Tainted Blood by Logan Patrick

Author:Logan, Patrick [Logan, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pathological Ink
Published: 2024-01-29T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 47

Chase was floored.

Images came flooding back, horrible images, first of Emily Dawson lying dead on the filthy mattress, then a blur of Tim Jardine at the gas station, forcing Felix into the green Mitsubishi.

“What the fuck?” There were no spaces between the words.

“Are you sure?” She heard Tate ask Linus, but his voice sounded muffled as if he was speaking underwater.

“I’m sure. Like I said, I don’t know who actually made the call or who was using the computer but—”

Chase suddenly reached forward and grabbed the sheets of paper. She scanned them, then dropped Pauly’s page and kept the rest.

“Chase?” Tate said.

Chase tried to swallow, but there was a bolus in her throat.

“Look.” The word came out as a croak.

She shoved the papers at her partner, pointing at the name of the person who had signed at the bottom.

“No fucking way.”

“What is it?” Linus asked. “Who’s Derek Madson?”

Tate clued him in.

“Derek Madsen is Duffy’s bodyguard. He was the one who shot Tim Jardine.”

Chase slumped in the booth. She inhaled deeply, relishing the pungent reek of tobacco smoke.

None of it made sense; the more they uncovered the more tangled the web became.

Tim Jardine. Paul Lopez. Duane Price. Roger Robledo. Manuel Churro. Diego Montoya. Chris Duffy. Derek Madison. Nathan Hayes. Emily Dawson. And Felix Adams.

Tate said something else, but once again she didn’t pick it up. Her partner placed his hand on top of hers.

“I was telling Linus that you took a fingerprint of the body in the morgue. You want him to look it up?”

“It’s Roger Robledo’s,” she said. But she produced the page with the fingerprint and handed it over.

“I’ll check, just to make sure. But I’m not going back to the office today. I think I covered my tracks, but you never know. I have some computers and software at my house. I’ll upload it from there.”

“What about the video?” Tate asked. “You said that you noticed something else?”

“Yeah. There’s a painting on the wall and there’s something connected to Pauly’s arm—”

This Chase heard loud and clear.

“What?”

“I dunno. It looks like an IV or something. There’s also a mask.”

“A mask?”

The man was speaking in riddles now.

“I have it all on my home computer. Come by and I’ll show you.”

Chase got up.

“No, not now. Shit. Don’t follow me. Please.” He was terrified.

Should he be?

Was Linus in danger? Would whoever was behind this target an FBI director?

They’d targeted her and followed her, if what Hampton said was accurate.

But they’d let her go.

Once.

“Okay, sure.”

Linus got out of the booth and tugged his hood even lower. It was a miracle that he could even see where he was going.

“Thanks Linus,” Tate said. “I owe you one now.”

The man swallowed hard, his throat one of the few things that was still visible.

Chase found herself repeating Hampton’s words from the text she’d received earlier that morning.

“Stay safe.”

And then the man was gone.

“This is fucked up,” Tate said. “This is really fucked up.”

“You’re telling me. I could use something to drink.”

“Me too. Want to get out of this shit hole?”

Chase looked around and considered her options.

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