Chaos by Jeff Downs

Author:Jeff Downs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2015-08-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

After nearly a full minute went by I finally asked the one question Lou hadn’t answered yet. “Okay, so this distillery was shipping grain alcohol to Russian mobsters. What’s this got to do with me?”

“Quite a bit, actually.”

“How?” I asked, frustrated at the investigator’s apparent desire to keep me in the dark as long as possible. I was tired of his games.

Without so much as a flinch, Lou withdrew another sheet of paper from the top drawer of his desk. It was a faxed copy of some sort of invoice. “See for yourself. Internal records tell it all.”

I took the paper and tried to make sense of it.

“The bottom, Jason. Look at the bottom,” Lou said.

Kelly leaned over to get a glimpse of the paper herself. When the investigator knew my eyes had found what he’d wanted me to see, he spoke once more, smiling slightly. “It was you, Jason Harrington. You prepared the shippin’ manifests for the blue grain alcohol from McAllister.”

The private investigator leaned across the desk, enunciating his next words very clearly.

“Every gallon of it.”

The name “Jason Harrington” was written on the bottom of the form in front of me, but it wasn’t my signature. In fact, it bore no resemblance whatsoever to my scribble.

The relief I felt at that moment probably increased my seated stature by two inches. Of course, I had nothing to do with anything I was being accused of, but to finally see my name written by some other hand was, to say the least, vindicating.

I passed it over to Kelly, who was now grinning from ear to ear.

“So, this is what we’ve been looking for, right?” I asked.

Lou was pouring himself a cup of coffee, his face now stern and resolute. “I wish it were that easy, kids. I really do. But remember, they’ve got DNA evidence against ya. That’s gonna be tough to beat. Some might view this as physical evidence, others . . . circumstantial. I’m afraid we’re gonna need more than this signature ta get ya untangled from this little dilemma. Coffee?”

We both shook our heads.

“No? And, of course, this won’t do anythin’ ta save ya from the Mafia.” He leaned back in his chair, resting the edge of his black coffee mug on his ample middle. “I wanna do a little more diggin’ into this signature. I got no idea who signed it and whether he really shares your name. I just thought ya might enjoy knowin’ that ya aren’t goin’ crazy.”

I took the fax from Kelly and stared at the signature once more. I ran my index finger over it as if to make sure it was real. Finally, I raised my head. My eyes met Lou’s. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Lou sat up, apparently a bit befuddled by my sudden display of gratitude, and set his mug on his desk so he could be free to gesture, as he often did, with his hands. “Hey, uh, this ain’t much. Really. But it’s a start.”

I nodded.

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