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Chapter Sixty-Three
Point of View: Nick

The next morning, I woke up at 7am to the sound of the door bell. I rolled out of bed, my hair a mess, still in my sweats from the night before, a ranch dressing stain on my chest, and one sock. I had no clue where the other one was, so I wandered down half barefoot to the front door and pulled it opened.

Officer Walters was standing on the other side. "Good morning, Mr. Carter," he said, stepping around me and into the house.

"Morning," I mumbled. If I'd been more awake, I knew I'd be panicking more than I was, but as it was, I was groggy, and barely comprehending that Officer Walters was here at all.

"I'm here because we found some suspicious tire treads on the road where Krystal was killed, two pair. One matched as belonging to her Chrystler, however, the other set, we're unsure about." He paused. "I'm here to take a look at your Camaro."

"My Camaro's in the shop," I mumbled, running my hand through my hair, "I can't drive anyways," I added.

"Legally, no," Officer Walters said, shrugging, "However we need to rule out all possibilities. In the shop, huh?" he added, "Convenient. What's it in the shop for?"

"My girlfriend's ex keyed the side," I said, "It's getting painted."

Officer Walters nodded, "Ah. And what shop is it in?"

"Rick's," I answered, "I always bring it to Rick for everything. I can give you their card."

Officer Walters shook his head, "That won't be necessary. I'll find it."

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Hey, can you be really honest with me a second?" I asked, looking up at him as he wrote stuff on his notepad. "What exactly do you guys think I did? I mean, seriously, she was in an accident. You've got the car to prove that. What could I have done to have caused it?"

"What we have so far suggests she was driven off the road by another vehicle," Officer Walters explained slowly, "The vehicle we're checking treads against the Camaro's tires for."

"Driven off the road?" my mouth felt dry.

"Yes," he said, "It suggests the other car drove along side her, slowly pushing her vehicle off the side of the street and into the ravine in which we found the vehicle two days later."

I rubbed my forehead, "So someone definitely did this."

"Yes," Officer Walters said, "Someone definitely did it. And you are currently the most likely suspect, as you were the last to have seen her, and have the most obvious motive."

I folded my hands in my lap, "Well, I appreciate your honesty," I said. "Thanks."

"I'll be back, Mr. Carter," said Officer Walters, and with that, he walked through the foyer and let himself out the front door.

Jesus, I thought, wondering what the truth was, and getting more scared by the moment.



Zoe showed up a little better than thirty minutes later. I'd taken a quick shower and changed into jeans, an old Bryan Adams tour shirt, and a red plaid button-up unbuttoned, with my red Converse, an outfit I felt looked like something I would've worn on stage so as not to disappoint the fan. I got into the Prius and started adjusting things like the mirrors and steering column. Behind Zoe, in the backseat, I could hear the girl whispering to herself.

"Okay, so why don't we do some highway driving today," Zoe suggested, "We'll go the coastal route."

I nodded and put the car into drive and we started rolling down the driveway to the street. The traffic was minimal and we were soon zooming - as much as a Prius can zoom, that is - down the coastal highway. It wasn't until that point that Heather spoke up. "Your house is really pretty, Nick Carter."

I wanted to laugh at the way she'd used my full name, but knew that would hurt her feelings, so I resisted.

"Thanks," I answered, smiling. "I like it."

"You must have wonderful views," she added.

"Very nice," I answered.

Zoe smirked at the awkwardness emanating from the backseat. "Heather's a big fan," she said to me suddenly, as though she hadn't told me the night before, "She said she's been a fan since she was a baby."

"My mom loves you guys," Heather said, nodding. "I practically grew up on you."

I laughed, "That makes me feel old," I said, but I was smiling, "That's great."

"Yeah, you guys are great," Heather said.

"You ever been to a show?" I asked, half glancing in the rearview mirror, but keeping my eyes on the road.

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head, "We were going to go to that thing you did - the charity thing a couple years ago, on the ship? But we couldn't afford the $300 tickets."

Zoe's eyebrows shot up, "Three hundred dollars?" she demanded of me, "For a freaking concert ticket? What do you people do? Lap dances?" Heather's laugh from the back was nervous - in a yeah, we wish kind of way.

I laughed, "That was for a charity benefit," I said, "It included a mini-cruise around the harbor, dinner, and a bunch of other stuff, not just the concert. We're not that full of ourselves. Our tickets face value range from $25 to $80, usually," I said, "Depending on the venue and the seat's location."

Zoe shook her head, "I was going to remind you that you aren't God - I don't think I'd pay $300 to sit in the audience even if He was there."

I laughed. "Eh well." I turned the conversation back to Heather, "You'll have to give me your address and I'll hook you up with some seats to the next show we do out here, sweetheart," I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zoe smile.

"Seriously?" Heather cried, her eyes wild with excitement, "Oh my God, that'd be so, so, so, so, so cool."

Zoe nudged me, "What about me?"

"Duh," I said, rolling my eyes. Zoe smirked.

The drive went on like that for the most part, we talked about BSB stuff. Heather was full of questions about tour experiences and what the next album was going to be like. I mentioned fleetingly that I was working with a new artist on some material that I thought was gonna be pretty awesome, and I saw Zoe look at me, eyebrow raised, as I said, "Her name is Kayla, she's gonna be freaking great. You'll have to check her out when her single drops. I'll make sure it's hooked up on my Twitter."

"I will," Heather promised.

When we got to the house after the drive was over, I kissed Heather's hand and told her, "It was great meeting you. Thanks for being a fan." And I fished the copy of the album liner for This is Us that I'd autographed with a silver marker and handed it to her. "Bring that to the show and I'll get the other guys to sign it, too. I would've had them sign that one, but I didn't know you were coming 'til last night."

"Thank you," she said, her eyes dreamy.

"Bye." I climbed out of the car. Zoe was already around the front of the Prius. I closed the door and smiled, "That was cool," I told her.

"Thank you," Zoe replied, "You just made that girl's day."

I shrugged, "She's why I do what I do - people like her. Without'em I wouldn't be here."

"Way too many artists forget that," Zoe remarked, "Its refreshing to see that you haven't." With that, she climbed into the Prius and drove off. I could tell by the animated hand gestures in the backseat that Heather was freaking out all excited about the hours she'd just spent driving the coast. I smiled, it felt good to make the fans happy.

I wandered inside to wait for Kayla and work on writing the lyrics to her song. But the silence inside the house was eating at me, and Officer Walters words echoed in my head - somebody had killed Krystal. The only question was if it was me.

Damn, of all the nights to be unable to retrieve from my memory ... why does it have to be that one?