A guy on a street corner said he was selling "Chuck." But it turned out it was just bootleg Season 1 DVDs, so I walked past. Therefore, I still don't own "Chuck."

Chapter 4

I woke up to the sound of a ding in the apartment's kitchen area. I winced as I sat up, feeling the effects of Lester's couch in my back. I stood up and looked around.

Lester was standing in the kitchen, wearing just boxers and a t-shirt. He pulled a breakfast burrito out of the microwave, and squeezed some maple syrup onto it. He looked up as I entered. "Want one?"

"With every fiber of my being, no."

Lester shrugged. "So now what are you going to do now, Columbo?"

It was a good question. Now I not only had Chuck's death to worry about, but Emmett Milbarge's as well. I still had some leads about Chuck to investigate. I wasn't sure if I wanted to look too deeply into Emmett's life, but I felt like I needed to know more, given the possibility that the two deaths might be related. Still, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for me to show up at the Buy More now. So, I was going to need help with that.

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Man, your favors are really piling up. Pretty soon, you're going to owe me your first born. Assuming there's actually going to be one."

I decided to let that pass. He was right, I was asking for a lot of favors. "I know, and I really appreciate it. You do believe me about not killing Emmett, right?"

Lester glanced at me as he finished off his burrito. "Yeah, I suppose you aren't really the murdering type."

"Well, I think his death might be related to Chuck's."

"What, like some Buy More serial killer?"

"No, nothing like that. But I still think there's a connection between Emmett and Chuck. So, is there a chance you could look around Emmett's office, see what you could find?"

"Are you kidding? What if there are cops there?"

"Come on. You used to break into Emmett's office all the time! Remember the time you put crazy glue on his office chair?"

"Well, this is kinda different. What am I even supposed to be looking for?"

"Just anything unusual. Something that suggests why someone would want him killed. And better yet, anything that could link him to Chuck."

"Geez, what about something on the Lindbergh baby or Bigfoot? I'll bet I could find that too."

"Ok, already. Just do your best."

Lester shook his head. "Whatever. Man, I am not getting killed for you. Whatever comes out of this, there had better be some glory for me."

"I'll be sure to bring you up when they make the movie version of my story."

"Fine, but I don't work until 5 today anyway. Jeff is coming over for band practice. We've been trying to update our set list. We could use your take on a couple of Amy Winehouse tunes we've been working on."

It was a tough choice, but ultimately I decided risking the wrath of the police by leaving Burbank was a better option than sitting through Lester and Jeff's rendition of 'Rehab.' Making sure that no police cruisers were in the area, I headed off to the bus depot, and soon was headed to my destination. About a half hour later, I found myself in downtown Glendale. Since I'm not exactly a human GPS, it took me a bit of wandering around to find 129 Blackmoor Avenue.

If I ever wanted to find a more average looking office building, it would be tough. Passing by the brick façade, I entered through the revolving door andheaded down the marble floors. Once inside, I soon found the building directory. The six floors were filled with various dentists, lawyers, and the occasional therapist. Based on my current situation, a lawyer and therapist could both be useful to me, but they would probably be out of my price range. Besides, neither was what I was looking for right now.

At least, I didn't think so. To be honest, I had no idea what I was looking for. All I knew was that somebody in this building owned the land where the Orange Orange stood.

I noticed the guard at the sign-in desk was eyeing me suspiciously. I couldn't see myself getting past him, and I wasn't learning anything just standing there. As I entered I had seen a deli located within the ground floor of the building, so I headed back and ducked inside.

Once I grabbed my sandwich and grape soda, I sat by the entrance so I could see anybody entering the building. I wasn't sure who I was expecting, but I'd come all this way, and it was as good a plan as any.

Unfortunately, my plan was quickly thwarted.

"They must have some really good sandwiches here for you to come all this way."

I looked up to see a woman sitting across from me. Her reddish hair surrounded her face, falling down onto the shoulders of her white, linen shirt. It took me a few seconds to recognize her as Officer Wallace.

"Um, yeah, best in the area."

She looked around. "I doubt it," she said disdainfully. Despite that, she grabbed some of the potato chips off of my plate.

"Most suspects try to go to Mexico when they realize they've been caught. Not many run here. Extradition is a lot easier from Glendale, you know."

"I'm not running."

"Really? Less than a day after we tell you to stay in town, you run off. And then you stop here. Why is that?"

"Well, I'm…running errands."

"Errands? So you take a half-hour bus ride to do laundry?"

"Uh, no. Not exactly." I sighed. I wasn't getting anywhere by being evasive. "I'm looking for someone."

"I see. Is this someone somebody we should be looking for too? Perhaps you could help us out by telling us what you know?"

"I'd love to, but there isn't much to tell. I don't know much of anything."

Wallace chuckled. "I'll bet. Still, even if you don't know anything, you're here looking for something. So what is it?"

Wallace's interrogation technique was a lot different than her partner's. I looked at her, to see if there was any sign that she was trying to trick me or trap me. I didn't see any.

"I think somebody here knows something about Chuck."

"Chuck Bartowski? Your friend that died in the car accident? Is this about all that stuff you had on your wall?"

"I think there was more to it than just an accident. And it has something to do with this place here. And maybe something to do with what happened to Emmitt."

"Care to tell me why you suspect this place?"

"It's complicated. I just know that this is where I'm going to, you know, find the key to everything. Like the one-armed man."

Wallace looked at me for a moment, "So maybe I should be looking around at all the local farmhouses, henhouses, and outhouses?" She cracked a smile. "Grimmeault has a big collection of DVDs he likes to have his partners watch. As research."

"So where is your partner?"

"The police commissioner is giving a press conference about the murder today. Grimmeault wanted to make sure he was there so he could 'accidentally' get in the way of the TV cameras."

"Ah. He must be a lot of fun to work with."

"He's my partner. Yesterday, you asked how I would react if he was killed. Well, to answer your question, I would do everything I could to find who was responsible."

"Well, it's the same for me about Chuck."

Wallace nodded. "Well, I appreciate that. But we can't just have our suspects wandering through all of Southern California. I'm taking you back to Burbank."

I sighed, and got up to follow her. As I headed back into the hallway, someone walking past caught me eye. I glanced back quickly, making sure that Officer Wallace didn't notice.

The ride back to Burbank was a lot more pleasant than the trip out. Officer Wallace was a more interesting conversationalist than the wino I was seated next to on the bus ride out. It turned out she was a bit of a video game aficionado, and had even played Call of Duty a few times. I hadn't really played much lately, since Chuck wasn't around to compete against anymore. Still, it was fun to talk gaming for a while, even if it was with somebody who thought I might be a killer.

After she dropped me off at Lester's apartment, I let myself in with the key he left under the mat. I'd wanted to point out to him that this wasn't a good idea, since any criminal could let themselves in, but I figured he might take it the wrong way.

Apparently, band practice was over, so neither Lester nor Jeff was there. I was relieved about this, because I had some thinking to do.

If I had to be honest with myself, my wildest hope when I went to Glendale was to find Chuck there. All the evidence I had was a mysterious address, but that wasn't enough to dampen my hopes. I'm not even sure what I would have done if I had found him there, as I'd never seen a ghost before.

Well now I had. Just not the one I'd hoped to see.

I'd only met him a couple of times, but the guy who'd ruined your best friend's life tends to stick in your head.

That's why I was sure the guy that had walked by when I was leaving the building with Officer Wallace was Bryce Larkin.

A/N: I hope everybody is sticking with me in all this. My original idea was a bit darker than it has been. I guess you can't write a very dark story when it's narrated by Morgan.

Oh, and please review away!