Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.

‘Lance, if you are going to put up this sort of resistance, I can do very little to help you. Though hypnosis is beginning to bulk large among my options.’ Dr Nguyen was crisp.

‘No! No. I – no.’

‘Lance, you quite literally fainted yesterday when I asked about JC. You have an ulcer and, to put it in lay terms, a “heart problem.” Woefully imprecise, that, but universally understood. If you do not cooperate with our attempts here to help you heal, I cannot hold out much hope for a full recovery.’ She was empathetic but acerb.

Lance was breathing shallowly, sweat beading on his upper lip. ‘Doctor, I cannot, cannot, do this.’

‘But you can do this, to yourself, to the people you love – and to the people who love you?’

‘He is? Out of town. Hmmm. When will he be back?’

‘I’m not at liberty to say.’

‘It’s really urgent. It’s about the lawsuit with TransCon. Can you at least tell me where Mr Chasez is?’

‘Did what?’

‘CK?’ Joe and Just slid on the wood floor – they’d been racing around in their stockinged feet, stir crazy chez Timberlake – as they rounded the corner to see Chris yelping into the phone.

‘Those sons of bitches – no, you did exactly right – yeppers, stick with that. Man, we owe ya.’

He hung up, simmering.

‘Some fuckin’ paid slimeball,’ he squawked, in response to their bafflement, ‘tryin’ to worm out where C is. “It’s about the TransCon suit,” he says. Thank God Rip had sense enough to keep quiet – guy never lied, but he was doing all he could to convey he worked for one of our lawyers when all along he’s on Pearlman’s payroll – that no-good son of a mongrel bitch, that fucking asshole, God damned –’

‘Chris!’

‘What, Joe? I was just now warming up.’

‘Shaddup a minute and think. We do hafta start comin’ up with a cover as to why C and Lance are missing, together.’

‘Well the idea is not to let anyone know that they’re together in the first place, idiot!’

‘Basta. Both out of sight at the same time? Likely to be spotted in East Bumfuck, Mississippi, together, actually, too? We need a story and you know it.’

Justin knit his brow. ‘Hey. Everybody knows Lansten’s got a heart problem, right?’

‘Yeah, it’s only been in every paper, every tabloid, on every station, on MTV –’

‘Can da shit, Chris, just this once, a’ight? ’At’s da explanation right there.’

‘What, JC’s secretly got a medical degree?’

Justin rolled his eyes. The strain was getting to Chris most: the band had been his baby, after all. Remembering that was all that kept Justin from throttling his best bud right about now. He sighed, impatiently. ‘If anyone pushes it to where we have to answer, C’s the designated caretaker.’

‘Like that won’t make people wonder–’

‘Do you know CPR? Are you a lifeguard? You gots any Red Cross certifications? Didn’t think so. But C does, man. Has since Mouse Club.’

Chris just stared at him, openmouthed. ‘My God. There is something under the ’fro after all.’

Justin glared. ‘For dat, asshole, you gets dish duty.’

The rental car stopped at the station.

‘Fill ’er up?’

The driver was taken aback. This place was a fucking timewarp. A full service gas station?

‘Uh, nah, it’s fine, I just need directions.’

‘Where to, neighbor?’

‘Is there a cemetery in this town?’

‘This is Jim Bass.’

‘Jim? Deke here.’ Even the hometown lawmen were awfully proud of Lance’s success, and kept a special eye on things when the Basses where out of town.

‘Oh my God. What’s happened?’ Jim had visions of a burnt-down house, a burglary, a water heater exploding....

‘Got a call f’om Miz Hattie down to the florist’s, and Susan and Steve Knowles seen a rental see-dan driving around their neighborhood at a slow crawl. Looks like somebody’s awful interested in Lance having bought flowers ever’ Christmas and Easter and May 4^th and August 8^th. You know. For Jessie and all.’

‘Lance. Can you at least tell me this. Why are you so afraid of love?’

He looked, stricken, at Dr Nguyen.

‘Thank you for calling FTD Customer Service. Your call is important to us. Someone will be with you shortly....’

‘God damn it, a girl he grew up with, a girl who was more than like a sister to him, his fuckin’ soulmate, that he loved with all his heart, died tragically! You call that a “skeleton”!?!’

‘Died how?’ snapped the most senior Florida lawyer. ‘Damn it right back at you, Mister Chasez, but we have to know things! You can’t treat your own counsel like mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed shit – we can’t defend you if you do that, and if that’s your attitude, I don’t see why we’d want to try. You listen to me, young man–’

JC took a deep breath, about to let fly, but the lawyer gave him no chance.

‘– We have a right to know. What happened? Did he kill her? Had he date-raped her or anything of that sort such that she killed herself? If there’s nothing here but a teenaged tragedy, why would TransCon’s counsel have investigators combing Lance’s online florist’s orders and visiting gravesites in the middle of Bugfuck, Mississippi?’

‘Why you arrogant three-piece-suited son of a bitch....’

‘Lance. I know about Jessie. I know that Jessie died. I think I know by what means. She killed herself, didn’t she.’

After a long minute of staring, transfixed, like a jacked, spot-lighted deer in a poacher’s beam, Lance broke. When he spoke, it was almost inaudible. ‘I killed her.’