Dreams
Of Red
Chapter One – murder?
Heather felt
two arms wrap around her waist, she turned her head slightly and smiled when she
saw A.J. McLean out of the corner of her eye. She went back to watching the
bacon being fried in the pan on the stove. A.J. kissed her neck affectionately
before making his way to the fridge to get some orange juice. The phone rang,
they both looked over at it, then at each other; worried that it was the office
Heather didn’t want to get it. A.J. finally gave in and answered the phone
with a smile. His face dropped when he heard the news. He looked over at
Heather. She got worried when she saw the look on his face. His eyes turned to
flames inside when he heard the person on the line talk.
“Now listen, I know she hasn’t been there for days…she’s been
here.” A.J. argued with the person but soon a smile returned to his lips as he
thought of the past few days they had spent together. After a few words he hung
up the phone and returned to Heather. A solemn look on his face, he told her
what happened. “John’s dead.” He whispered. Heather gasped and clasped a
hand to her chest. She looked over at A.J., trying to see whether this was
another one of his practical jokes. She could see tears forming in his eyes and
knew it was the truth. “They found him, in his apartment… laying in the
bathtub… soaked in blood.” He looked up at her, not sure whether he should
tell her this or not. He knew she needed to know, “They found your coat in the
bedroom. They think you were there last night-or whenever it was…I told them
you were here, they didn’t believe me.”
“Who are ‘they’?” She asked quietly as she sat down on a stool
nearby feeling as if her legs would fail her at any minute.
“Police investigators. An uh…Officer Sherman, and Williams I think he
said. They were brought to look around, see if they are any clues on what
happened. Officer Williams said it could have been…suicide- but he said it was
most likely murder. They dusted for fingerprints all around him and couldn’t
find anything but your leather jacket was there. You had it on yesterday right?
Why would it be there?” A.J. asked her, pleading with his eyes for her to tell
him the truth but praying for her to say she had no idea; that she hadn’t been
there for weeks.
“I…I-I…I don’t know.” She whispered and swallowed the lump
rising in her throat. She blinked heavily and looked down at her hands. “I
have no idea.” She said barely above a whisper.
“I need you to tell me the truth…please…” There was a long
silence before he cleared his voice and talked in a normal tone again, “They
think you might have had something to do with it Heather.”
“I don’t know where they could get that idea. So my coats there, so
what? I always leave something at our friends when we go places.” She looked
up at him, her short blonde hair falling into her eyes, making her look more
innocent than a two-year-old child holding a small puppy. A.J. felt bad for not
believing her. He smiled warmly at her, as to say that he believed her.
They went on with their routine that day; A.J. went to the studio for a
few hours to work on some music with the guys. Heather went to the office where
she worked as a newspaper reporter. She did small articles around Kissimmee, Fl.
About fifteen minutes from where she lived. A.J. lived right on the beach in
Ruskin, it was a beautiful spot and Heather spent most nights there with him,
when he was home.
The Backstreet Boys had just gotten off the Black and Blue tour a week
before and now were starting work on a new album while taking some well deserved
time off. Although they were still working hard on the album and promotional
gigs they were enjoying the time they had at home with their family and friends.
A.J. and Heather had done nothing but sit around A.J.’s house the hole week
and now they both had to go back to their jobs.
At the day’s end they returned home and started watching a movie when
they got another call from John’s landlord at his apartment.
“They want us to go down to the station… They found your wallet.”
A.J. said as he got up from his spot on the couch and started moving to his car.
Heather followed.
“Murder?” Heather breathed out in a whisper; it was an unthinkable
thing. Suicide was even more bizarre considering the life John had. She just
didn’t know what to think.
A.J. drove to the police station in silence making his own decisions.
‘She is NOT a murderer.’ He told himself, trying to make himself believe it.
He knew she wasn’t, she couldn’t hurt a fly, but the way the investigator
was talking he was calling her a monster. The way they found John’s body was
enough to make anyone sick to their stomach, he was sliced down the stomach, cut
from head to toe, you could tell he had made a struggle and tried to fight back.
He was swimming in blood from the way they described it. A.J. saw a flash of the
image in his mind and quickly shook it away. She couldn’t have done anything
like that. Not in a million years would he believe it. He glanced over at her,
her head resting in the palm of her hand and her elbow propped up on the open
car window with her air being blown away from her face, she looked like an
angel; his angel. He couldn’t get the thought from his mind so he turned the
radio on for a distraction.
Once they got to the station Heather was taken to a solid white room with
a small table in the middle and two chairs. As she looked around the room an
intercom system was based in a wall in the corner, a window sat on either side
of the room, one looking out into the city, and the other looking into the
hallway. There was an uncomfortable feel in the room as she took a seat and
waited for whoever was to meet her there. She sat and looked around the room,
having no doubt that they were watching her from the old video camera mounted up
in the top corner of a wall. She sat fiddling with her fingers for the longest
time before someone finally cam in. A man in his late thirties walked through
the door, closing it silently on his way in, he looked over at her uneasily and
shook her hand and introduced himself before sitting down.
“I’m a P.I., Officer Williams. My partner talked to Mr. McLean on the
phone earlier.” He started, he sighed heavily before opening the folder he had
in his hands, he laid it out on the table carefully and looked down at the
papers he had spread out, all with reports of what they found and questions he
was to ask her.
“I really don’t see why you think I had something to do with this.”
Heather quietly proclaimed. As Officer Williams looked up at her, his eyebrows
raised, she looked down at her hands in her lap.
“Well we did find some of your belongings in his apartment. Where you
there last night?” He asked her as he picked up a pen and scribbled something
down in his notes.
Heather stammered a minute, “No.” She said, looking up at him. “I
haven’t even talk to John since Sunday…at church.” She whispered, feeling
as if her voice was getting week, she swallowed hard and tried to keep the tears
from coming.
“I realize this is a bad time to put you through this, learning that
your friend’s been murdered, then being questioned…were you…close
friends?” He asked, trying to be of some comfort.
“We were friends. I didn’t really get to see him a whole lot ‘cause
of my work, but on occasions we were like best friends.” She told him, feeling
a little more confident of her voice.
“Could you tell me a little about him?” Williams asked, he looked up
at her, trying to be a little more collected. It had been a hard day and since
this seemed to be a very fragile woman he couldn’t let his partner go in there
and pretend she was some kind of hardened criminal. He knew if Sherman got in
there he would tear her apart with questions and pictures, and everything he
could just to get something out of her.
“Well, he was very funny, he could always crack a joke in the middle of
a really depressing time and everyone would be alright with that…He went to
church almost every Sunday morning…” Heather wiped a tear from her cheek and
Officer Williams slid a box of Kleenex over to her, she thanked him and
continued telling him about john, he wrote everything down and just let her
talk.
“Are you sure you weren’t there that night?” He asked one more
time. After a moment of silence he thought of asking the question again, “
Miss Lyle?” He asked. She sniffled. “Were you there last night.”
“Yes.” She whispered, it was barely audible but he heard her.
“Mr. McLean seems to think you’ve been with him the last few days.”
“I know. He was asleep and I…I went to John’s place, but he was
still alive when I left. I swear I didn’t kill him. I loved him.” She
whispered the last sentence and looked up at Williams.
“Were you having an affair with Mr. Coledo?” Officer Williams asked
in a whisper as if the whole world were listening at that moment. Heather closed
her eyes and nodded her head.
“A.J. doesn’t know anything.”
“Mrs. Jackson, the landlords wife saw you leaving his apartment at
exactly 3:15; is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you go when you left Mr. Coledo’s?” He asked, scribbling
everything down. Heather was afraid of what was happening what if they told
A.J., she’d loose him, and she didn’t know what she’d do with out A.J. She
continued to answer questions.
“I went back to A.J.’s house, got back in bed and went to sleep. He
never knew I was gone.- wait, did you say 3:15 or 2:15?”
“I said 3:15? Why; is that not right?” He looked up at her, his
eyebrows knitted on his forehead.
“No, I left at 2:15, when I got home it was almost three.” She
answered.
“Are you sure? My report says 3.”
“Yeah I’m sure, I remember looking at my watch when I was putting it
back on and seeing 2:15, when I got and went back to bed and laid there for
awhile and A.J. woke up, and asked me what time it was, I told him almost 3
o’clock.”
“Okay, I’ll have to check that.” He said circling the time on his
notes. After a few more questions she was free and he showed her back to the
main office, they talked for a minute, told her that if she tried to leave town
there would be serious punishment and that they would be getting back to her,
that they at least needed her as a witness in court. Heather never told A.J.
about her being there that night and leaving her coat and wallet there.