Here is a brief list of people who don't own Chuck: ex-baseball player Barry Bonds, Danny Bonaduce, former President Warren G. Harding, and me.

Chapter 6

As I walked back into the apartment, I found Lester and Jeff both standing in the living room. With them was another guy I recognized from the Buy More. He was young, straight out of college, one of the new hires brought in right before I had left. He was wearing an oversized USC sweatshirt and jeans, and he was rubbing his hand in his slightly greasy black hair, knocking aside his glasses in the process. I nodded to him briefly.

"Hey Morgan. You've met Steve, right?" Lester said to me.

"Sure man, from back at the Buy More."

"Well Steve here is going to be our newest member of Jeffster."

"No kidding."

"He was just telling us about his musical experience from back in high school."

"Um, yeah. It was mainly in the marching band. I played the French horn."

"See, Jeff, I was just saying the other day how much we needed the sound of a French horn in the band."

I don't exactly consider myself an expert in music, but I was pretty sure that was actually what Jeffster did not need.

"Man, we are going to rock!" Jeff added, slapping Steve on the back. Steve winced.

"But you know what we're going to need when we really hit the big time?" Lester asked. "We're going to need to make music videos. Now I've already got the artistic vision, you know, with shots of nature, us dressed as ninjas, possibly a giant robot to show the dehumanization of man…"

"Bikini-clad ladies," Jeff added.

"Absolutely. But to do this, we need a cinematographer too. Steve, you've got a video camera, right?"

I sat down at the kitchen table. This might actually be worth watching.

"Um, yeah, I got one with my Buy More discount last year."

"Perfect! See I knew we made the right choice. So Steve, do you think you have any of you past work you could show us?"

"Uh, I didn't really bring anything with me…"

"Oh, that's too bad. It would really help for us to get an idea of your visual style." Lester snapped his finger. "Wait, I've got a better idea. How about we show you something that will give you an idea of what we have in mind!"

Lester motioned to Jeff, who carried the laptop to the coffee table, flipped it open, and punched a couple of keys. The grainy DVD image appeared on screen. Steve looked around uncomfortably.

"I love the use of the hand on screen. It really contrasts with the black screen. Almost Bergmanesque, I'd say. Oh, and the ring on the hand? Pure genius!"

Jeff pointed to Steve. "Hey, is that a class ring on your hand? It looks exactly like the one on screen!"

Steve looked around at Lester and Jeff, who were now huddled over him. He turned around to try to get away, but Jeff pressed a hand on his shoulder, and pressed him back down on the couch. In his other hand, Jeff held a table lamp, which he turned on and shined in Steve's face.

"Hey!"

"Well Steve, I think you'd better start talking. Tell us why you killed Emmitt."

"Killed Emmitt! What are you talking about?"

"We found that DVD in Emmitt's office. Explain that!"

"Well, yeah, he asked me to make those recordings." Steve looked around, seeing three sets of eyes staring at him, and gulped. "He came up to me right after I started. Said he had a side project he wanted me for. He gave me twenty bucks to sneak into a theatre and record a movie. After the first one, he'd keep asking me to do more and more."

I walked up to Steve. "Do you know who he was selling them to?"

"I'm not sure. He'd meet somebody at the docks, I think. I believe he once said that his first buyer flaked out and disappeared, so he had to find somebody else. That's all I know, I swear?" He looked back at Lester. "So am I still in the band?"

Lester nodded to me and Jeff, and we huddled in the hallway. "So what do we do with him? Give him to the police?"

I knew my life would be easier with more suspects around me. Still, Steve didn't seem like a killer to me, just a scared kid, so I couldn't just throw him to the wolves. "Actually, I think he can help me out."

I have to admit, my relatively small stature comes in handy some times. Still, spending time in the trunk of a 1997 Ford Taurus is not something I recommend. Thankfully, once he'd safely driven past the police car stationed outside the parking lot, Steve stopped, and let me out. "Ok, we're safe," he eyed me warily.

I climbed in to the car and sat in the front passenger seat. Steve wasn't thrilled about this. "Hey, I didn't kill Emmitt any more than you did, but I have to do some things that I'd rather not have my cop buddies around for." Steve didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded. "Still, I need a little more help from you."

"And then will Lester and Jeff leave me alone?"

"I'll put in a good word for you, but those two follow their own code."

Steve sighed. "Alright, what do you need?"

"I need a ride to Glendale."

A half hour later, we were parked across the street from the building. Steve was seated in the driver's seat, looking nervous and slightly confused. I was carefully watching the door to the building.

"So now what?"

"Now we wait."

"So is this about Emmitt? Are you trying to find out who killed him? Cause I swear I don't know anything else." I just shrugged.

"It's hard to believe somebody would kill Emmitt." I glanced at him. "Ok, maybe not that hard to believe. But jeez, to have somebody you work with every day die like that!"

"You have no idea."

We sat in Steve's car for two hours. Steve spent his time texting, playing with the radio, and occasionally attempting to start a conversation. I spent my time watching the building through a pair of binoculars I'd found by a window in Lester's apartment, and avoiding Steve's attempts to start a conversation.

At about noon, Steve moaned, "Can't we at least get something to eat? I'm starving."

I briefly looked away from the binoculars. "Yeah, why not? There's a deli over there. Grab me a pastrami on rye and a grape soda." I handed him a twenty. Steve hurried out and ran across the street.

I had to admit, I was starting to feel hungry too, not to mention frustrated at not finding anything. Pretty soon, I'd have to admit defeat.

I immediately changed my mind when I saw the man that passed by Steve as he entered the building.

I watched Bryce head into the parking lot, and hop into a Mustang. After a moment's hesitation, I crawled over to the driver's side, and put the car in drive. I felt bad about leaving Steve, especially since his leaving the keys in the car clearly showed he was no criminal mastermind. I'd left him enough money for a bus ride home, though, and I couldn't miss this opportunity.

I followed two car lengths behind Bryce. I occasionally let another car slip between us, in an attempt to not appear too obvious. Fortunately, the Mustang was unusual enough that it was easy to follow. Eventually, we headed out of the city, and headed south.

I continued following him as we headed down the highway. I wasn't sure if where he was headed would help me find Chuck, but I could still feel my pulse racing as I followed him. Fortunately, I'd seen enough movies to know how to tail someone.

About twenty minutes later, Bryce veered off the highway, and we were soon driving down a residential street. I saw the Mustang turn into a driveway up ahead. I passed by the house, and eventually parked on a cul-de-sac a block away.

I left Steve's car, and walked down the sidewalk towards the Mustang. As I reached the house, I noticed the name "Parker" on the mailbox. If this was Bryce's house, then I guess he wouldn't be able to use his old name. The house was a fairly small split-level, with a small well-kept yard in front. The place gave off an air of happy domesticity, and felt like the kind of place I had once fleetingly imagined Anna and I living. I shook my head, reminding myself of why I was there.

I noticed a window off to the side, and I walked around to peek in. Fortunately, the blinds were open, so I could get a decent glimpse of the inside of the house. I saw Bryce talking to another man, who had his backed turned to me. They appeared to be arguing about something. After a moment, the other man stepped away. I saw Bryce walking towards the window, and I quickly ducked down.

"Geez, that was…" I hadn't heard the footsteps behind me, so I never expected the blow coming to the back of my head.