But Not For Lust by BJ Bourg (comprehension books .txt) 📕

“Carol Richardson made a pizza delivery order last night and paid for it with a credit card over the phone,” she had said. “I spoke to the girl who delivered the pizza, and she said she was told to leave it on the steps to the camper and knock twice.”

“Who told her to do that?” I’d asked.

“Carol relayed it when she made the order,” Susan explained. “According to the manager, Carol said that the delivery person was not to make contact with Ty. She asked that they put the pizza on the steps, knock on the door twice, and then leave immediately.”

“What time did she order the pizza?”

“The order was made at twelve after eight yesterday evening and it was delivered sixteen minutes later.” Susan had paused for a breath. “I asked the driver if she saw anyone around the camper, but she said she didn’t see a single person during the delivery. She said she did hear Ty moving around inside the camper. She said the movements stopped when she knocked, but she left immediately, so she didn’t know if he said anything or did anything. The last she saw, the pizza was still on the steps and the door to the camper was closed.”

“What about Mrs. Richardson?”

“She didn’t see her or talk to her.”

I had gone back to interviewing neighbors after Susan and I talked, and hadn’t stopped until now. As I had moved from house to house, I had written down the addresses of the places where no one was home and I’d put asterisks next to those house numbers. This would serve as a reminder for me to come back later and speak with these residents.

Just as I reached my Tahoe, I saw headlights turn off of Main Street and onto Orange Way. Hoping it was Logan Pitre, I stood in the driveway and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long.

As soon as the truck reached the driveway across the street, it turned in and the driver shut off the engine. I was making my way across the street as the door opened.

“Logan?” I asked, still a few steps from the driveway. “I’m Clint Wolf. I’m a detective with the police department.”

The man stopped gathering up his belongings from inside the truck and twisted around in his seat, frantically trying to search the darkness to see from where the voice had come.

I waved so he could see me. “I’m a detective with the Mechant Loup Police Department.”

He sighed heavily and sank onto his seat for a moment, the fear evident in his body language.

  CHAPTER 11

“Oh, man, you scared the shit out of me!” Logan Pitre said as he straightened from his truck. He closed the door and simultaneously hit the lock button on the door panel. He shifted the eyeglasses on his nose to see me better. “I didn’t know who you were at first.”

“I’m sorry for startling you.” I handed him a business card, remembering how I was dressed. “Your wife told me you witnessed something involving Ty Richardson on Friday night. I was hoping you could tell me more about it.”

Logan was about an inch taller than my five-ten, but he was a little heavier than me. He had dark hair and brown, squinty eyes, and his gut was working hard to find the ultimate tensile strength of the buttons on his uniform shirt. He turned in the direction of Ty’s camper and shook his head.

“I don’t really know what was going on and it happened so fast.” As he spoke, his fuzzy mustache moved up and down like a caterpillar riding a seesaw. “I listen to audio books on my phone when I drive to and from work. I work on the river. It’s more than an hour one way, so I get to listen to two hours of books each day. Anyway, I was already in bed and something woke me up. I don’t know what it was, but I reached for my cell phone to check the time and I realized I’d forgotten it in my truck.”

Logan stopped long enough to turn and indicate the cup holder phone mount through the window of his truck. It was dark, but thanks to the street lights behind us, I could see his large iPhone resting there.

“We’re forced to keep it locked in our vehicles at work,” he explained, “so I’m always forgetting it in my truck when I get home.”

I nodded, wanting to hurry him along, but I resisted the urge to say anything.

“Um, so I snuck out of bed and I came out here to get it—like I’ve done a million times before—and I heard someone talking from the road.” He indicated the middle of the street that stretched between his house and Ty’s camper. “I looked and saw Ty on his hands and knees. He was staring at the road and talking to himself. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but I heard a word here and there.”

“What kind of words did you hear?”

“Well, he said something about a soldier and caterpillar tracks or something. And he called out his mom’s name—it’s Carol—and he said something about snipers, I think. Yeah, I’m pretty sure he said the word snipers.” Logan shook his head. “I didn’t know what any of it meant. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I opened my door real quiet and grabbed my phone. I eased it closed and it made a loud click. Ty turned to look in my direction, but I don’t think he could see me in the dark. I was scared, so I didn’t move until he looked away.”

“Why were you scared?” I asked with a scowl. “Has Ty ever done anything that made you feel uncomfortable?”

“I mean, he was sitting in the middle of the road talking to himself—isn’t that reason enough to be