Chapter 5: Utah

Alex drove the black SUV rental up to a tall, brick building. Salt Lake City Field Office was printed in bold, white letters on the face of the building, which was beginning to show its age.

He and Jack strode up to the building, sunglasses on and briefcases in hand. Alex grabbed the door and held it open for Jack. She flashed him a grateful smile and stepped inside.

They slipped off their sunglasses just as a man in a black suit approached them.

"Agent Mahone? Agent Harper?" he asked as he extended his hand, "Hi, I'm Lyle. We have those files you requested."

"Good," replied Alex, as they turned to walk into a small, nearly empty, office.

The room had two desks, two chairs, and two computers. That was it.

"Could you have the files sent here, please?"

"Sure," replied Lyle, "But why do you need them anyway? It's not like they're much help with the Fox River Eight cons."

"Just bring me the files," snapped Alex, beginning to get edgy.

"Uh, yeah, okay," replied Lyle, clearly taken back by Alex's tone, "I'll get them to you as soon as I can."

"The sooner the better."

Chicago FBI Field Office

"Did you confirm that lead on Patoshik?" asked Wheeler as he walked down a narrow hallway.

"Just got confirmation," replied another agent, standing up to meet him.

"Good, I'll call Mahone."

Wheeler grabbed a nearby phone and dialed Alex's cell phone number.

"Yeah?" snapped Alex, irritably.

"It's Wheeler. We have a lead on Patoshik."

Alex sighed and leaned back in his temporary office chair. Jack glanced up from her copy of the files and gave Alex a curious glance.

"What's the lead?" demanded Alex, short on patience.

"He was seen in Cedargrove, Wisconsin."

"So call the local authorities," said Alex, exasperated, "We're kind of busy. The focus needs to be here, in Utah…on Scofield and Burrows."

Alex hung up the phone and turned back to the file on his desk.

"What was that about?" asked Jack, briefly looking up from her paperwork.

"Lead on Patoshik. They can handle it."

Alex looked through the file and froze for a moment. Suddenly, he stood paper in hand, and nearly ran out of the small office.

Jack dropped her papers and followed him.

"Lyle!" yelled Alex, as he approached what appeared to be some sort of break room.

"Agent Mahone? What can I do for you?"

"There's a man listed here," he replied, pointing at the paper, "He claims to have the only one-hundred dollar D.B. Cooper bill in circulation. His name's Harold Jenkins. Says he's a gas attendant. You worked the case right?"

"Yeah," replied Lyle, face brightening with the memory, "D.B. was my first case."

"Jenkins still around?"

"Yeah, same gas station too. Just a couple miles down the road. What makes you think the Fox River boys know where the money is?"

"Because they were locked up with the real D.B. Cooper," replied Jack, standing behind Alex and leaning against the doorframe.

"Precisely," said Alex, giving Jack a nod of approval and just a hint of a smile, "Now, let's go say hi to Mr. Jenkins.

Alex and Jack pulled up in front of an old, run-down gas station. They got out of the SUV and walked confidently into the garage. Alex saw a man working under the hood of a car. He nudged Jack, who was studying the layout of the garage, and nodded in the man's direction. As they approached him, Alex pulled out his badge.

"Mr. Jenkins?" he asked.

The man stuck his head out from under the hood and glanced at Alex.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Agent Mahone," he replied, flashing his badge.

"Agent Harper, FBI," added Jack as she also flashed her badge.

The man's eyes flew open wide in panic.

"I'm stayin' fifty feet away from her at all times!" he cried, voice cracking slightly, "What else does she want?"

Alex and Jack exchanged an amused glance.

"We're not here about that," said Alex, with a coy smile.

"Then why are you here?" demanded Jenkins.

"D.B. Cooper," replied Jack.

"Isn't that case getting a little old?"

"Were you the gas attendant that served Cooper?"

"Yeah, why?"

"There were some discrepancies with your statement," continued Jack.

"On the report it says that he filled up at seven a.m." said Alex, "But you said that it was seven p.m. Which is it?"

"Both."

"He gassed up twice?" asked Alex, incredulously.

"Yeah."

"Full tanks? Both times?" asked Jack, equally confused.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, Alex's eyes lit up with understanding. Jenkins saw the look on Alex's face and became concerned.

"What?"

"Nothing. Thank you Mr. Jenkins. You've given us exactly what we need."