Fast Cars (Working Title)

Chapter 34

Donovan rubbed his eyes, wishing the day was over already.

"Donovan! What do you have?"

His head snapped around. "Not much, Sam. Just finished looking over all the pictures. This one bugs me. There's just something, I'm not sure what yet"

"Keep on it."

Don nodded and flipped open the binder of witness statements. "Why can't we have boring Friday nights that turn into lazy Saturday mornings?"

Charlie laughed. "I missed you, pal. Did you see the tires on that car? Impressive."

"That's it!" Don slammed the file closed and picked up the pictures again. "The tires on the car don't match the prints on the guy's shirt."

"What?"

"Look. The pictures. The prints don't match up."

Charlie pushed the pictures away. "Bodies move. You know that."

"No. Look! The tread on those tires couldn't have made those prints. They're entirely different."

Charlie ripped the pictures out of his hand and studied them for a moment. "Sam! Start looking for another car!"

"What? You've gotta be kidding."

"Nope. Donovan found it." Charlie pointed out the discrepancy in the pictures.

"Find out everything you can on those tires. Size, manufacturer, everything. Glad to have you back, Don."

Don grinned, feeling useful for the first time since he'd found out he'd be in a wheelchair indefinitely.

"Donovan, you have a visitor," Ruth called from across the room.

Don looked up, confusion clouding his mind for a moment before his eyes widened and he cursed. "Crap. I forgot. Charlie, can you clear the conference room?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Maisy's here."

"Don, what about the order?"

Don shrugged. "The lawyers agreed. It's for a visitation."

"They agreed to it?"

"Just this one. We'll figure out a better schedule later on. Can you clear the conference room?"

"You got it."

Don stretched his back and stood. He leaned heavily on the cane and used the desks for support while he walked the length of the room. He smiled as Maisy came into view amid the sea of uniforms.

A fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling. He grunted as his hips collided with the nearest desk. Paperwork scattered across the floor beneath him. Don lay on the floor, shaking his head as a wave of feet surged over him. A yelling match hammered through his mind between bursts of stars. He groaned and blinked several times before his head started to clear.

Nate Robertson jeered at him from over the edge of the desk. Don shut his eyes as a stream of spit hit his face.

Don shook his head and struggled to sit.

"Hold still, Don. We need to make sure you didn't reinjure your back."

"My back is fine." He held out a hand for Charlie to help him up. Then heaved a sigh as he stood and regained his balance. He looked over at Nate who was being handcuffed then at Maisy's horrified expression.

"Let him go."

"What? We can't."

"I probably deserved that. Let him go."