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

no kid paint stuff—this is permanent ink. This is for real. You gotta be a real man to dab some ink on the face.”

I nodded and closed the door behind me. I noticed Neal still wore his designer jeans baggy and his shirts too tight. His head was freshly shaven, but he still had a thin moustache and a thick puff of hair on his chin like he did when I’d last seen him years ago. His thin-rimmed glasses were crooked on his face, but he could do nothing about it because his hands were cuffed behind his back.

I waved for him to stand. He complied and I turned him so I could remove his cuffs. He nodded gratefully and began rubbing his wrists as he returned to his seat.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

I took the seat opposite him and studied the young man before me. He had a bad rap sheet, but that didn’t mean he had killed Ty’s mom or was responsible for Ty’s disappearance. The fact that Ty was still missing was a problem. He could very well have killed his own mom, which would mean I was wasting my time going after J-Rock and Neal. It would also mean that J-Rock drowned for nothing.

“So, I understand you’re being revoked,” I began, wanting to get him talking about things I already knew the answers to. “How many years are you backing up?”

“Ten.”

“Wow, that’s a stretch.”

“Yeah, but I ain’t doing all that.” He smirked. “They’re gonna let me out like they did the last time. We’ve got a governor who’s on our side now.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep, it is.”

“So, when’s the last time you spoke to J-Rock?”

“J-Rock?” He shifted the glasses on his face. “I haven’t seen him since he went to jail again back—what was it?—five or six years ago, I think.”

“You haven’t seen him since he got released?”

“No, and I doubt I would even talk to him.” He snapped his fingers suddenly. “But, I did hear about his murder.”

“For someone who hasn’t talked to him in five or six years, you sure keep up with his latest breaking news.” I lifted a hand. “He died earlier today, and you already know about it? It didn’t even make the news cycle.”

“Nah, I heard about it through a friend. They sent me a video showing what happened.” He lowered his head, but kept his eyes on me. “You were in that video. They’re saying you killed him.”

Other than Rhonda Sylvester’s statement regarding what J-Rock supposedly told her about Neal, I had no evidence to prove Neal was involved in the drug trade with J-Rock.

“What if I told you I was sent a video, too?” I asked with a sly nod of the head. “And what if that video depicted you meeting with J-Rock?”

He scoffed. “Whatever, dude. There’s no such video.”

I decided to see if I could get him to slip up and correct me. “Yeah, there might’ve been a blue, plastic satchel in that video—a plastic satchel with crystal meth inside that went from you to J-Rock.”

“Um…yeah, whatever,” he said with a laugh. “I never had a blue plastic satchel in my life.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “It’s a leather satchel and it’s got your DNA all over it.”

Neal uttered a nervous laugh and gave a dismissive wave.

“Ask yourself one question,” I said slowly, “and it’s not if you feel lucky—it’s where in the hell could my leather satchel be? Could the police have it? Could they have sent it off to the crime lab for fingerprinting and DNA analysis?”

Neal was no poker player. His face turned a dry gray color and he shifted in his chair.

“Where’s your satchel, Neal?” I asked, resting my elbows on the table and leaning closer. “Why didn’t J-Rock give it back to you?”

“Look, I don’t know anything about a satchel. I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s the leather bag that you gave J-Rock.” I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest. “Why was your leather satchel found at a crime scene where a woman was murdered?”

“Hey, I didn’t murder no woman!” His head wagged from side to side. “I swear to you, I never touched no woman—not now and not ever.”

“Neal, J-Rock didn’t return your satchel, so you confronted him and demanded to know where it was, didn’t you? He told you that a fellow by the name of Ty Richardson had it.” I rapped my knuckles on the desk. “And you went after Ty to make him pay for stealing your drugs.”

“No! I…I…never went to his house.” He scowled. “How do you know about that?”

I stifled a grin. I had him right where I wanted him.

“I know a lot of things, Neal, and I know you’d better start talking unless you want to turn those ten years into fifty.” I stabbed the table with an index finger. “Tell me exactly what happened between you, J-Rock, and Ty.”

“I don’t know anything about no guy named Ty.” He shook his head. “You’ve got to believe me. And if he ended up with my bag—I mean, with J-Rock’s bag—then I have no idea how that happened.”

“Not good enough.” I stood and turned to walk away. “If you let me walk out of this door without telling me the truth, you won’t like what’s going to happen to you when the prison sentences are handed out.”

“But I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He clasped his hands together. “Please, you’ve got to believe me.”

I hesitated. “I might believe you about the murder if you tell me the truth about the drugs.”

He sucked in a mouthful of air and then let out a long sigh. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your drug arrangement with J-Rock.”

“Look, it was nothing, really,”