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

“You’re up early,” Susan said from the bathroom when she heard me stirring. “I thought you’d at least sleep until six-thirty and rush out of here for the autopsy.”

Still half asleep, I rubbed my face and rolled to a seated position on the bed, trying to remember where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. I remembered sitting in my Tahoe on Orange Way until about midnight, when Baylor showed up and offered to watch for Ty. After going home from his shift for several hours, he had decided to drive by the house to see if anything was moving.

“I’m off tomorrow and Tuesday,” he had offered, “so it’s no problem.”

Our patrol officers worked twelve-hour shifts, so when they worked a Friday-Saturday-Sunday rotation, they were off for two days, came back for two days, and then had the following weekend off.

“What about Amy?” I had asked. “What if she needs you?”

“You know Amy.” He had flashed a wide grin. “Does she ever need anyone?”

After leaving Baylor, I had driven to the police department and arranged to have the sheriff’s office send out a BOLO for all of their deputies to be on the look-out for Ty, and then I’d faxed a picture of Ty to the local newspapers and radio stations, asking that they publish the information to the public requesting their help in locating him. I’d labeled him Missing and Possibly Endangered, hoping that might prompt the community to take the search for him more seriously.

Once those things were done, I had cruised around town for two more hours looking for Ty. I had even driven to Otter’s Tail Campground north of town and searched all the trails, tent pads, and camping hookups. The last time I’d heard from Ty, he had been wandering around the campground talking to an imaginary person, so I thought there was a real possibility I’d find him out there. Unfortunately, the campground was empty.

It was after leaving the campground and returning to Mechant Loup that I had run into Takecia Gayle at Cig’s Gas Station, which was located north of town and just south of the Mechant Loup Bridge..

Takecia was one of Susan’s patrol officers and also her former training partner from back when Susan was a cage fighter. Originally on the day shift, Takecia had begun working nights when Amy transferred to the detective bureau.

“What are you doing crawling around at night, Clint?” she had asked in her thick Jamaican accent when I’d pulled up beside her at the fuel pump and buzzed down my window. Her parents were from Jamaica and, although this was the only country she had ever called home, she had picked up their colorful accent. “Still looking for that rascal, Ty?”

I had told her I was and she had scowled.

“You need to get home to your beautiful bride,” she’d said. “I’ll keep a look out for Ty. I saw Baylor at the house earlier. Between him and me, we’ll look out for him. You need some rest.”

“Do I look that bad?”

She had grinned—exposing a row of perfect teeth—and said, “I will not incriminate myself, Detective Wolf.”

Shortly thereafter, I had driven home and showered for bed. I remembered Susan stirring when I had slipped under the covers beside her, but if we talked, I couldn’t remember what was said.

Now, I remembered that I had to attend Carol Richardson’s autopsy and then drive some evidence to the crime lab first thing this morning. This revelation brought me wide awake.

I tromped to the bathroom, rubbed Susan’s rump as I walked by, and began brushing my teeth. She patted me back and told me we could have a conversation if I didn’t have to leave in such a hurry. I groaned, staring at her with tortured eyes, my mouth full of toothpaste foam.

When I spat and rinsed, I said, “We can make it quick.”

She gave me a mischievous grin. “When are we ever quick?”

I groaned again. After hurrying into some green slacks and a tan Polo shirt that had the department badge embroidered on the left breast and my name on the right side, I sat on a bench in the room and pulled on my boots.

Susan was already dressed in her uniform, but she hadn’t put on her gun belt yet. I slipped my Blackhawk holster into my pants, secured my Beretta 9 mm inside, and followed my beautiful wife down the stairs.

Grace was still sleeping and Susan’s mom was due to arrive at any minute to babysit. Her mom and my mom took turns watching Grace, and that enabled Susan and me to both work the same shift. Were it not for our mothers, we’d have to figure something out—just like most two-income families had to.

Achilles and Coco sprang from a corner of the living room and raced to meet us when we reached the landing. After greeting them, we prepared breakfast and I ate mine in a hurry. Before long, I was out the door and heading for the coroner’s office. I called Baylor as I turned onto Main Street and headed north.

“Nothing, eh?”

“Nope. Not a peep.”

“Thanks,” I said gratefully. “I’ll ask Regan to make extra passes down the street throughout her shift today.”

Regan Steed was Susan’s newest patrol officer. A long-time friend of Amy’s, she had moved here from Tellico Plains, Tennessee when her husband got transferred to our area for work.

When I ended the call with Baylor, I contacted Regan and explained everything that had happened thus far. She said she’d keep an eye out for Ty and she also asked about Amy. After telling her what I knew, we ended the call and I raced to the coroner’s office.

As I would’ve guessed, Dr. Louise Wong was there early and she was about to make