Chapter 13

A.J. and Brian were “escorted” to another section of the hospital, into a room cold and void of anything to distract themselves with. The three agents there were menacing, their eyes vacant of emotion or feeling at all.

A.J. had never felt threatened by the FBI or any law enforcement in his life, but these men looked like they were hired to be interrogators, scary and overall threatening. A.J. had to bite back a fit of truth at the looks of their intimidating eyes. He doubted whether anyone in the room was crazy about hearing him apologize for killing his fish in the fifth grade.

“So boys,” one of the agents said calmly as both A.J. and Brian sat before him. The only thing between them was a white coffee table, which one of the men had the holster of his gun lying on. A.J. gulped. If that was supposed to alarm him, it was working pretty damn well.

“It wasn’t either of us,” Brian said quickly.

A.J. shot him a look. Obviously the agents wouldn’t believe that. If the agents suspected them enough to call them in there for interrogation, he doubted they would just smile and say, “Oh, well that’s good to know. You can leave.” Brian’s word may have been enough for A.J., but these agents knew nothing about them. They weren’t going to take the word of a man they already suspected.

The interrogation went off rather smoothly. A.J. answered “no” to every question, Brian following suit. A.J. had to admit that by the end of the interrogation, he was shaking slightly. How could they think he would ever slip his best friend drugs?

As a final note as they were leaving to return to the waiting room, A.J. added, “I wouldn’t hurt him. He’s practically my brother.” Disappointed with himself when his mini-speech went off with a flop and a keeling over in front of the stony-faced agents, A.J. hastened his step and got the hell out of there, Brian by his side.

<~*~>

“How could they suspect one of us?” A.J. seethed to Brian later on their way to A.J.’s home.

Brian looked teasingly nervous. “Should I have let you drive? You’re pissed, and that’s as bad as drunk…”

A.J. swerved, taken aback at the words. He stared at Brian, a glare that was multiplied by ten thanks to A.J.’s sunglasses. “What?” he exploded. “What the fuck was that?”

Brian shifted. “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean it that way…” He trailed off, gulping. He smiled weakly. “Bwian sowwie…” he said impishly, grinning.

A.J. rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the road. He may have known the roads like the inside of his favorite convertible, but his mind was wandering, and that was more dangerous than being smashed and being pissed combined.

Maybe it was one of his band mates that poisoned Howie… A.J. shook the thought off. Who the hell was he kidding? The five of them were tight, and all of them were severely worried about Howie. But maybe one of them was worried about his own back… After all, Kevin was acting strangely distant recently…

Snap out of it, Alex! A.J. berated himself. This is Kevin you’re trying to accuse here, not Marilyn Manson or Eminem.

But it had to be one of them. The doctors at Mercy Hospital may have been lunatics, but what motives would they have to murder Howie? The mere fact that a computer virus in their own systems had hoodwinked them made them look very bad indeed. Why would they sabotage themselves? And St. Gabriella’s Hospital had found out it was a virus.

Unless it was all a ploy and they were in it together…

You’re losing it, McLean, A.J. thought, shaking his head.

<~*~>

A week later, Howie was released from the hospital on a sort of probation. He had to return to the hospital every two days to get treatment, but the hospital was more concerned with his emotional health. His voice came and went now, but when it did come back, it was hoarse and soft. Not to insinuate that his voice had ever been particularly loud to begin with.

A.J. was adamant about Howie staying with him again. Brian, Nick, and Kevin did also. A.J. agreed to that part pretty much instantly. After all, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the room. His mansion was enormous, practically begging more people to live in it.

As the days went on, A.J. suspected his band mates more and more. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Who else had access to Howie twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week practically? Who could slip acid into his drink when Howie wasn’t looking? And most of all, if it was one of them, he would know his band mates would never turn him in.

Just like A.J. wasn’t planning to.

He couldn’t. How could he possibly turn in Nick, his little brother? Or Brian, his level headed comic relief? Or Kevin, his only father figure in his life since his true father divorced his mother and moved away? If it were one of them, he would never have the heart to submit him to a life in a jail cell somewhere.

It couldn’t be one of them.

But he was Howie’s best friend, and that obligated him to at least make sure they were innocent. If they were, A.J. could get a full night’s sleep. He just had to wait for the right time. Luckily, that time came the next day.

“Hey A.J., we’re all goin’ out to lunch, wanna come with?” Brian asked, grinning mischievously.

Yeah, I’ll bet you’re mischievous, you rat. THAT’S WHY I KNOW YOU DID IT!

A.J. smiled. “No thanks. I’m just gonna chill here.”

Howie frowned. “You sure?” he asked, voice subdued and quiet, a little on the raspy side.

A.J. smirked. “You sound like me,” he snickered.

Howie turned bright red. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“C’mon, damn it, I’m hungry!” Nick whined.

Want the attention, Nicky? THAT’S WHY YOU DID IT! IT’S YOU! I KNOW YOU DID!

A.J. rolled his eyes. “Go on, I’ll be fine here.” He waved his hand at them. “Out, go!”

As the four of them left, Kevin hung back and gave him an oddly serious look. “Don’t get into trouble while we’re gone,” he said shortly before turning around and shutting the door behind him.

Dumbstruck, A.J. stood in his own hallway, wondering if he had been threatened.

<~*~>

“Okay, Kev, I won’t get into trouble,” A.J. said to himself as he rifled through Kevin’s clothes meticulously. He sighed. “Nick and Brian’s stuff will be so much easier to dig through. Neither of them are as frickin alphabetical with their crap.”

After two bags, three drawers, and a bathroom of absolutely nothing, A.J. sat down on Kevin’s bed, giving up. “The man’s clean,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t believe it, he’s so suspicious! And that last thing he said to me… Man the guy’s a walking obvious.” He paused. “Whatever the fuck that is…”

He flopped down on Kevin’s bed, not really caring if he screwed up Kevin’s freakily neat bedspread. He hadn’t seen anal Kevin in a while, it would be fun to watch the red veins in Kevin’s eyes pop out again. Imagining it made A.J. smile, grin, smirk, and then burst out laughing.

He turned onto his side, habitually sliding his hand underneath the pillow. His fingertip brushed something sharp. He yelped and sat up like a bolt of lightning, examining his finger. A bead of blood stood atop A.J.’s ring finger. He stared at the pillow like it was about to explode.

Carefully he picked the pillow up and set it aside. His fear drew every drop of color from his face. There on the mattress was a syringe needle, with an unlabeled gel packet next to it.

A.J.’s eyes bulged. “He got Howie when he was sleeping,” he whispered, recalling how Howie could sleep through absolutely anything. And if Kevin had…

He jumped up from the bed. “It’s not true, it’s not true, it can’t be true…” he chanted, shutting his eyes. But there was only one way to know for certain. He hesitantly walked to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He promptly slammed it shut, gasping for air.

Kevin had Novocain in his medicine cabinet, and a syringe needle and medication underneath his pillow.

“It’s Kevin,” A.J. breathed, digging his fingers into his mouth.