Finding Michael (Michael Jackson Fanfic)

"But I needed to keep this secret."

I don't say anything to Bridgett as we make our journey from LA to Las Vegas. But I think she knows something is up from the way I keep shooting looks in her directions. Or maybe her friend caught her up on what happened back at the hotel. Either way, she looks guilty.

I'm not sure whether or not the guy will try to contact any of the girls in attempts of finding the letter, but I'm positive none of them will break. I don't say anything about what happened earlier either.

As soon as we get back to the Swan and Dolphin, we go to our individual rooms and pack up our things. So much for a fun Moonwalkers vacation.

As I take down my Michael Jackson posters, and neatly fold them, I hear someone come into the room.

"Can we talk?" Bridgett asks softly, shutting the door.

"Get out." I point at the door without turning around.

"Shania, I'm sorry." She stresses, "But I did it for a reason -."

"Bridgett, leave." I grind out.

"You need to know why I did it!" She pleads.

I turn around, glaring at her. "You knew he was alive the whole time!" I shout. "But you tried to make everyone think I was crazy! You tried to make me think I was crazy, when you knew the entire time! You're a liar, Bridgett... and that's all there is to it."

"It's my job to make sure no one finds out! I wanted to tell you guys so many times!" She pleads.

"Go cry to your maids." I roll my eyes.

"I didn't want any of you to get mixed up in this, Shan. This is bigger than any of us. I tried to stop you from finding out the truth on multiple occasions!" She explains in a rush.

I laugh once. "Good to know you had my back." I say sarcastically.

When everything is out of the drawers and packed up, I zip my suitcase.

"I was trying to keep you out of this twisted shit." She pleads gently. "Isn't that what friend's do?"

I spin around, scowling at her. "You are not my friend."

"What?" She blinks. "We've been friends since we were like nine, Shan. Moonwalkers pact, remember? How can you say that?" She asks, her voice tight.

"We were friends at one time but not anymore. As far as I'm concerned you're no longer apart of my life."

"But I needed to keep this secret."

"But you didn't need to tell the FBI everything we were doing. Or you're club or whatever the hell you call them. That was all you." I turn around again. "How are you even connected to them?"

She looks around, trapped, before she looks down and comes out with it. "Stan was one of the lawyers that helped Lance A. J. Hosmick start a new life."

"And you?"

"I handle the details of all the cases and help fabricate stories so nothing seems out of place. I forge documents and create fake certificates." She says quietly. "I got the job a few years after Stan landed his."

"So the death certificate... You knew that was a load of BS? You already knew that that was his real signature." I state as everything becomes crystal clear.

"Yeah." She whispers.

"Have you ever met him?"

She shakes her head. "Not directly, no... He doesn't like dealing with us that much. He always has people do it for him. I think he pretends we're not there most of the time."