Former Music Industry Prince Questioned in Student’s Murder

Brian Littrell, Music’s Darling, Involved in Murder Investigation

Did Brian Littrell Brutally Murder a Hensley Student?

Brian shook his head at the last headline for an editorial.  It was definitely more direct than most of the headlines he’d read.  The people who’d sent in letters and opinions were mostly denying that he could have had anything at all to do with Jessica’s death.  While he wanted to be thankful that people weren’t accusing him of murder, he still felt sick at the thought that one of his students had been horribly murdered. 

It had been just over a week since her body had been found outside of the theater arts building, and there was still caution tape cordoning off the area where she’d been discovered.  Every time Brian passed it, he felt nausea swirl through him and remembered the young woman with the sweet voice who had just wanted to be a famous singer.

Now, she’d never have the chance.

Folding the newspaper up, he tossed it aside and leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes.  In the days since the murder, he’d been unable to really and truly sleep because he’d had nightmares of being put on death row for murder.  He knew he hadn’t killed anyone, but he was worried that whoever had was determined to place the blame on his doorstep.

Isabella had been right.  After considering the issue from all angles, he’d come to realize that the real murderer had made the trail of evidence so perfect.  His paperweight, his fingerprints, his office building, and the fact that Jessica had been known to have a vocal lesson with him that ended just minutes before her death.  He was surprised the police hadn’t shown up yet to drag him off to prison.

At the knock on his door, he jolted and sat up straight.  “Yes, come in,” he called out distractedly.  The door swung open and the two detectives, who had first questioned him, entered his office.  Automatically, Brian stood.  “Uh, Detectives.  I wasn’t expecting you.”

“We didn’t think you would be,” Detective Jensen replied.  He gestured to the chairs across from Brian’s desk.  “Do you mind if we sit?”

“No, no.  Of course not.” Brian, too, sat.  His heart was beginning to pound in worry.  “So, what can I do for you?”

Detective Taylor pulled out a plastic bag and passed it across the desk to him.  “We wanted to return this.  There’s no reason for us to hold onto it any longer.  In any case, all we found were fingerprints—yours and Miss Sullivan’s.”

“Does this mean I’m not a suspect?” Brian stared at one of his beloved souvenirs from abroad.  Now, he didn’t even want to touch it.

“We never said you were a suspect,” Jensen replied.  “However, we do have a few more questions for you, regarding the case.”

Brian rubbed his hands wearily over his face.  The dark shadows under his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the detectives.  “Of course, you do.  Why wouldn’t you?” He sighed.  “Well, let’s hear them.”

The detectives exchanged glances before Jensen flipped open a notepad.  “Mr. Littrell, you’d had Jessica Sullivan in your class for six weeks.  Is that correct?”

“Yeah.  All you’d have to do to find that out is go through her registration, though.” Brian frowned.  “What does that have to do with the investigation?”

“When did you start arranging vocal lessons with her?”

Brian’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to think back.  “I don’t know.  Maybe a couple weeks into the semester.  I think I must have written it down in my planner, though.  Let me check.” Pulling open his drawer, Brian found his schedules and, riffling through them, he located what he was searching for.  “Okay.  The first lesson was on September sixteenth, which was about three weeks into the semester.”

“During your lessons, did Miss Sullivan ever seem nervous or anxious around you?” Taylor asked, his eyes sharp as he studied Brian’s face.

“Nervous?” Brian chuckled.  “Every one of my students was nervous or excited or anxious around me for the first few weeks.  I guess I didn’t really think about the effect me being a professor would have on my students.  Anyway, to answer your question, no, she didn’t.  Jess was one of the few students I had who wasn’t afraid to ask questions.  That’s how she got the vocal lessons.  She just walked up to me at the end of class and asked straight out.  I have to admire that,” he remembered with a smile.  “And then, before the end of the week, she’d had two of my other students arrange for lessons with me, too.”

Jensen scribbled notes onto the pad of paper before looking up again.  “Mr. Littrell, you said that Miss Sullivan’s lesson was over at seven the day of her murder.  Is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know of any reason why she would’ve still been around the building nearly twenty minutes later?”

Brian frowned.  “I don’t get it.  How am I supposed to know that? I thought you said that she was found at seven-thirty.”

“Campus security’s cameras show her leaving this building at approximately seven-eighteen.  Just twelve minutes before she was discovered dead.” Taylor paused.  “Did she leave your office at seven?”

Brian was annoyed now.  “Yes.  Yes, she did. Look, Detectives.  I don’t know of any reason why she would’ve still been in the building because I didn’t exactly live in her head.  I just knew her through class, and I don’t know where she was planning to go after leaving my office.  If you have the damn security tape, you also probably saw that I left when I told you I did.  So, no, I didn’t see Jess or know where she went after she left my office.” He was nearly yelling and had to stop, take a breath.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just a little on edge here, and having you come in here and interrogate me isn’t exactly helping.”

“A young woman is dead, and we’re just trying to do our jobs, Mr. Littrell.  Perhaps you’ll think of your former student before yourself and help us.” Jensen flipped his notepad shut and stood.  “Thanks for your time.  We’ll be in touch.”

Brian watched them go before letting go and kicking his desk out of frustration.  When it ended up hurting more than he’d expected, he frowned and rubbed his injured toes.  “Damn it. That didn’t go at all the way I wanted it to.”

“It doesn’t seem like much is these days.”

His head shot up and found Jenny leaning against the doorway.  “Hey! I didn’t know you were going to drop by today.”

She stepped into the room and plopped into one of the chairs in front of his desk.  “If you’d known, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise, would it? Besides, I’d been meaning to make it out to see you ever since the murder came up.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ve had enough of hearing about it.” Brian frowned at his still throbbing foot.  “I’m sick of the suspicious looks and the murmuring.  People don’t think I can hear it or see it, but I can.  Damn it, I didn’t kill anyone!”

Jenny smiled sympathetically.  “Anyone who knows you, really knows you, would know you didn’t do it.  No matter what the evidence says.”

Brian found himself staring at the paperweight in the evidence bag in front of him.  “Speaking of evidence.” He nudged the bag.  “This is one of my favorite pieces, and I can’t enjoy it anymore.”

Jenny picked up the bag gingerly and studied the globe.  “It’s beautiful, Brian.  You got it in Paris?”

“My mom did.  She gave it to me as a souvenir of the first time I played a show there.” He sighed.  “I’ve had it for six years, and now I can’t bear the thought of having it sit on my desk.”

“I’m sorry, Brian.”

He shook his head.  “It’s stupid of me to be so hung up on an object.  The past week’s been pretty hellish.  I’ve had a couple students drop my class because their parents were worried, and I’m down to two students to vocally coach, instead of four.”

“Has the administration said anything to you?”

“Yeah.  President Turner dropped by and told me that I wasn’t at fault and not to let the whispering get to me.  Apparently, the Board has complete faith and trust in me, and they’re behind me one hundred percent.”

“Well, good.” Jenny stood.  “You know what you need?”

Brian shook his head.  “No, but I’m betting you’ll tell me.”

She held out a hand.  “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“You ask way too many questions,” she said with a smile.  “Just come with me, okay? Trust me?”

He did.  She was the one friend he could completely rely on at the moment.  “Yeah, okay.” He came around his desk and, placing his hand in hers, let her pull him out of his office.

***

As several days passed, the campus-wide hysteria caused by the murder slowly calmed.  Brian’s nerves were much eased by the way things seemed to go back to normal.  The weather turned cool, with the temperature dropping into the forties at night.  On Halloween, Brian transformed his home into a haunted mansion and ended up guiding nearly three hundred people through the ghost-filled rooms with the noises of the moaning dead and damned filling the air.  Hearing the nervous giggling and the shrieks of terror was incredibly satisfying to him as it meant he’d done his job well.  When he had several requests to do the same thing the following year, he patted himself, figuratively, on the back and grinned.

His class had returned to normal, and he was back on track with the original syllabus.  Midterms had gone smoothly, and the majority of his students had done remarkably well.  He decided most of the credit was probably on their part because he’d been so distracted during the weeks before the test to really teach well.  But, they’d pulled things off well, and he was pleased.  When the head of the music department had sat in one of his classes, she’d been very impressed.  Another point, Brian thought, in his favor to offset the pall the murder had cast on his name.

However, his sense of happiness and relaxation came to a halt three weeks before Thanksgiving.

Brian slipped into the November faculty meeting ten minutes late, and, hoping to find a seat inconspicuously, he snuck into the back row and plopped himself down next to Professor Fitzgerald out of the chemistry department.  Fitzgerald shook his head and muttered about young people and their lack of responsibility, and Brian fought to suppress his grin.  He knew the older professor liked him, even if the man was grumpy and reluctant to show it.

“…glad to see the disturbance caused by the murder of one of our own students has calmed down.  Unfortunately, the murderer has yet to be apprehended.  I’d like to frankly state here, today, that Hensley in no way puts the blame for Jessica Sullivan’s death on Brian Littrell.  He has our full faith behind him, and, anyone who would like to think differently, can take up the matter with myself and President Turner.” Professor Elizabeth Harris, the voted chair of the Hensley faculty for the year, took the time to study each and every professor to be certain they understood the implications of her words.  She smiled a bit when her eyes met Brian’s. Then, she turned back to the agenda and continued on.

Brian tried to focus, to pay attention, but his mind was wandering.  He hadn’t slept much the night before because Jenny had dragged him off to a performance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and it had been nearly three before he’d gotten home.  As much as he despised the lack of sleep, he was glad that she was helping him get out and about.  The busy bee that had been Brian Littrell once upon a time was no longer in existence.  If it had been up to him, he would’ve stayed at home as much as possible, supervising the renovations and working on some of it himself.  He was proud of the fact that he was becoming skilled at wielding hammer and nails.  The first floor powder room that he’d redone completely on his own was his pride and joy.

“And, lastly, there is a very special announcement today.” Professor Harris paused and gestured for someone to come forth.  “Let’s give our attention to Lucas McCall and Isabella Flynn at this time.”

Brian’s attention was back on.  As he watched Lucas and Isabella take their place behind the podium, hands linked, he couldn’t help the fluttering in his belly or the slow, sick feeling that coated his insides.  His own hands fisted together, and he took a deep breath to try to dispel the nerves.  There was no reason for him to be nervous at all, he scolded himself.  It wasn’t as though he were about to be hit with bad news or something.  For all he knew, they were about to announce that they’d made a big discovery on the research project they’d been working on for the past year.

“Thanks for hanging on for just a few moments,” Lucas began, a nervous smile playing on his lips.  “Uh, Dr. Flynn—Isabella,” he corrected, “and I just wanted to announce that, at the end of the spring semester, we will be getting married.  It’s taken me quite some time to wear her down,” he added and chuckles were heard throughout the room, “but she finally accepted this past weekend.”

Isabella raised her left hand, and Brian saw the glint of the diamond from where he sat and had to admit it was a whopper.  “It must have been the ring that convinced me,” she began jokingly.  “But, it’s true, after two years of being together, we’re taking the plunge.”

“And, maybe, almost twenty years from now, we’ll add another member to Hensley,” Lucas added, grinning.   Brian didn’t feel like smiling back.

Applause echoed off the walls of the large room, and, through the congratulations, Isabella’s eyes met Brian’s.  She couldn’t tell what was in his eyes, but she recognized the swirl of emotion all the same and felt her smile falter.  Even as her insides filled with turmoil, she kept her gaze steady on Brian’s and felt Lucas’s hand squeeze hers comfortingly.

***

Isabella pulled through the gates just ahead of Brian’s car, and, when she’d parked and gotten out of her car, she marched straight over to Brian.  “What the hell is your problem?”

“Excuse me?” Brian turned away from her accusing eyes and retrieved his bag from the backseat of his car.  “I believe you’re the one standing on my property without my permission. I think I get to ask that question.”

“Damn it, Brian!” She slammed his door shut for him, and he got a glimpse of just how angry she was. 

Shaking his head, he walked up the front steps and, unlocking his door, let her in first before following her in.  “I don’t know what you want from me, Isabella.  I haven’t done or said anything to you in weeks, so I’m not quite sure why you’re so irritated all of a sudden.” He paused, his gaze flitting over the ring on her left hand.  “Oh, and before I forget, congratulations on your engagement.  I’m sure you and Lucas will be very happy together.”

“There! See, that’s what my problem is.” She waved her hand in his face.  “We announce we’re getting married, and you just take it in stride.  You just act like nothing is wrong. Well, damn it, I saw your face when we made that announcement, and you sure as hell weren’t okay!” 

Brian dropped his bag on the floor and stalked into the kitchen, Isabella on his heels. Pouring himself a glass of water and downing two aspirin, he hoped they would dispel the headache that banged away inside his skull.  “I just don’t get it.” His voice was quiet, in contrast to hers.  “No, I really don’t. I don’t know what to tell you—or what it is you want to hear.”

“I wanted you to fight it!” The instant the words were out of her mouth, she froze. She hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even meant to think it, but it had come out anyway.  Now that it was out, she knew she couldn’t take it back. 

Brian’s eyes filled with hopelessness for a moment before they cleared.  “What good would it do? You didn’t want me ten years ago, and it would be like hitting my head against the wall. Did you want me to beat my chest and challenge Lucas to a duel over you? Sorry, that’s just not in my plans.  The man loves you and wants to marry you. Why are you fighting it?”

Now, it was her turn to sigh.  Isabella turned away from his steady gaze and studied the way the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains he’d hung on the kitchen windows.  “I don’t know.” She sent him a rueful smile over her shoulder.  “I’m in the same boat with you, Brian.  I just don’t know.” 

“Do you know what you’re doing? Do you know what’s going to happen if you keep playing games with people’s lives, with your fiancé’s heart?” 

“Brian.” She wanted to tell him how uncertain she was of anything and everything—except what she felt for him.  But she knew she couldn’t.  There were some things that were better left unsaid.  “I’m trying to muddle my way through it.  You’re right.  I don’t what it is I’m really doing, but I do know one thing.  I don’t want to hurt Lucas, not at all.”

He laughed a little, couldn’t stop himself.  “Right, of course. You don’t want to hurt Lucas, but you were perfectly fine hurting me. Hell, you couldn’t even tell me to my face that you didn’t want me anymore.  You sent me a letter, a damn letter and expected me to be fine and dandy about the whole thing!” His voice was no longer quiet and certainly not controlled.  “Do you know what you did to me?” 

“Brian.” She could only manage a whisper.

“You damn near killed me! For the first few weeks, I could barely function.  There I was, ready to start on my music career, one I’d dreamed of all my life, and I could barely get out of bed.  Once I finally managed it, I was numb.  I spent over a year trying to figure out why you hadn’t wanted me, why I just hadn’t been good enough, why everything I’d believed about us had been a lie.” He’d never told anyone what he was telling her, but, somehow, he knew she was the only one who deserved to know the truth.  “I’ve spent the last nine years in an after-Isabella mode, and I’ve been okay.  In fact, there were some days when I convinced myself I was happy.  Hell, I had myself so well convinced that I almost married a woman who only wanted me for my bank account.” And the bitterness over that had yet to fade from his system. “And now, I’m back here, trying to make some sense of my life and do something important, and you want me to fight for you? Absolutely not.” His eyes were flashing fire, and she’d never seen him this way.  “So you think long and hard before you hurt Lucas, Isabella, because he might not get over it as well as I have.”

She couldn’t take his hurt, his pain, his rage, and fired back with her own.  “Stop it! Just stop. I wouldn’t have hurt you, I wouldn’t have left you if I hadn’t known for sure that you would break my heart first.  I was in love with you, and none of it was a lie.”

They stared at each other, shocked at the other’s confession. Before she could take a step away, Brian grabbed her arm.  “Explain.  You’d better explain what you just said because I don’t think I understood that.  You were the last person I wanted to hurt, so you’re going to tell me why you wrote that letter and broke my heart.”

“No.” She tore her arm out of his grasp and backed away.  “I won’t.  I can’t.  I have to go.” And she fled, leaving Brian staring after her, feeling as though he’d just been through the wringer.

Had everything he’d ever thought been a lie? She hadn’t wanted him, or so he’d convinced himself.  But now…Now, she claimed that she’d done it to protect her own heart? Brian sank into a chair at the table and rubbed his hands wearily over his face.  He no longer knew what to believe, but he knew what he had to do.
 

Stay away from Isabella.