Chapter Eleven: Follow The Trail



He leaned in and shut the water off, then hauled her up into his arms, and wrapped a towel around her small frame. He carried her hurriedly into the bedroom, and placed her delicately onto the bed, like a china doll she lay there, pale and still. She had the crimson water dripping from her body, and her own blood was coming from a small wound in the back of her head.

“Faith?” Brian whispered, wrapping his arms protectively around her, coaxing her to open her eyes
“Baby, please, wake up” he cried, rocking her gently
Her eyes jolted open, as her entire body shivered, covered only with the towel Brian had grabbed. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Brian smiled mercifully, as she pushed her wet hair off her face.

She sat up slowly, as Brian pulled a blanket around her shoulders.
“I’ll be back in a minute” he whispered, kissing her forehead briefly before disappearing out the door again.

He marched into the bathroom and yanked the showerhead off the hose. He starred at it agitatedly, if this was someone’s idea of a joke, he wasn’t laughing. Holding the showerhead in his hands, it was easy to see what happened. The head had housed a small sack of red food coloring, when the pressure of the water got too much, the bag broke, allowing the coloring to leak into the water, turning it the blood-like color. He threw it, annoyed, onto the shower bottom.

Faith stood at the doorway, wrapped in a dressing gown, her mattered wet hair spilling over the silk gown.
“Why is this happening?” she whispered as Brian walked over, enveloping her with his strong arms
“I don’t know baby, I don’t know” Brian sighed, annoyed he didn’t know.
“Someone really doesn’t like me, do they?” Faith wept, as he hands shook in fear. This was too much, too quickly, someone was trying to scare the living daylights out of her, and from her standpoint, they were doing a very good job at it.
“Come on, it’ll be okay” Brian replied as he walked her back into the bedroom
“I want to believe that” faith whispered
“Then believe it”
“Do you? Do you believe that?”
“Faith, we’ve been through things like this before”
“No Brian, we haven’t. I’ve had websites with “I hate The bitch” scrawled across it, I’ve had the occasional email and letter, saying that you deserve better, and I can deal with all that Brian because its all JUST WORDS, this isn’t, whoever it is, they killed Marty, they were in our house, and I sincerely think they are trying to kill me” Faith announced, her eyes truly bestowing the fear she felt.

Brian knew she was right, he was as scared as she was, there was something chilling real about whoever was doing this, it wasn’t a mindless prank, it was organized and perfectly executed.

“Whoever this person is, they know us. They know what we do, when we do it” Brian said thoughtfully as he paced around the room
“Someone close to us?” Faith echoed in disbelief
“I don’t want to believe it either Faith, but I don’t believe this is a stranger”
“So what do we do?”
“Narrow down the field”
“By?”
“Cutting off any links in the chain we don’t need. Change hairdressers, change doctors, change anything that we can, and cutting anything out we don’t need”
“Like a wedding coordinator?”
Brian nodded slowly.
“We need to Faith, we need to sever all ties”
Faith understood, and she agreed. Anyone that didn’t need to be in their life, needed to be pushed out, she just prayed it wasn’t too late.

Faith reached over for the phone, as Brian caught her hand.
“I’ll do it” he smiled softly “You lay down, get some rest okay?” he whispered as she smiled thankfully at him
“Sure?”
“Uh huh, try and get some sleep” Brian remarked as faith lay back on the bed. He picked up the cordless from beside the bed and picked up the card Catherine had given to Faith before. He dialed the number on the card and waited for an answer.

~ AT THE SAME TIME ~

Catherine starred down at the caller display on the phone. She smiled wickedly to herself, she was so certain that this would be Faith asking for a shoulder to cry on, she’d weaved her way into their lives, and slowly but surely she was carrying out a perfectly worked out plan.
“Chelsea speaking” she answered sweetly
“Uh, yeah, it’s Brian Littrell here” Brian responded as he cradled the phone by his ear and wandered out of the room
“Oh, hey there Brian, what can I do for you?” Catherine inquired. Maybe it was Brian begging for a shoulder to cry on, or perhaps saying how much he trusted her, or maybe the stupid police had figured out the clue she’d left blatantly sprawled across the table.
“I just wanted to thank you for the work you’ve done”
“Oh that’s no problem”
“But” Brian began “I'm afraid we’re going to do things ourselves from now on”
Catherine’s jaw dropped, this was not something she’d counted on, this could ruin everything, she needed contact with them, it was a must.
“Oh, uh, why?” she stuttered, things weren’t going according to plan, and she hated that when it happened
“We just think its for the best. We’ll send you a check in the mail for your help”
“No you cant”
“Huh?”
“I mean, I uh, did the work as a friend, I want to help Faith”
“I appreciate that Chelsea, and I really do thank you for what you’ve done so far”
“Why? Why do you have to drop me?”
“that’s personal Chelsea, its nothing against you”
“Can I talk to Faith?”
Maybe she’s stupid enough to not let this happen.
“She’s sleeping at the moment, I’ll tell her you said hi, I’ve got to go now, thanks, bye” Brian said quickly as he hung up the phone.

“SHIT!” Catherine screamed throwing the cell phone across the room

Her game, it would seem had come to an abrupt end. She didn’t have access to the house, she didn’t know everything she needed to, but she wasn’t beaten yet, not yet, she still had one more trick up her sleeve.

~ AT THE SAME TIME ~

“Marie Ryan?” a plains clothed detective questioned as Marie answered the door
“Yes” Marie replied suspicious as two strangers stood on her doorstep
“I'm detective Giles” he smiled flashing his badge “this is detective Martin. We’re investigating a break in at the Littrell house”
“Oh” Marie remarked, gesturing for them to come in “Faith hasn’t rung me, is everything okay?” she added, rubbing her gloved hands together as she walked into the lounge, the two detectives following her
“She’s a bit shaken up, that’s all” Giles responded
“Please, have a seat, I wont be a minute” she smiled as she sat them in the lounge and walked into a room just off to the side.
She pulled off the gloves and threw them into a trashcan beside the door. She lived on her own, in an apartment building in urban Orlando. It wasn’t much, 2 bedrooms, one that was converted into art studio type of thing, where she did everything from seeing the occasional customer, to taking her hand at painting.

“So how can I help you?” she inquired sitting down on the chair opposite them.
“You have something on you’re hand” Giles noticed, it was his job to spot things which seemed out of the ordinary
“Yeah, I know, it’s hair dye” she shrugged
“May I ask how it got there?”
“Oh, I was dying some ladies hair today, this morning actually. She splattered it all over me, funny enough”
“Really, you’re a hairdresser?”
“Yeah”
“And you usually do customers at home?”
“Only the regular ones, the ones I can trust, that sort of thing”
“And this one, was a regular”
“Actually no, she wasn’t. She was frantic, something about her sisters wedding, she wanted her red hair touched up, I don’t usually do it, but she paid big, so I did it”
“You’re boyfriend is Nick Carter?”
“Uh huh”
“He’s pretty wealthy”
“What’s your point? I’m a year 2001 women detective, I make my own money. What’s all this about anyway, I highly doubt it’s relevant”
“Everything is relevant, do you mind if I take a skin sample?”
“Why?”
“Just for research purposes”
“Fine whatever” Marie shrugged
“Do you keep records of who you see?”
“Always”
“Do you have the name of this customer?”
“Hold on” Marie sighed as she strolled over to the brown appointment book that sat on the table. She flicked through it.
“Mrs. Carmen Bennett”
“Do you have a number?”
“I don’t generally give that information out” Marie announced, annoyed with their questions
“Please, a phone number. We can easily confiscate that book”
“567-9980” she announced
The detective scribbled the number across his pad and removed a clear film.
“The sample?”
She stuck out her hand, as he placed the sticky side of the clear film onto her hand, over a spot of the dye. He lifted it back up, and placed it into a plastic snap lock bag.
“Thanks for you time, we’ll be in contact if there is anything else” he smiled



Chapter 12
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