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** HOWIE **

I stood up from the couch and marched steadily towards the front door, wishing the entire way that one of the other guys had been brave enough to stand up before me. The bell sounded again and I took a deep, reassuring breath before I pulled open the door. The two men remained fairly stone faced, but I could still detect a slight hint of confusion and surprise as they took me in.

“We’re looking for Ms. Lauren Kitt.” The one wearing the grey suit spoke first. “I’m Detective Bell and this is Detective Eaton. We’re with the Franklin Police Department.”

“Lauren – Ms. Kitt isn’t here.” I supplied. “We were told that nobody knows where she is at the moment.”

Detective Bell hesitated before he spoke again. “You’re one of the men from the band ... Mr. McLean?” He guessed.

“As if someone just mistook Howie for me!” AJ’s voice drifted into the foyer. “What the fuck is happening to the world?”

I cringed inwardly as the two detectives exchanged an unreadable glance. “I’m Mr. Dorough.” I corrected. “Howie Dorough.”

“Right. Sorry about that.” Detective Bell cracked a smile. “My wife is going to lecture me to no end when I tell her that I got it wrong.”

I smiled back at the now slightly less intimidating looking man and held the door open. “Would you like to come in?”

The two men nodded in acceptance and I hurriedly ushered them into the living room. The rest of the guys stared back at the detectives in silence. Kevin looked wary, AJ looked annoyed, and Brian looked to be on the verge of passing out. All in all, we were a sorry looking bunch.

“The alarm company notified us that the alarm had been deactivated.” Detective Eaton announced. He looked around the room and sighed. “We assumed that Ms. Kitt had returned, but I suppose that it was the four of you who deactivated the alarm.”

“That’s right.” I suddenly felt the overwhelming need to apologize. “Sorry to make you drive all of the way out here for nothing.”

“That’s all right, Mr. Dorough.” Detective Bell took the liberty of settling himself in one of the available wing chairs and his partner followed suit. “We were hoping to speak with a representative from your organization at some point before the end of the day anyway.”

“A representative from our organization?” AJ parroted, his eyebrows rising in derision. “I think you’ll find that we all represent ourselves.”

Detective Bell’s eye settled on AJ as I returned to my spot on the couch next to Kevin. “YOU must be Mr. McLean.”

AJ nodded. “That’s me.”

“I didn’t mean for my comment to be insulting.” Detective Bell explained. “We’ve dealt with a few other situations involving celebrities and ninety-nine percent of the time we’re instructed to direct all of our questions to either a PR representative or to a manager of some sort.”

“Well, in this case, you can speak to us directly.” Kevin interjected. “Our management has nothing to do with our relationship with Nick.”

Detective Bell nodded. He sat back in his chair and studied Kevin’s face. “Mr. Richardson?” He concluded.

“You’re correct.” Kevin returned the detective’s stare. “How did you know?”

“I had a fifty-fifty shot.” Detective Bell shrugged, a small smile playing on his face. He turned his attention to Brian. “That means that you must be Mr. Littrell.”

Brian nodded. He still looked like he was about to be sick. “Yes.”

“This must be a very difficult time for you.” Detective Eaton smoothly altered the course of the conversation. “The fact that the four of you are here suggests that you were all very close to Mr. Carter.”

I nodded, taking it upon myself to speak for the group when none of the others made a move to respond. “We’d like to know what happened to him.”

“So would we.” Detective Eaton deadpanned. “Mr. Carter’s body was found this morning in Pinkerton Park. The cause of death is assumed to be a single gunshot wound to the chest. To be fair, we still need to conduct an autopsy to determine the exact time and cause of death. Witnesses place him at a downtown club, High Rollers, between the hours of 11:00 P.M. and 12:00 A.M. His body was discovered by a group of partygoers at approximately 1:00 A.M. The evidence suggests that Mr. Carter was killed at an unknown location and that his body was then transported to the park. At this time, we don’t have any known suspects, although witnesses are saying that Mr. Carter left the club a little after 12:00 A.M in the company of at least one other man.”

“What about Lauren?” I asked. “She wasn’t at the club with Nick?”

Detective Eaton shook his head. “There is nothing to suggest that Ms. Kitt was with Mr. Carter at the club.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.” Kevin shook his head. “Nick wasn’t even into the club scene anymore. How do you know for sure that it was him?”

The two men exchanged a knowing look as Detective Eaton reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and began to speak. “We don’t know for sure, but the evidence that we have is more than just superficial. We’re waiting on the results of a DNA test, but it will take days to process the sample. Unfortunately, we don’t have a very large laboratory facility here in Franklin. We contract out our entire DNA testing needs to a lab in Nashville and the average turnaround time, including shipping, is upwards of three days.” He pulled out an all too familiar looking wallet and handed it to Kevin. “In addition to the security footage and the eye-witness accounts, this was recovered from the crime scene this morning. We’ve already checked it for prints; we weren’t able to lift any that were distinguishable. You’re more than welcome to keep it.”

Kevin turned the square of black leather over in his hands. He didn’t say a word as he flipped it open and slid Nick’s driver’s licence out of one of the card slots. He fingered the plastic gently, running his thumb across Nick’s face before sliding it back into position and setting the wallet on the table.

“You should also take a look at these.” Detective Eaton pulled a few glossy photos from his jacket and handed them to me. “They were taken from the club’s surveillance footage.”

I stared at the photos in dismay. They were blurry, but the man in the pictures definitely looked like Nick. The build was the same and several of his well-known tattoos were visible. Still, something about the images seemed off. I squinted to make out more details, and I quickly became so absorbed in the task of trying to identify Nick’s companion that I almost failed to realize that in every single picture Nick had a drink in his hand and what looked like a joint pressed between his fingers.

My mouth went dry and I hastily pawned the pictures off into Kevin’s hands. “Do you know if there were any drugs in his system when you found him?”

Brian’s head snapped up; his eyes were laced with hurt and indignation. “Nick wasn’t using anymore.”

“The pictures say otherwise.” It pained me to say the words, but I felt as though they needed to be said.

Brian snatched the pictures out of his cousin’s hands and began to rifle through the stack of glossy images. AJ leaned over Brian’s shoulder to look for himself, and his face immediately dropped in despair. Our worst fears had just been confirmed; it appeared as though Nick had once again become a victim of what he referred to as his ‘demons.’

“We won’t know what was in his system until we receive the results of the autopsy and the toxicology reports. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to conduct any tests until after the body has been officially identified. The official identification won’t occur for approximately another forty-eight hours or until Ms. Kitt returns, whichever comes first.” Detective Eaton explained. “We did, however, find illegal substances on his person; cocaine and marijuana.”

I licked my lips. My throat suddenly felt dry. “Nick had been doing so well …”

“Do the four of you know of anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Carter?” Detective Bell interjected. “Did he have any enemies?”

“No.” I shook my head and looked to the others for confirmation. “At least not that we know of.”

“Are you sure?” Detective Bell pressed. “What about a disgruntled employee? Perhaps he had an altercation with a member of your security team or your road crew?”

Once again, I shook my head. “If he did, he never said anything to us.”

“What about the rest of you?” Detective Bell looked at Kevin, AJ, and Brian in turn. “What do you think?”

“Howie’s right.” Kevin confirmed. “Nick got along well with everyone that we employ.”

“How was his relationship with your friends and family members?” Detective Bell was clearly grasping at straws. “Did he recently have a run in with an overzealous fan?”

AJ sighed. He had taken the pictures from Brian, and he was still staring at them with a dejected expression. “The fans loved Nick. They wanted to marry him, not kill him. Every once in a while, we encounter a fan who is a little over the top, but they’re never violent.”

“I see.” Detective Bell frowned. “What do you think, Mr. Littrell?”

Brian raised his wet eyes to the detective. “I think that I can’t talk about this anymore.”

“Brian’s taking this really hard.” I jumped in to take some of the pressure away from Brian. I was seriously worried that he was on the verge of a simultaneous physical and mental breakdown. “He and Nick were particularly close.”

Detective Bell continued to study Brian’s ashen face. “Perhaps we should take a break for now. I trust that one of you will contact us if any of you think of something that could be of some use to the investigation.”

Once again, I spoke for the group. “Of course.”

“One more thing …” Detective Eaton interrupted. “…have any of you been in contact with a Ms. Jane Carter?”

My stomach plummeted at the mention of Nick’s mother. She had called me more than ten times in the past few hours and I had purposefully ignored all of her calls. It was no secret that Nick had a rather tumultuous relationship with his entire family. There was a reason why he had purposefully created a Next of Kin Contact form; he had gone to great lengths to ensure that his parents would not be notified and left in charge of his affairs.

“I’ve spoken with her.” Kevin didn’t even bother to disguise his distaste. “I’ve let her know that the reports about Nick are apparently correct. Why do you ask?”

“She’s been calling the station every hour on the hour looking for an update.” Detective Eaton sighed. “For some reason, Mr. Carter did not want his family members to be his next of kin. Naturally, the police have been honouring his wishes, and we have not been supplying his mother with any information. I was just curious if she had contacted any of you.”

“Jane won’t be getting any more information out of me either.” Kevin’s voice was hard. “I’ve done more than enough for that woman.”

Detective Eaton nodded solemnly as he and Detective Bell stood up from their seats. He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “We’ll be in touch.”

I turned the small card over in my hand and forced a smile onto my face as I stood up to escort the two men to the door. “Thanks for the information.”

“Mr. Richardson, are you still willing to officially identify the body?” Detective Bell turned with his hand on the doorknob and looked past me into the living room. “Ms. Kitt has less than forty-eight hours to make an appearance before that responsibility defaults to you.”

“Yeah – Yes.” Kevin corrected. “As I told the NYPD this morning, I’m willing to do whatever it is that needs to be done.”

“We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Richardson.” Detective Bell acknowledged. He pulled open the front door and the late afternoon sun filtered into the foyer. “Like I said, we’ll be in touch.”