being married, having a good job, and expecting a baby made me feel complete, like everything fell into place. That was until one fateful night in October… I was at home one night staying off my feet and Carl went to the grocery store to get some groceries. Two hours have passed and I haven’t heard from him. The next morning, two officers from Fair Oaks police came to my doorstep. What they had told me had devastated me: Carl had been shot several times and was killed. They also told me that he was robbed at gunpoint, but Carl had fought off the robbers before he was shot. They should me the crime scene photos where Carl laid on the street bleeding. I cried my eyes out till they were bloodshot red. One of the officers even offered me some tissues and eye drops. The hardest part was to break the news to family and friends. Weeks later, Carl’s funeral was at the same church where we had our wedding. Everyone even Carl’s co-workers from the bank came in attendance. I was so upset and stressed; I couldn’t eat anything after the funeral. I drowned myself into my job all while pregnant and in mourning. I had suffered another loss a few months later; I had lost my baby after having a miscarriage as a result from a fall. It felt like my life was falling apart in front of me. As if that wasn’t enough, I had lost my job. I’ve been laid off from the accounting firm where I have worked for a year and a half. Those three big losses made me want to end my life, but I had to move on with it. Several days later, I got a visit from a federal agent while I was at home. The agent’s name was Daniel Calhoun and he was with the ATF. “Mrs. Stevenson, there’s something I should tell you about your late husband.” He said. “What about my husband?” I asked him. “Your husband had a secret occupation as a contract killer.” He replied. Shocked, I said, “What the hell? Why was my husband a contract killer? The only job my husband ever had was that of a bank manager.” “Him working as a bank manager was his day job. At night, he’s hired to kill very bad guys; I’m talking about street gangs, drug cartel, and Chinese Syndicate. Carl was part of an underground agency known as The Elite League.” Agent Calhoun explained. I had to go into the kitchen and take a moment to let this entire revelation sink into my mind. I took a deep breath and calmed down. I then came back into the living room. Agent Calhoun then gave me a large, clear plastic bag filled with Carl’s belongings. They include his cell phone, the keys to his Ford Explorer, a money clip filled with 20 and 100 dollar bills, a grocery list, a to-do list, a business card from a car dealership, his wallet, his house keys, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer. As soon as I let Agent Calhoun out the door, I got into my dark gray Nissan Altima and went out to do some errands. I went to the Download cyber café on Main Street and did three things online: applied to several entry-level jobs, updated my resume, and set up a profile on Adult Friend Finder. Then, I went to the gym for my workouts. I take several classes including hip-hop aerobics, pilates, belly dancing, yoga, strip aerobics, spinning, and Zumba. I recently signed up for four extra classes which are: MMA combat, kickboxing, Krav Maga, and cage fighting. Afterwards, I went to the insurance company. Angelina Cohen, the insurance agent, told me about my late husband’s insurance policy, which I wasn’t aware of till now. “Did you know that your husband had a life insurance policy?” asked the dark-haired, brown-eyed insurance agent. “No, I wasn’t aware of that.” I replied. “Your husband came into the office six months ago to update his insurance policy. It’s worth over a million dollars and also that he made you the sole beneficiary.” Angelina explained. Once I got the insurance check, I then went to a financial advisor’s office for some advice. He even suggested investment ideas and stocks, which I wrote down on paper. I went back home and worked around the house. As I did housework, my mind wondered about my late husband being a contract killer and what other things he had left behind. I went downstairs to the garage/laundry room after I finished the housework. I opened up Carl’s tool station. On the front were his tools, Carl was always good with his hands and was quite the handyman. Then, I looked inside the tool station behind the double doors where there was a heavy arsenal of guns, bullets, and various other weapons. The guns were in all sizes and varieties. There were handguns, Smith & Wessons, just to name a few. I had reminded myself to go to the firing range for some practice on gun use. Moments later, I took a few of the guns and some bullets and drove over to the firing range. There, I got plenty of practice and even learned about gun safety and handling guns. I was at the firing range for two hours and then I went to the gym for my workouts. After that, I went to the local newsstand and brought some magazines (women’s interest, finance, and guns). I made stops at the butcher, deli, fish market, florist, and the bakery. I got out my cell phone and texted a few of my friends and St. Martins, inviting them for dinner. I went back home and got the house ready for dinner with friends. I talked to my brother Jonathan online and then called my mother. I still keep in touch with her, despite our falling out. In the kitchen, I fixed beef bourguignon, a shrimp and scallop alfredo, a garden salad, and a rich, decadent triple chocolate bread pudding for dessert. I even decorated the dining room table with fresh flowers in a vase and a lovely tablecloth. I also took out two bottles of wine, a bottle of merlot and a bottle of white zinfandel, and set them at room temperature. 30 minutes later, my friends and the St. Martins arrived. Jeff and Mallory St. Martin, our neighbors, arrived together arm-in-arm like they are still in love. My best friend Clarissa Bailey (the successful event planner), Diana Allen (craft/stationery shop owner) with her boyfriend Calvin McCall, sisters Holly and Naomi Sharpe (chef and caterer), and twins Andrew and Andrea Gardner (travel agents) all came for dinner. I was so happy to see everyone; it had been a while since I had company since losing Carl. We all sat down at the dining room table, ate dinner, had wine, and conversed. After having dinner, we all had dessert and coffee. Though I was a good friend and hostess, I didn’t want anyone to see how I lonely I was. I even offered my guests doggie bags for their leftovers before they went home. After cleaning up the house, I then looked into Carl’s black leather wallet. It had several business cards, cash, a small picture of me, shopper’s cards, and receipts. On one card, I saw two sets of numbers: the first set of numbers had three numbers and one letter in front of them, which read “E234”. The second set of numbers read: “38-16-8”. I looked at the front of the card and it said “Lock & Stock Storage”. Then, I looked at Carl’s keys and I found a storage room key with the same letter and numbers. It made me wonder what else Carl has hidden from me. The next morning, I woke up and wrote down my to-do list for the day, which included going to the firing range, the gym, and also a little shopping. I got my day started with what I call a java shake, which is three flavors of Starbucks Double Shot mixed with vanilla soy milk. After my coffee fix, I first went to Lock & Stock. With the storage house key, I unlocked the lock using the combination on the card and opened the steel door. There, I saw three cars and two motorcycles. The three cars were: a silver Mercedes-Benz E-Class convertible, a navy blue Porsche Boxster, and a red Rolls Royce Phantom drophead coupe. I also noticed two motorcycles and one of them was a Harley-Davidson. The Custom 1500 Harley-Davidson was custom made with a black diamond solo spring seat, a black laced 16” wheel, black denim paint job, forward foot controls, drag handlebars, detachable leather locking saddlebags, black engine, chrome buckshot exhaust shield, and SE heavy breather performance air cleaner. The second motorcycle, on the other hand, was a black and chrome Yamaha Stryker. I then looked into the saddlebags on the Harley and found something. Inside the saddlebags were some insurance papers and also a state driver’s manual. I even looked inside the manual to find an insurance card. I got out my cell phone and called the number on the card that was attached to the insurance papers, which led to a male voice. His name was Colton Henderson and he worked for an insurance company that specializes in auto insurance. Colton told me that not only were the motorcycles and the cars were insured, but also that Carl had them in his name and he brought them over a period of three years. After leaving the storage unit, I took the state driver’s manual with me because I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle. I then went back home to change into my gym clothes. After that, I went to the gym for my multiple workouts. Three hours later, I went to the firing range for some more practice. I even made a quick stop to buy two pepper sprays and some mace because I believe a woman’s got to defend and protect herself. I practiced at the firing range for two hours before going home. As soon as I got home, I went online and Skyped with my little brother Jonathan; we talked about hanging out this coming weekend. He always looked forward to hanging out with me, even though he likes to hang out with his friends at school. Then, I got an email from a married couple I’ve been chatting with on Adult Friend Finder. I read and replied to their email as soon as I finished Skyping with Jonathan. The married couple and I chatted at the chatrooms and instant messaging. Simon (the husband) and Bianca (the wife) were their names and they live in Los Angeles. The three of us even changed pictures, fully clothed that is. Bianca’s tall, medium brown-haired, gorgeous woman and her husband Simon is easy on the eyes as well with his has dark blonde hair and blue eyes. I bet they have a lot of good times in and out of bed. I thought to myself. I then got an instant message from Clarissa and she asked me if I was interested in a girls’ Friday out next week with her and the other girls and I told her I’m there. As I chatted with Clarissa, I did some online shopping before putting my computer on standby. A few minutes later, I heard ringing from Carl’s cell phone and I then answered it. “Is this Carl?” a male voice asked. “No, this is his wife who is also his widow. Carl died a few months ago. Who am I speaking to?” I said. “My name is Kwan and I would like to meet you.” He said. “Well, would you like to come over to my house?” I asked Kwan. “Great, can I bring some friends along?” Kwan asked. “That’s fine.” I said. “We’ll be there in forty-five minutes.” Kwan replied. “I’ll see you then.” I said to him before hanging up. Kwan and his friends arrived at my front doorstep exactly forty-five minutes later. Kwan was a tall, slim, young Asian man with short black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes. His friends were three other men and two women. “Hello, Kwan and his friends. Welcome to my home, please come in.” I greeted them as we all walked into the living room. “My name’s Kwan. Kwan Huan-Lee.” He said to me. “I’m Kat. Kat Stevenson, it is nice to finally meet you.” I said to him as I shook his hand. “So what brings you to my neck of the woods?” I asked them. “We all wanted to meet you and also we need your help.” Kwan answered. Puzzled, I asked, “Why do you need my help?” “We are the Elite League and we need your help in taking down whoever killed Carl.” Kwan replied. “I was told by this ATF agent, Agent Calhoun, that you guys are contract killers. That you also kill very serious bad guys such as drug kingpins, street gangs, Chinese Syndicate, Mexican drug cartel to name a few.” I said calmly to them. “Yes, but we’re also good guys, along the likes of Robin Hood and his merry men. More advanced with additional skills. Allow me to introduce you to the rest of the League.” Kwan said to me.