Detectives Brown, Graham, and Bilson sat at their respective desks, each with an ear pressed to the phone. The instructions they’d received from the FBI were clear: At exactly 5pm Eastern Time, they were to call the given number for a conference call with Special Agent Alexander Davis. For the last several minutes, they’d all been sitting on hold, waiting for him to be ready. Finally, the hold music stopped.
“Detectives,” a deep voice said through the line, “Have you interviewed your suspects?”
“Yes,” they said, almost in unison.
“To start, what did the girls have to say about the Facebook group. How did they come to join it?”
“Well, I don’t know about the others, but I’d have to say that in order to tell that story, I should first tell the story of how the girls met,” Detective Graham offered.
“They’ve met in person? We did extensive research and could find absolutely no link between these three women except for that group. They’ve never lived near each other, didn’t attend the same colleges, have no relatives in common, they’ve never even purchased tickets to the same concert. How can they possibly know each other?” Special Agent Davis asked.
“They were all involved with Mr. Hanson at the same time,” Detective Bilson explained.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Special Agent Davis sighed, breaking his professional demeanor for just a moment before sobering himself, “I’m assuming that there’s a story behind how all of this culminated.”
All three detectives sat in silence for a few moments, unsure of how to continue. If they’d had a chance to talk first, to share stories, then it would have been a bit easier. Detective Brown cleared his throat.
“Since my girl got there first, I’ll go ahead and start. Feel free to chime in if my story doesn’t line up with the one you heard or if you have something to add,” he said before starting in. Together, the three detectives pieced together the stories they’d received while Special Agent Davis took notes at his desk in a Milwaukee hotel room.
* * *
Vivian stepped away from the baggage claim, a small suitcase and her purse in hand. She’d made a last minute decision to surprise Taylor since she knew he was going to be in Tulsa, and a cheap flight option had presented itself. As she made her way to find the closest rental car kiosk, she found her phone and called him.
“Hello?” he asked, deviating from his greeting of ‘Hey there.’ The smile is his voice was also absent, but Viv just chalked it up to him being busy and continued on down the wide airport walkway.
“Hey! Guess where I am,” she said.
“Central Park?” he guessed.
“The Tulsa International Airport,” she grinned, expecting him to sound excited.
“What?”
“You sounded so down yesterday when I talked to you, so I just wanted to come surprise you,” she explained, trying to keep the smile on her face, “I thought you’d be excited.”
“I am,” he said, “Um, we’re already down at the venue. Why don’t you just head on down.” He rattled off the address once she said she was ready, and she decided to get a cab instead of renting a car when she realized that she didn’t know a damned thing about where anything was in Tulsa.
A half hour later, the taxi pulled in front of Cain’s Ballroom. Taylor had told her to come around the back where the alley door would apparently be unlocked. He hadn’t sounded as enthusiastic as he usually did when they talked. Whatever had been bothering him the day before must have still been an issue.
Just inside the back door, she found Zac digging through a cooler in a large, open area.
“Hey Zac,” she greeted. He dropped the bottle of water back in the icy water before picking it back up quickly and spinning around.
“Viv! Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, sounding slightly manic.
“Surprising Taylor. And you, apparently,” she laughed.
“Does he know you’re in Tulsa?”
“I just talked to him when I was at the airport. Are you okay?”
“Fine! Just, um… it’s good to see you. It’s been a long time,” Zac said, giving her shoulder a pat before heading down the hallway to the left. Partway down, he turned and pointed to his right, “This is Taylor’s.” She nodded and started in that direction, dragging her suitcase behind her. His door was closed, and she knocked twice before opening the door slowly. She found him inside, hunched over a table and writing in a notebook.
“Hey stranger,” she said as she closed the door behind her. He closed the notebook and turned to face her.
“Hey there,” he smiled, and she felt herself relax. In the year they’d been together, he’d erased every one of her misconceptions about men and relationships. He was kind where others had been inconsiderate, listened when others had tuned her out, cared about her opinions when others had ignored. Viv waited for him to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until the strength left her legs, but he stayed right in his seat. The weight of the large purse on her shoulder was starting to strain several different muscles, so she placed her things against the wall before settling herself in on the very comfortable looking couch.
For the next twenty minutes, they caught up on the kinds of things that didn’t usually get discussed during their phone conversations or in emails. It was great just being in the same room with him again. She hadn’t realized until he was sitting there in the glorious flesh before her just how much she valued their time together.
A knock sounded on the door and Zac’s head appeared as the door opened.
“Time for sound check,” he said before disappearing again. Taylor stood for the first time and headed for the door, taking his notebook with him.
“They’ll be delivering food soon in the room down the hall. Help yourself. I’ll be back in a few hours,” he told her before leaving. Viv wiped a hand across her unkissed lips before getting up to take a book from her purse and making herself comfortable on the couch.
Thirty pages of her novel later, Zac walked past the partway open door and back again with several bottles of water in hand. The distinct sound of high heels started clicking in the direction of the room with the coolers Vivian had entered the building through.
“Zachary,” a female voice said.
“Satan,” Viv could hear him respond before a heavy door slammed shut at the far opposite end of the hallway. Before she could laugh at the exchange, the door to Taylor’s dressing room was pushed open. Standing in the doorway was a girl around her age with cascading blonde hair, a gray shift dress with a thick black belt, and some sky high black espadrilles.
“Can I help you?” Vivian asked hesitantly.
“I’m looking for Taylor,” the girl said, shifting her weight and looking incredibly annoyed, “Who are you?”
“Taylor’s doing a sound check. I’m Vivian, and you are?”
“Brielle,” she said, stepping inside, “I guess I’ll just wait for him.”
Viv nodded and shifted on the couch. Brielle dropped her purse heavily onto the desk Taylor had been writing on a half hour earlier and started playing with her cell phone while Viv continued to read. Once Brielle was apparently bored, she sighed loudly and came over to sit at the other end of the couch.
“So, how do you know Taylor?” Brielle asked.
“We’ve been seeing each other for the last year,” Viv explained, not liking the way Brielle laughed after she’d given her response.
“Oh, you poor thing,” she said once her laughs had subsided.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve been sleeping with him for years,” Brielle said, and Viv’s stomach turned over.
“What?” she managed, finding her voice pathetic sounding. She didn’t want to believe Brielle, but for some reason, she did.
“I’m sorry if you didn’t know, but we’ve been seeing each other for the last three years, almost every month.” Vivian’s eyes clamped shut and the book fell from her fingers to the floor.
A year. An entire year of letting herself be just like every other stupid girl in the world, trusting a guy who didn’t deserve to be trusted. She had let him in, and he had been cheating on her the entire time. Tears fell quickly, before she had a chance to stop them. Viv didn’t want to cry in front of this girl, this flippant seeming person who had dropped the news of Taylor’s infidelity like she’d said what the weather was like outside.
“I can’t believe this,” Vivian said to herself, “I’m such an idiot.”
“No, he’s the idiot. Seriously, he’s not a good person.”
“You’re the one who’s been sleeping with him for three years.”
“It’s been sex and nothing more. The second he starts to talk I want to jam pointy things into my ears,” Brielle said, shuddering at the thought. Viv didn’t know how to respond to that, so they just sat in tense silence for several minutes, hearing only distant and muffled noises coming from the stage and the cheap clock ticking away on the wall.
“Did he ask you to come here?” Vivian finally asked, having made a possible connection between Taylor’s strange mood if Brielle was due to arrive at any time.
“No. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him in weeks. I got some test results back that I need to tell the self-important a-hole about.”
“You’re pregnant?” Viv asked, her eyes opening wide.
“God no,” Brielle said, “You haven’t slept with him recently, have you?”
“About a month ago. Why?”
“You might want to get tested, then. The bastard gave me syphilis,” Brielle spat, “I mean, I know it’s treatable, but how gross!”
“Just, stop talking for awhile. Please,” Vivian begged, getting up and running for the bathroom where she emptied the contents of her stomach. Once she’d gotten herself under control and her eye makeup wiped from the places it had streaked down her cheeks, she took a deep breath and went back out into the other room. Brielle was back to playing with her phone, but she set it down when Viv came back in.
“I didn’t know that Taylor was seeing anyone. I’m not the best person in the world, but I’m no homewrecker,” Brielle said.
“Well, I didn’t know about you either, so I guess we’re even,” Viv sighed, “I should have known better. I’ve always known better, but I thought he was different.”
“He is. Just not in a good way,” Brielle said.
“Does he know about the syphilis thing?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to get in contact, but he won’t return my calls all of a sudden.”
“So he might know, but not have told me. This just keeps getting better and better,” Viv said, letting her head drop to the back of the couch.
“He’s going to flip when he comes back here and sees us together,” Brielle said, unable to laugh a little.
“Good. I hope he has a heart attack.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell him about the syphilis. Then, he can die a painful death from that. I might actually like to see that…” Brielle trailed off, imagining the sight in her head.
“I could think of many things I’d like him to go through right now. Most involve the dismemberment of his penis,” Viv practically growled. They went back and forth like that for a few minutes, but were interrupted when someone stepped into the doorway and demanded to know who they were. She was short with long brown hair and sharp blue eyes that were piercing into the girls on the couch.
“This is Vivian. She’s been dating Taylor for the last year,” Brielle explained while gesturing towards Viv.
“And this is Brielle. She’s been sleeping with Taylor and he gave her syphilis,” Viv said, doing the same. The girl in the doorway’s eyes narrowed, and she glared at them before her stern demeanor crumpled and she dissolved into tears.
“I’m Molly. I’m Taylor’s fiance,” she managed through her tears.
“His what?” Viv and Brielle asked in unison. Molly just stomped her foot hard into the ground before turning and leaving. The other two girls looked at each other before grabbing their purses and chasing after her. They caught her just as she was escaping into the alley. She didn’t address them directly or even look at them, but she started talking as soon as they were all in the alley.
“I knew something was going on. He’s been so weird for the last few years, even after he proposed. I had a feeling that something was up and I was right. I was so right,” she ranted as she stomped out onto the sidewalk.
“I had no idea he was engaged. I never would have started anything with him if I’d known,” Viv blurted. Molly stopped walking and faced them.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked, “My fiance, the man I’ve been with since 2001 has been cheating on me with you two. He did the cheating, not you.”
“Let’s just go someplace where we can talk,” Viv suggested.
“Where do you think I’m going?” Molly asked, nodding her head to her right. The other girls looked and found that they were standing outside of a bar. They followed her inside and found the place almost empty. A booth in the far back corner was empty and no one else was sitting anywhere near it.
“Can I get you all something?” a fifty-something waitress asked.
“No,” Brielle started to say, but Molly interrupted.
“I want a Long Island Iced Tea. A big one. And a plate of something greasy. With cheese!”
“A gin and tonic,” Viv said.
“Cosmo,” Brielle consented. The waitress went to put in their order, leaving them alone.
“I want to know everything,” Molly said, “And I mean everything.”
“Well,” Brielle started, “I met Taylor about three years ago after one of his shows in Chicago–which is where I live–and we’ve been hooking up regularly ever since. He never mentioned that he was engaged, I swear.”
“I met Taylor last January in New York City. I’m a freelance photographer and I’d been hired to shoot one of their concerts. I met him back stage, and we’ve been dating ever since. He calls or emails me every day. But he was being really weird this past week, so I decided to come down to surprise him,” Vivian said.
“And what is this about syphilis?” Molly demanded.
“I found out recently that I have syphilis, and Taylor was the only person I was with during the time when I had to have contracted it.”
“So, I find out that he’s been cheating on me with at least two people and I might have syphilis?” Molly said, the tone of her voice turning hysterical just as the waitress appeared with their drinks.
“Your nachos will be right up,” she said, looking at all of them and taking in their moods, “And I’ll go ahead and bring another round over.”
Each of the girls downed about half of their drinks in one sip before they started talking again.
“Well, what do we do now?” Viv asked.
“All I want to do is kick him in the balls for giving me an STD and then never see his face ever again,” Brielle said.
“All I want to do is throw this ring in his face,” Molly said before sucking down the rest of her drink. She shoved it to the edge of the table before turning her attention to the huge diamond on her left ring finger.
“It’s beautiful,” Viv offered.
“It’s meaningless,” Molly sighed, turning it around so only the plain band was showing.
“When you showed up, we were discussing all of the horrible ways in which we would like him to die. Want to play? It helps,” Brielle said. The waitress brought over their other round and the enormous plate of cheese covered nachos before any of them spoke again.
“I’d kind of love for him to get crushed in the back of a garbage truck,” Molly finally said.
“That’s a great one,” Brielle laughed, “Or, covered in baby oil and tied to something in the desert.”
For the next hour, the girls devoured greasy food and drank drink after strong drink while plotting various ways to end Taylor’s philandering life.
“Oh shit, the concert started!” Viv said, much louder than she’d meant to. Earlier, she’d been crying and feeling the harsh stings of betrayal. But for some reason, sitting with the other girls he’d hurt was helping. It was helping a lot.
“That’s okay, I wouldn’t want to drop all this on him right before a show anyway,” Molly said.
“He cheated on you and you still don’t want to just ruin his day?” Brielle asked, “You’re a better person than I am.”
“It’s not for him, it’s for the fans who paid money to see the show,” Molly explained before taking a sip of the Sea Breeze she’d switched to after a couple of Long Islands, “I can’t believe I’m sitting here talking to you two. I mean, you’re the ones Taylor was cheating on me with.”
“He hurt all of us somehow. None of us knew about each other. This is all on him,” Viv said.
“The stupid bastard,” Brielle added before holding up a finger to them, “I have an idea!”
“And it is?” Molly asked. It was the most drunk any of them could remember being in recent years, but at the moment, none of them cared.
“Well, talking to each other is feeling pretty good, right? And discussing all the ways we want Taylor to suffer is awesome, too. So, let’s make a place where we can post stuff whenever we’re feeling mad at him,” Brielle said excitedly, “Viv, you don’t happen to have a laptop in your suitcase, do you?”
“I do,” she said, looking at Brielle through unfocused eyes.
“Then let’s go!”
She dropped a hundred dollar bill on the table before they all practically stumbled their way out the door and down the street to the venue. Once they were back in Taylor’s dressing room, the screaming of fans audible even all the way back there, they huddled together on the couch while Viv’s computer turned on and found a wireless signal. Brielle took control from there, and the other two girls watched on, giggling drunkenly the entire time, as she created a Facebook group called Taylor Hanson Must Die. They took turns signing on and accepting each other’s friend requests, and once they were all members of the group, they put the computer away and sat back down on the couch.
The drunken euphoria they’d been feeling while tearing Taylor to shreds in the bar was gone. Brielle was feeling guilty that she’d had to be the one to tell the girls about their potential sexual heath issue. Viv was feeling betrayed and angry that she’d trusted Taylor when he had been hurting her and others. Molly was broken, the life she’d thought she was living nothing but a terrible, painful lie.
Eventually, the doors to the stage opened to a cacophony of noise and they knew it was time.
“Ready?” Viv asked.
“So ready,” Brielle practically groaned with relief.
“No, but I have to be, right?” Molly asked.
“Come on, ladies. Douchebag is finally getting what he deserves. This is a good thing. He hurt all of us,” Brielle said.
“Hey…” Taylor said as he entered, the smile that had been on his face when he’d first entered the room immediately gone when he saw the girls sitting hip-to-hip on the couch, “Shit.”
“Yeah, shit is right,” Brielle said as she stood, intending to go first. Zac and Isaac appeared over Taylor’s shoulders for just a second before surveying the situation and bolting. “Did you get my messages?”
“Yes, I got them. I don’t have syphilis,” he said.
“Bull shit. You have it, and you probably gave it to these two girls who didn’t deserve to have you cheat on them. I don’t know why you never told me that you were involved with someone, but you didn’t. I hate you, and you’re even more of a tool than I thought,” she spat before brushing past him to leave. Before she did, she faced the girls again, “Ladies, I’ll be in touch. Trust me.” And with that, she was gone. Vivian looked at Molly and together they stood.
“You were just sleeping with Brielle, which I don’t understand, but at least you weren’t pretending to be in a relationship with her like you were with me. I would have never gotten involved with you if I’d known about Molly. She’s your fiance, Taylor! How could you do this to her?” Viv demanded. Taylor opened his mouth to speak, but obviously decided not to and clamped it back shut. His eyes never left Molly’s face.
“We’ve been together for seven years. You’re my best friend,” Molly said, tears spilling over her lashes and down her cheeks, “I don’t know why you felt the need to cheat, and I especially don’t understand why you got involved in another relationship. It doesn’t matter why, though, because you did it all the same.” With only a minimal struggle, she ripped the ring from her finger and threw it at him, not bothering to watch as it bounced off his chest and fell to the ground. She stormed out the door, leaving Viv alone with him.
“Viv,” he started.
“I’ll be fine. All you did was prove to me that you’re exactly like every other guy I’ve ever known. I thought you were special, but I was so wrong,” was all she said before stepping carefully over Molly’s discarded engagement ring as she retrieved her suitcase and left.
* * *
“Wow,” was all Special Agent Davis said once the three detectives had finished piecing together their story. They weren’t exactly the same, but the general consensus was clear, “Do any of you have reason to believe that your suspect could have been the one to poison Mr. Hanson?”
“Vivian is hurt, but she’s more upset about what he did to Molly than what he did to her. I don’t think there’s any way she could be behind this, and the psychologist I had evaluate her feels the same way,” Detective Brown said.
“Brielle just wanted to let him have it. She never cared about him enough to kill him in the first place,” Detective Graham added.
“Molly’s heart is broken, but she’s still in love with him. She wouldn’t kill him,” Detective Bilson said.
“And the Facebook group?” Special Agent Davis inquired.
“Nothing more than a place for the girls to vent. Every post on that page shows that,” Detective Graham said, “But if the girls didn’t do it, then who did? Weren’t they the only real lead?”
“Detectives, thank you so much for all of your excellent work. I’ll be in touch again very soon,” Special Agent Davis said, “Now, I think it’s time that I had a little chat with Mr. Hanson.”