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Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Three
Point of View: Narrator


"You get to go home, it's a good thing," Kayla was saying as the nurse wheeled Zoe across the lobby toward Kayla's red Aveo, which sat waiting by the curb.

Zoe was scowling. She'd been scowling since she'd discovered Nick was gone that morning. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I know," she said in a cranky tone.

The nurse looked at Kayla apologetically.

Kayla opened the back door of the Aveo and put Zoe's crutches in the back, as well as her bag of personal stuffs. She turned and offered Zoe her hand, but Zoe pushed it away and hobbled herself up and into Kayla's car without help, wincing as she put pressure on her right leg especially, but desperately wanting to be independent.

Kayla looked helplessly at the nurse, who again looked apologetic, but ran like a bat out of hell back into the hospital.

"It's cold in this damn car," Zoe complained as Kayla got into the driver's side.

"I'll turn the heat on," Kayla said, starting it up and fiddling with the knobs and dials on the dashboard.

Zoe stared at her hand. "Don't forget to adjust your mirrors and your buckle," she said in her driver's ed voice.

Kayla looked up at her. "Don't start with the instructor stuff, Zoe, I'm licensed, remember?"

Zoe scowled.

Kayla sighed and adjusted the mirrors - which hadn't moved since she'd driven last so they were already adjusted but she moved them just to move them back so Zoe could see she was doing it - and pulled her buckle on. "Happy?"

Zoe grunted.

"Okay, let's go home then," Kayla said, shifting the car into drive.

"You didn't do an outside check," Zoe commented.

"Zoe," Kayla said in a warning tone.

Zoe hmmphed and looked out the window.

Kayla took a deep breath.



Howie and Brian were sitting at a restaurant, sandwiches and drinks in front of them, discussing Nick's trial. Howie was taking notes on a steno notepad and Brian was eating his sour dill pickle, making faces as the sour struck him. "So we've got two weeks," Howie said, underlining the date of the trial on the top of his pad.

"Mmhm," Brian hummed around his scrunched up face.

Howie looked up. "Why are you eating it if you don't like it?" he asked.

"It's on the plate," Brian replied. "And isn't like a law if you eat a Rueben you have to eat a dill pickle?" Howie grabbed the half-eaten pickle out of Brian's hand and ate it. "Hey!" Brian cried, staring at his pickle-juice covered fingers where the pickle had been. Howie grinned.

"Okay, business. Focus," Howie demanded.

Brian leaned closer to the table. "I don't really know much else than all this," he admitted, "I mean I've told you everything. As far as I know that's all the state has for evidence, and Nick's got Desi's tape."

Howie nodded. "Okay, but what about witnesses? Was there anyone who witnessed the accident?"

"Nick and Krystal were the only ones that I know of, and considering Krystal died that leaves Nick."

"Okay," Howie mused.

"Zoe and Kayla will both probably be spoken to because they saw him earlier that night. They were there when he found the house trashed."

Howie nodded. "And nobody else spoke to him or anything in between?"

"Not that I know of," Brian replied. He picked up a quarter of his sandwich and shoved it in his mouth in one giant bite.

Howie sat back and picked up his glass of scotch and swirled it before taking a sip.

"Okay enough trial stuff," Brian said, "How's the community coming?"

Howie smiled, "Pretty well. I found an excellent property I'm going to be buying out and the first place has a gorgeous oceanside view, similar to Nick's old property. I figured he'd feel right at home there."

Brian smiled.

"I've wanted to do a community on this coast anyway," Howie said, "I figured one of my best friends needing a new place would be the perfect excuse to start it." He sipped his scotch again and pulled a sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket. "Here's the sketch of the house." He dropped the paper down in front of Brian.

Brian looked at it. It was gorgeous; an L-shaped mansion with an entire corner of huge, open bay windows, and a turret in the bend. "It would be stone siding," he explained, "With black shutters."

"Nice," Brian said, nodding. "This looks amazing."

"I've got a few different designs for the community. There would only be two or three with this design, and this one with the windows on the wall here," he ran his finger along the shorter inside wall of the L, "That would be exclusive to Nick's."

"He'll love it, D."

Howie smiled. "I figured I haven't really been here enough for him. I don't think it'll be up within the two weeks, but I'm sure he can bunk in with you until it's built?"

"Of course," Brian replied, "If he can handle Baylee."

Howie laughed. Howie had declined staying with Brian after going to his house and being attacked brutally by hyperactive, out-of-control Baylee. Even Leighanne had ben ready to ship the kid off to boarding school that day. "I'm sure I'll be fine around Baylee once I've seen James act like that. Right now the most hyperactive moment I've had with James was when he pooed and we didn't notice it right away and he started screaming hysterically."

Brian snorted. "I remember those days."

"Bath in the sink?"

"Yeah, it works like a charm. Baylee used to splash water everywhere."

"Ay Dios," Howie nodded, "James, too. Although I can't complain. Leigh positively glows when she holds him, she looks fantastic all the time."

Brian smiled, "Leighanne always did too. Just wait, she'll look tired and run down once he starts running around..." Brian laughed. "Not that Leighanne doesn't look fantastic tired and run down, too..." Brian sipped his lemonade.

Howie laughed.

"I wouldn't mind having another," Brian admitted, winking.

"Good times," Howie laughed.

Brian leaned back in his chair. "Indeed."



Leslie threw AJ's cell phone onto his lap. "Okay, I called Mike and he's cool with me staying 'til after Nick's trial."

AJ nodded. "Cool."

On TV, there was a cheap production of a Shakespeare-style play on the local access channel. Leslie flopped down next to him. "I didn't think anyone actually watched this crap," she commented.

AJ glanced at her, "Why?"

"Because it's crap?" Leslie asked, laughing.

"It's not crap," AJ said defensively, "It's art. It's written in the spirit of Shakespearean literature."

Leslie blinked up at him, "Dude, sorry. What're you like Shakespeare's modern day number one fan?"

AJ laughed, "I just think you should respect the fine arts," he replied. "And there's nothing wrong with liking Shakespeare. He wrote some pretty hot and heavy shit for his time." He turned up the volume a little louder.

"I just never understand all the crap he's talking about," she explained.

AJ pointed at the TV, "Okay, well right now, that guy there in the corner with the fluffy shirt ruffle thing? He loves that chick with the red hair. Thing is, she's engaged to that swashbuckling guy over there with the sword who just killed at other dude. That other dude was the king."

"Why'd he kill the king?"

"Because he was a bastard."

"Got it."

"So now Shirt Ruffle and Swashbuckler are gonna fight over Ginger." AJ stared at the screen as the two men circled each other, speaking in poetic rhymes.

Leslie leaned into AJ's side. "Who are we rooting for?" she asked.

AJ shrugged. "Swashbuckler had her first."

Leslie looked up at AJ.

"He should get her."

Leslie sighed. "You need to go to a strip club or something, seriously."

AJ looked at Leslie, "What?"

"You, you're pathetic. I haven't met Kayla, but I'm sure she's not worth you acting like this," Leslie said.

AJ raised his eyebrow, "I'm talking about the damn play," he said, gesturing at the screen.

"Okay Ruffle Shirt," she said, getting up and walking out of the room.

AJ looked up at the screen just in time to see Swashbuckler plunge his sword into Ruffle Shirt's chest and the ruffle turned red with blood. He quickly turned the TV off. "God dammit," he muttered.