I don't own Chuck. If I did, NBC would be hearing it from me right now.

Chapter 7

"How could you have led him here?"

I carefully suppressed a groan. I could feel the ache in the back of my head, but I figured I needed to hear as much as I can. I couldn't seem to move anyway, from what I could tell.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea to meet here instead of headquarters!" I thought I recognized Bryce's voice.

"Didn't you even check to see you weren't followed? You guys must get some terrific training, if even an idiot like this can tail you!" Something about the way the man pronounced the word 'idiot' sounded familiar.

"Hey, lay off! And need I remind you that if it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in this position in the first place. And besides, I know this guy. He's harmless."

"Maybe. But if he can find you, then Fulcrum can to!"

'What's Fulcrum?" My curiosity finally got the better of me, and I mumbled the question. I struggled to open my eyes, feeling the strain of the light hitting me. Bryce came into view first, his face a mixture of frustration, curiosity and concern. Then I managed to get a look at the other man.

"Oh crap!" The voice had been familiar.

"Well Casey," Bryce chuckled, "I think he knows you, too!"

When he worked at the Buy More, John Casey scared the heck out of me. That was while wearing the store's green polo. Without it, he seemed about ten times as frightening. Casey's permanent scowl was now surrounded by a goatee, and he was dressed all in black, with a short-sleeved shirt revealing the arms that seemed to be anxious to throttle me right now.

I looked down briefly. I was seated in a lounge chair, which would probably be quite comfortable if one didn't have his wrists and ankles bound to it. Otherwise, the room was pleasant, with an overstuffed sofa, coffee table, and plants scattered about the room. "Nice place," I muttered.

"Grimes." The name came out of Casey's mouth like the sputtering of a broken-down engine. "How about you tell us what you're doing here?"

I turned to Bryce. At least his grey suit made him seem slightly friendlier than Casey. He rejected my unspoken appeal, shaking his head. "I'd answer him if I were you."

"Well, I just stopped by to invite you to a little Buy More reunion we're having next week. It's going to be a real rager too. You know you're a hard guy to…"

"Stop." Casey held his palm up, looking like a grouchy traffic cop. "I was actually worried I wouldn't get to torture anybody today." I gulped.

"Casey…"

"Oh shut up, Larkin! Need I remind you again that it was your incompetence that led him here to my house."

"This is your house?" I looked around. "You know, I'd never guess."

"Grimes. When we were 'working' together, I didn't like you. Now that we're out of your little Nerdland and in my world, I've realized that I really don't like you. Do you know what I do to people I really don't like?"

"There are people that you do like?" I saw Bryce wince after I said this.

A growl slowly worked its way out of Casey's throat. "I am really going to enjoy this."

"Casey! He's his best friend. You can't do it!"

Casey sighed, and his shoulders slumped slightly. "Fine." He turned back to me. "But you'd better start talking. How did you get here?"

"I followed him from that building in Glendale." As I pointed at Bryce, my thoughts returned to what he had just said before. "Do you know something about Chuck?"

"How did you find that building, Grimes?" Casey moved in front of Bryce.

"The Orange Orange. I tracked the people that owned it over there."

Bryce and Casey looked at each other. "Not bad," Casey said grudgingly. "But if this numbskull can put it together, then…"

"Morgan," Bryce interrupted Casey. "Why did you come here?"

"I want to find out what happened to Chuck."

"Chuck's dead."

"Yeah well, dead doesn't seem to mean what it used to," I looked at Bryce. "And now I find you two together. A corpse and the world's angriest electronics salesman."

"Oh, you haven't seen me angry yet."

"But what's all this secrecy about? Did one of you kill Emmitt?"

As soon as I asked the question, Casey turned sharply towards me. "Emmitt is dead?" He no longer appeared angry, and almost seemed frightened.

"How did Emmitt die, Grimes?"

"Somebody killed him. Hit him over the head at the docks in Burbank. Geez, I didn't think you were close, Casey."

This did little to reassure Casey, as he grabbed a phone out of his pocket, and marched out of the room. I looked over at Bryce. "So uh, Bryce, what's up?"

"You really shouldn't have come here, Morgan."

"I just need you to tell me. Is Chuck alive?"

Bryce sighed. "I'm sorry, Morgan."

I looked down. "I just thought that…"

I was interrupted as Casey walked back into the room. "We've got a problem." He grabbed a remote off of the couch, and turned on the room's television. I turned to watch it, and saw my own face staring back at me on screen.

"…manhunt for this man, wanted for questioning in connection for the murder of Emmitt Milbarge, 38, who was found dead by the Burbank pier two nights ago. If anyone sees this man, you are asked to call the police tip line, and do not approach him, because he is considered armed and dangerous."

I heard Casey chuckle behind me after that last statement. I just stared at the TV. They'd used the picture from my old Buy More ID, which wasn't exactly my most photogenic moment. Filling the screen and in black and white, it almost made me look intimidating. Normally, I might be proud of that, but this was a special circumstance.

"This can't be happening, I didn't do it!"

"Why do they suspect you? Were you seen with him recently, or do anything to raise suspicion?" Bryce asked.

"No! They know I had a fight with Emmitt once, and they've used it as a reason to keep a watch on me and follow me around."

"Oh wonderful, so they know you're here?"

"No, of course not. I snuck out this time."

"What do you mean, this time?" Casey pronounced that question very slowly.

"Well yesterday, when I found your building, they kind of… found me."

"Well this just keeps getting better and better. If they know about the building, they've connected you to us!" Casey turned around stomped about the room, muttering to himself. "Why am I cursed to be surrounded by idiot nerds?"

"Casey, relax. We just have to get him out of here."

"We can turn him in. That would solve our problems."

"Um, but why would I be here? You'd have to explain that."

"I don't know. Maybe you followed Larkin after some lover's spat."

"Not funny, Casey."

"Look, when they come for me, I could just tell the police that you're living here under some assumed name. I think they might be interested that Mr. Parker has a fake name."

"Are you really threatening me, Grimes? Are you sure that's wise? Because we're in my house, so I can protect myself against intruders. The cops aren't picky. They'll take a dead suspect just as happily as an alive one."

"C'mon Casey, you know we can't do that."

"Fine. But since you brought him here, you get rid of him."

"That guy does not like me."

Casey had stormed off again, leaving a trail of muttered curses behind him. Bryce had pulled out a pocket knife, and for a moment I thought he was going to follow Casey's suggestion, and make a dead suspect out of me. Instead, he cut through the rope tying my arms and legs to the chair.

"Well, he's gruff with about everybody. But you seem to be able to get under his skin like almost nobody else can. I've only seen one other person be able to do that."

"His mother?"

"Chuck." I was a bit surprised. I'd seen Casey and Chuck hang out together on occasion, which I'd never understood, but I assumed they had developed some sort of weird bond. I couldn't imagine why they would spend time together if Chuck annoyed Casey so much.

"Casey kind of feels responsible for what happened to him. He's taken everything a bit hard. And you pressing him like that didn't help, you know." He finished untying me, and I got to my feet.

"Why would Casey feel responsible about what happened to Chuck?"

"Come on, Morgan, we have to get you out of here." Bryce opened the door, and we headed out the door and into his Mustang.

"Where are we going?"

Bryce ignored me as he started the engine. Apparently, there wouldn't be any more time for sharing. But I wasn't going to give up. Clearly, Bryce was hiding a few things, and I had a car ride ahead of me to find out the truth.