Chapter Sixteen

My apologies for the short chapter, but there was nothing else to add. Sorry.

Alex settled herself on the couch, a thick envelope in her lap. She hadn't read anything on the Croft book that she was supposed to write, besides the first slip of paper that was in there, a handwritten note from her editor to her. All it had was a listing of what was in there and a few extra notes, the man being as organized as she remembered, unlike her.

Sighing, she lifted the flap and poured out pieces of paper into her lap, getting ready to put it into separate piles so that it was easier for her to work on it. The last thing she needed was to write about why he was put in jail only to find another note about a few months before that. Her eyes read the first few sentences on each piece quickly as she started to separate all of it, her mind racing back to earlier that day.

"Well, just let me know," Chris said as he pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket. He didn't put the on, but rather held onto the as he looked up after fumbling with the zipper on his jacket. "You sure you're going to be okay by yourself?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'll be fine, Chris. It's not like it's the end of the world or anything. I'm probably just going to lay around and read anyway. I don't think that I'm going to be doing any more crying." Her face flamed slightly as she said that, complete with a nervous chuckle. "Don't worry about me."

"It's what I do best," he joked with a shrug. "Alex, it's not a big deal. You needed to get it out, and like I've already told you about ten times, I didn't mind."

Her head came back up as a smile curved on her face. "What, is that how you try to get a girl or something? Get close to them by letting them cry all over you?"

Snapping his fingers, a dismayed look covered his face. "Damn, you figured out my master plan. I'm going to have to try something new next time. You'll do for a test subject, I'm sure," he added before turning towards the door. He froze and turned back to look at her. "You put your hair up."

Widening her eyes, she nodded. "Very observant, considering that it's been up for the past two hours or so," she told him, laughing lightly.

"It looks good like that," he went on, as if he was ignoring what she had just said. "I've noticed that you've always had it hanging in your face, like you're trying to hide. It looks a hell of a lot better when it's up." Nodding, he grinned and leaned forward to push a loose piece of hair away from her face. "I like it."

"And that's all that matters to me. Whether you like it or not," she said dryly, as she crossed her arms. "Let me guess. This is your new master plan. Compliment the poor woman to death before she feels so bad that she can't say no when you ask her out."

Wincing, he shook his head. "Ouch. That was a little below the belt," he said. "At least you've got some of that spunk back. I'm not sure which side of you I like better."

Alex smiled and leaned back against the wall. "I know which side of you I like better. The one that I verbally abuse. Or maybe that's just the side of me that I like the best."

"Like I said, the spunk is back, and I'm going to leave before my body is found and you're accused of verbal manslaughter."

A surprised look went over her face. "Manslaughter? I don't think so, Christopher. Don't you know that, in order for it to be manslaughter, there has to be a man involved? And when it's concerning you, well-"

"I'm going to break you off right there, thank you," he said sarcastically, reaching over to tug on her ponytail and making her step away from the wall to get away from his hand. He turned away again and opened the door, stepping outside with a small shiver when the cold wind that was blowing hit his face. "Wow, I think I'm going to run all the way back to our place." He turned to face her again as she walked up to the door, holding the knob from the inside. "If you start up again, call me. I'd rather that you weren't alone," he added.

She smiled slightly at his words. "Thanks for the concern, Chris, but I'm going to be fine. You really don't have to worry."

Nodding before he leaned forward, he brushed away the same piece of hair and placed a light kiss on the side of her face. "Tell me tomorrow if that works better than the whole crying on the shoulder bit," he whispered, before stepping back with a wink and turning to start down the stairs, whistling to himself.

 She smiled to herself, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Even though she wouldn't tell him, and she knew that he wouldn't bring it up the next day...or she was hoping...it definitely did work better than her sobbing all over him. It may have caught her by surprise, but it was a FAR better tactic to use in her opinion.

Shaking her head, she snapped out of her thoughts, even though a blush and a smile remained on her face as she picked up the next piece of paper, reading the first line of scribbled notes. All she could really be thankful for was that whoever had written all of it out, and most of it was by hand, it was readable, unlike her writing. Her eyes scanned over the first two lines, before she suddenly stopped and backed up.

This couldn't be right, she thought. There was just no way. It didn't seem possible, yet there is was, right in front of her eyes. In black felt tip pen, no less. The answer to a lot of her questions, even though it seemed to create more questions in her mind.

Brooklyn. The name was in those first two lines twice. Not too many people could have that name, she thought to herself, as she started to read again, this time actually paying attention to what was on the page. According to what the man had written, it was the beginning of all the problems he had. And it was all because of one person. She frowned as she read faster, trying to figure out who the person was, and what the name of the person was.

Suddenly, her mouth dropped open and she reached blindly for the phone, dialing the numbers easily as she held the phone up to her ear. "Kevin, it's me. What can you tell me about Brooklyn Turner and JC Chasez," she said, as soon as the phone was picked up. She settled back to hear whatever information she was about to get.

"Hey, Brooke?" Chris asked, sticking his head in the door to her bedroom. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

She stretched and put down the book she was reading with a frown. "No. Because it won't just be a second. You should have asked if you could talk to me for about an hour, since that's probably how long it would take. But you're welcome to come in and ask what you need to ask," she said with a sigh, waving him in. "I thought that if I went on vacation, I would have a little time to myself. I must have been delusional."

He shrugged and sat down on the bed. "You usually are, but we're not talking about your usual mental problems. I just have an innocent question."

Her eyes rolled as she groaned and fell back on the bed. "Dear Lord in Heaven, this is going to be a TWO hour discussion. Is this all because I kicked Keith Mancuso on the playground in grade one? It wasn't my fault that he pissed me off, and you can't keep doing this to me, just because I almost broke his leg," she complained to the ceiling.

"One kick did that?" Chris asked curiously, shaking his head.

Brooklyn took awhile to answer, and when she finally did, she mumbled out the words. "It was more like a half hour work out on his ankle, but he still deserved it. He had cooties." Raising her head, she looked at him. "But we're not supposed to be talking about my mental problems, remember? This is supposed to be about you. All about you. Nothing but you. God, are you selfish."

"How much sugar have you had today?"

"Don't ask."

Whistling under his breath, he nodded fearfully. "I see. What, your favorite character on Days got killed off today or something?" he asked, continuing before she could say anything. "I just wanted to know if I could take one of the cars into town this weekend. That's all I wanted to know, but instead, I had to listen to your childhood attempts of crippling a kid. Sometimes, I wonder about you."

"Hey, I still wonder how I've made it this far into this vacation without killing anyone yet. Not for lack of trying, of course, because it did come pretty close a few times, but Justin swears that he's going to recover. It'll take a lot of therapy, though." Shaking her head, she sighed. "Chris, I'm not your mom and I sure as hell am not going to start handing out curfews and allowances, unless your last name is Timberlake or Chasez. Besides, you signed for them, I didn't. Why are you going into town?"

"I'm pretty sure that Jace's allowance isn't monetary, either. As for why I want to go into town...I plead the fifth," he said, standing up.

Reacting quickly, she reached over and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him hard enough to make him sit down on the bed again, almost falling backwards. "Whoa, hold on a second. Maybe I am going to act like your mama for a second. I don't like this whole idea of self-incrimination, so what's up? Wait, let me rephrase that. Are you going to piss me off?"

"Yup," he answered quickly. "I'm doing this for my own safety, and you've made enough threats about knives and body parts that I know one of these days, you're going to go through with it. I prefer not to be the guinea pig. I like everything where it is, and in its original working order."

She grinned brightly, cocking her head to the side. "Very cute, but not working. Come on, JC and I made up, and no one's pissed me off in a little while. I'd like to have something new in my life to bitch about. It's either that, or you're going to be short one member of NSYNC, because you know who I like to take my frustrations out on."

Shaking his head, he looked over at her. "What is it with you and your latest obsession with Justin? You've been picking on him for a while now."

"He's my new play toy. Oh, don't worry. JC doesn't mind. In fact, he's all for it, because it saves him a few bruises, and he knows how to share. The kid takes it pretty good, too. He's not afraid to dish it right back at me." Leaning forward, she raised her eyebrows. "Come on, Chris. You know you want to tell me. It's either that or you're washing dishes tonight."

His eyes widened playfully. "Not that. Anything but that. I'll tell you, but only because of your threat," he said with a grin. "It's nothing big. I thought that I'd go and look around. Find something new to read, maybe check out a music store or two. That's all."

Brooklyn leaned back with a suspicious look on her face. "Out of curiosity, does this trip involve L'il Miss Bitchy down the road?"

"Like you're L'il Miss Sunshine most of the time." He shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't asked her if she wants to come along, but it's not like I'm planning it around her answer. I think I've read every book in here, and listened to every CD, excluding all the country music, of course. Besides, you and I could benefit from a crib board."

"I don't like the sound of this, Christopher. In case you haven't noticed, I don't really care for her."

"And in case you haven't noticed, I really don't care." Sighing, he waited until she looked at him again before speaking. "Brooke, you're my best friend. There's a lot that I would do for you, but I'm not going to dislike someone just because you do. This really has nothing to do with you, and you keep trying to get yourself involved. I appreciate it, but really, it's my life."

She frowned again, looking down as she picked a thread off of her pants. "I know. Every single person in this house has been telling me lately, but I just can't help it. You know me, I have to be involved in everything," she explained with a shrug, before sighing deeply. "I can't help the fact that I don't like her. Barely stand her, really, but whatever. It's just that I don't have a good feeling about this. Not because I don't like her, but I KNOW that this isn't going to turn out good."

With a smile, he stood up. "And if it doesn't, you know I'm going to come running to you for reassurance, advice, and a shoulder to cry on, but I don't need any of that right now. You're not a soothsayer, so I'm not worried. Thank you, though." Stopping, he suddenly grinned and stared at her for a moment. "Wait, did you say that you and JC are back on good terms?"

"As good as can be," she said with a shrug. "It happened while you were talking with the enemy down the road. Cheap shot, I know, but I couldn't resist," she added, raising her hand to stop him.

He nodded, letting the last comment slide. "So, does this mean that you're going to tell me what started the next world war that night, because I swore that the missile launchers were about to come out."

"In ten years," she started, "if you and I are still on speaking terms, I'll tell you. But if we aren't talking then, don't expect me to call you up and just bust out with it, because it won't happen."

"Boy, you've got a positive outlook for the future. I don't know how Jace deals with you."

A bright smile landed on her face as she reached for her book again. "One of life's little mysteries. But hey, if I'm pessimistic all the time, I won't be disappointed when something doesn't work out. Besides, optimism is so tiring."

"Sure," he said sarcastically. "Enjoy your book and start a shopping list, all right? You still have three days to figure out what you want." Chris paused again as he was walking out the door. "Wait, maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"Too late," she shouted after him, laughing.

A half hour later, she hung up the phone and sat back, her mind racing faster than the cars involved in the Indy 500. There was a lot more to the story than she had previously thought or heard about. And the strangest thing was that she had learned that Chris was involved in the end of it. Or the end of the accusations. She was more than thankful that Kevin's wife had taken an interest in the case, and went as far as taping a few news stories and interviews. It was the hottest thing to hit the airwaves back then, and Alex had paid very little attention. Now, she wished that she had been more interested in what had happened.

She knew that she wasn't getting the whole story, or every little bit of truth. In fact, she believed that what she had in her lap was nothing but a bunch of lies, but it was what she was supposed to write, and it was the only side of the story that she knew. That Tim Croft had been wrongfully accused of two murders in California. That he had been accused of assaulting Brooklyn, when he claimed that it was something that she and JC had put together to get him out of the picture so that they could continue with their, as he put it in his notes, love affair that they weren't too good at keeping quiet or away from his eyes. That Brooklyn, JC, and Chris...the Chris that had been in her house just a few hours ago, had even gone to great lengths to accuse him of hiring someone to stalk her and accusing Tim yet again of conspiracy to murder.

Her eyes closed as she let the papers fall from her lap. It was unbelievable, some of the things that Kevin had told her. He was sending her another envelope full of notes and even a few pictures that he had managed to find, of all of the parties involved with the strange and twisted story. This sounded more like something that she would write for a Cort Demers book, not something that could actually happen. And it was so big, and so many bits of information had never made it to the media. The second part of the story that occurred while Tim Croft was in jail, the whole stalking and conspiracy bit, was never heard before. No one spoke about it, not even the accused.

Alex had a feeling when she had first met the group that was staying just down the road from her, that they were hiding something. When Chris had come out with the fact that they were all musical entertainers, she thought that was it. She could never had guessed that they were keeping something like that quiet. It was hard to imagine what the woman had gone through in that year and a half, close to two years.

Not all of it was the truth. She was already starting to second guess a lot of the stuff that she had already read or heard. For instance, she was pretty sure that JC and Brooklyn weren't involved back when she was engaged to Croft, but she couldn't be sure. There was a possibility, and because she had never heard Brooklyn's side of the story, she could only go on what was in front of her. That there was an elaborate plan to hurt an innocent person.

But that meant that Chris was involved in the whole deal. That he had been one of the players in the game, and he had helped to accuse and hurt an innocent man. That was hard to believe, but she had to admit that she didn't know a lot about him. Just the pieces of history and information that he let her know.

Could he really be capable of something like that, she asked herself. Tim Croft had even provided a scenario that, while ridiculous, could work. That Chris had been so infatuated with Brooklyn, he did what she asked. She had sworn, the first time that she had seen them, that they were involved with each other. They had a closeness that was hard to explain, even to the two of them. Best friends, they had both told her. Nothing but best friends. But what if there was more than they told everyone. What if there was more to their story than they were letting on.

Did JC know anything about it? It could have been something that they were hiding for him, and still were, if that was the case. If they were involved with each other. A secret affair, hidden behind a secret affair. It was confusing and twisted, but it could work. It would also be one of the most elaborate plans in history, then.

Trying to figure out and piece together the story was almost like looking at the Colwell family tree. So many branches coming off of other branches, until you couldn't remember who was who, and where they belonged. And now she was coming upon broken branches, and intertwining branches, and it was nothing but a big mess.

She couldn't figure out what her part was in the story. Sure, she was writing the book about what happened, or one person's account of what happened, but if the plan could have been so elaborate, surely she would be part of it. Brooklyn had made a comment about how she knew who she was. Maybe she and Chris were conspiring against her, trying to get more information. It had already been announced that Alex M. Colwell was writing the biography and it was highly focused upon the events in Tennessee. Could they have found out?

It was possible, she thought. Very possible. Lately, the cover-up of who she was, wasn't exactly the most important thing on her mind. In fact, it was very far from what she was thinking about. It could have been possible that she may have slipped one or two times, and they might have figured it out from that, but she couldn't think of anything that would have let the secret out.

Nonetheless, Brooklyn knew. She knew, and Alex wouldn't have been surprised if she found out that she was using the fact that she was the writer of the tell-all book against her. It was just time for the author to beat the country singer at her own game, and if it came down to involving Chris, so be it.

There would be no mercy.

Chapter Seventeen pepsicolagurl@shaw.ca