Chapter 11
“Sonny, we can’t keep him at your place anymore. We’re gonna have to move him,” Brendan told
Sonny on the phone that night.
Even though Leighanne had believed him that morning, he knew she
could get suspicious and wonder what was really going on. And if she suspected anything, the first
place she would go for answers was Sonny’s house. And that couldn’t happen. Brian needed to be moved.
“Yeah, but where to?” Sonny asked. “Who else’s place could we put ‘im at?”
“Hm…” Brendan thought. He didn’t really have any other friends that
lived nearby. In fact, he really didn’t
have any other friends. He had always
been somewhat of a loner. Sonny, who
had grown up in the same trailer park as he, was his best and only real friend.
“I know. What about ol’ Doc
Walters?” Sonny suggested, saying the name of the man who had been Jackie
Littrell’s obstetrician at the time of Brendan’s birth.
“Doc Walters?!” Brendan asked incredulously. “But he still lives in Lexington, don’t he?”
“Yeah. So? We can drive Littrell up to his house.”
“Yeah, but will he agree to this?”
“Why wouldn’t he? He’s yer
Pa’s ol’ friend, ain’t he?”
“Well… yeah…”
“And he went along with that whole scheme when you two was born,
din’t he?”
“Well… yeah…”
“So what makes you think he won’t go along with this one?” Sonny
asked.
Brendan considered it.
Sonny had a point there. Dr.
Henry Walters had been a good friend of his father’s for years, and it was he
who had helped Jackie Littrell keep the fact that she was pregnant with twins
from her husband. He had risked his
career for that. So why wouldn’t he
agree to keep Brian in his basement for awhile?
“You’re right, Sonny. I’m
gonna call him up right now,” Brendan said.
“Alrighty. Tell me what he
says. Bye now,” Sonny said and hung up.
***
It was a cool April evening, and Dr. Henry Walters sat in his cozy
living room, watching TV, when the phone rang.
Who could that be? he wondered, forcing his fifty-six
year old body out of his armchair. He
walked across the room to the phone, which sat on an end table beside the
couch, and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Hank! How are you?” came a
young male voice, tinged with a soft Southern accent.
“I’m just fine, thanks. Who
is this?” Dr. Walters asked.
“This is Brendan Graves,” the man replied.
Dr. Walter’s brow furrowed in confusion.
Don Graves’ son? He hadn’t spoken
to young Brendan in years, since Don’s death.
Why would he be calling now?
“Well, hi, Brendan,” Dr. Walters greeted. “Haven’t heard from you in awhile. What have you been up to?”
“Well, I’ve got this little scheme I’m involved in right now,”
Brendan said.
“Scheme?”
“Yeah, scheme. It’s got to
do with my twin brother.”
Dr. Walter’s eyes narrowed.
Brendan’s twin brother was Brian Littrell, the Lexington native who had
gone on to become a world-famous Backstreet Boy. “Oh yeah?
What about him?”
Brendan snickered. “Well,”
he said, his voice lowering, as if he were about to reveal something
top-secret, “I kidnapped him.”
Dr. Walters gasped.
“Kidnapped?” he asked, unsure if he had heard Brendan correctly. After all, he hadn’t heard anything about
Brian Littrell getting kidnapped. He
may have been in his late fifties, but he still knew what was going on in the
world. Surely it would have been all
over the news.
“That’s right,” Brendan confirmed.
“And you wanna hear the best part?”
“What?”
“No one’s ever gonna find out.
You know why?”
“Why?” Dr. Walters asked weakly.
“Because,” Brendan’s voice dropped some more, “I’ve become him.”
“What do you mean?” Dr. Walters asked in shock.
“Literally, I’ve become him.
I’m living in his house, having sex with his wife, talking to his
friends, walking his dogs, everything.
I’ve become Brian Littrell. And
nobody knows.”
“Oh my,” was all Dr. Walters could say.
“Anyway, the real reason I called was because I need your help. See, I’ve been keeping Littrell in the
basement of my friend Sonny’s house. But
he only lives a few miles outside of Atlanta, and it’s really too close for
comfort. We want to move him somewhere
else. And you’re just the person to take
him.”
“What?!” Dr. Walters gasped.
“Brendan, are you mad?! I can’t
keep your captive at my house!”
“But why not?” Brendan asked.
“You don’t have to do much. Just
keep him tied up in your basement.”
Dr. Walters shook his head.
“No way,” he said firmly. “I won’t
have any part in it.”
“Fine!” Brendan snapped.
Dr. Walters was about to hang up, when Brendan shouted, “Wait!”
“What do you want now?” Dr. Walters asked.
“You know not to tell nobody about this, right? It’s confidential.”
“I know,” Dr. Walters said.
“I’m serious,” Brendan went on.
“You tell anyone about this, and you die. I will hunt you down and slit your
throat. You got that, old man?”
Dr. Walter’s eyes were wide with panic. “I got it,” he whispered. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“You better not,” Brendan growled.
“Or you’ll be sorry.”
***
“Sonny, what are we gonna do?
Doc Walters won’t help us, and now he knows!” Brendan cried. He had gotten off the phone with the doctor
just minutes earlier and had already called Sonny back. He was glad Leighanne was visiting one of
her girlfriends that evening; otherwise there was no way he could keep making
these calls without her knowing.
There was a long pause on Sonny’s end. Finally, he spoke.
“Kill Littrell.”
***
