Direct Evidence by Patrick Logan

Author:Patrick Logan [Logan, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pathological Ink
Published: 2023-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 41

Chase shouldn’t have been surprised but she was.

There was no security footage for the days that Stu claimed to have gotten his oil changed at Gordan’s. The man whom she’d lied to in the lobby was the head mechanic and also the manager and while he was not impressed by her deception, he did his best to be helpful. The issue was, simply, the man wasn’t; he could not, for the life of him, explain why that day was the only day when the cameras didn’t seem to be working.

“Does anyone remember seeing the car in here?” Chase shouted over the ambient garage sounds. “C’mon, it’s a black Mercedes-Maybach for Christ’s sake.”

Most of the men shook their heads.

Apparently, serving a clientèle that included high rollers and Vegas performers meant that one could travel in relative anonymity even when driving a car that was worth nearly a quarter million dollars.

“Oil change, last Wednesday?” Chase continued to press. “Anybody?”

Nobody spoke up and she cursed under her breath.

They were wasting their time here.

She turned to the mechanic.

“I’m going to need a list of your employees.”

The man nodded and disappeared back into the lobby. Chase dismissed the other workers and watched them closely, trying to pick up some sort of tell.

Was it one of them? Was one of these men responsible for murdering Jake and framing Stu?

Why?

It didn’t make sense and there was no way to tell.

The mechanic returned and handed over a printout that had grease smudges on it.

“Here, hope this helps.”

It probably wouldn’t—the person they were looking for either didn’t work at Gordon’s or, if they did, identifying his name amongst the others would prove impossible.

Still, the mechanic had been as helpful as he could be, which Chase didn’t deserve, and she thanked him.

Then she dragged Floyd back to Stu’s car.

“I’m tired. So damn tired.”

“Me too,” Floyd admitted.

“Did you book a place to stay?” she asked as they made their way back toward Stu’s mansion.

Floyd shook his head.

“Naw, just hopped on a plane. Stu has enough rooms for—“

“Probably best if you get a hotel room,” Chase suggested. She didn’t think that Stu was dangerous, far from it, but if he was convicted it wouldn’t look good for three FBI agents—well, two current and one ex—to have been staying at his home before the trial. “I’m at the Juniper Inn, just up the road. Nice place. I’m sure Stu will cover the costs if you and Tate want to stay there.”

“Hmm.”

This response was starting to bug Chase nearly as much as being referred to as ‘ma’am’. She pulled into Stu’s driveway, put the car in park, and then aggressively turned toward her friend. It was time to clear the air once and for all.

“Floyd, when I—“

“Why do you care so much?” the man interrupted.

Chase recoiled as if Floyd’s words were the equivalent of a physical assault.

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you care so much about Stu Barnes?”

“He’s a—“

Once again, Floyd refused to let her answer.

“I get that he saved you. And I know all about what happened in Vegas.

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