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

a lift kit and thirty-five-inch tires—she would’ve had to reach up to hand us the food and drinks, so Susan and I dismounted and joined her between the two vehicles. She reached in the back seat and came out with two paper bowls wrapped in aluminum foil.

Susan nearly took Regan’s hand off when she snatched up her bowl of food. We all laughed. Regan also handed out plastic utensils and two cans of soda.

“I’ll leave so I don’t blow your cover,” Regan said, glancing at the target location. “Maybe I should’ve brought an unmarked car.”

Susan’s mouth was already full, so I answered. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll expect us to be in this area.”

“How’s the search coming?” Susan asked when she’d swallowed what must’ve been her third bite.

“About like this…” Regan indicated her green BDUs. They were covered in dust and her boots were muddy. There were dark smudges across her porcelain face and even pieces of dried tree foliage stuck to her brown hair. “We’ve covered a lot of ground, but found nothing yet.”

I scowled, wondering if Nikia had been mistaken. I had been dutifully making my way toward the bottom of my bowl when I heard a vehicle approaching from the front of the street. I looked up and saw the truck.

“It’s him!” I said quickly. “Let’s look relaxed.”

“Does he know there was a hit on his prints?” Susan asked, wiping her mouth and placing the empty bowl and can on the back floorboard of my truck.

“No,” I said. “We got with his company and they agreed to send him for a drug screening—it’s the next step in the hiring process—and tell him he could have the rest of the day off.”

Regan glanced from Susan to me. “Want me to hang around?”

I nodded. “You can transport him to the police department.”

I had barely placed the half-eaten bowl of jambalaya on the floorboard of my truck when my suspect parked his truck under his carport. I quickly crossed the street, with Susan and Regan hot on my heels, but fanning out to the left and right.

“Hey, man,” I called just as he had stepped out of his truck. “How’s it going?”

Startled, Logan Pitre jerked his head around. He instinctively hit the lock button on the inside of his door and slammed it shut. He stared suspiciously from me to Susan to Regan and then back to me. “What’s this about?”

“I need you to come down to the police department,” I said. “I’ve got more questions about Saturday night.”

“I told you everything I know.” While his voice was steady, his face had paled slightly. “I’m just getting home. I’ve got the rest of the day off and I’d like to spend it with my family.”

“It won’t take long.”

“But we made plans to go out and eat,” he pressed. “I’m already running late.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” I stepped closer and indicated Regan. “You’re gonna get in Officer Steed’s car and she’s gonna take you to the police department.”

“Wait, I can’t drive myself there?” he asked, visibly shaken now. “What’s going on? Am I being accused of something?”

“Should I accuse you of something?” I asked pointedly.

He stammered for a few seconds. “I mean, am I under arrest?”

“No,” I said calmly—leaving out the fact that I could apply for an arrest warrant if I so chose. The fact that his fingerprints were found at a death scene to which he had no legal access was problematic for him. However, I didn’t want to mention the fingerprints yet. “I just have some questions for you. You’re not under arrest.”

“Why can’t I drive my own truck?” He swallowed hard. “If I’m not under arrest, why do I have to get in the back of a police car?”

“First off, you don’t have to sit in the back seat,” I said soothingly. “Secondly, you locked your keys in the truck and we don’t have time to unlock it for you.”

Logan jerked around and pulled on the door handle. “Shit!”

“It’s okay. We all do it from time to time.” I smiled. “Why don’t you just ride with Officer Sneed? When we’re done, I’ll bring you back and unlock your truck myself.”

He sighed. “Can I let my wife know what’s going on?”

“Sure.” I shot Susan a telling glance and she casually sauntered farther to the right, where she could see inside the trailer when he opened the door. We all waited as he opened the house door and leaned inside. He said something we couldn’t hear, and there was more discussion we couldn’t hear. He told Joselyn to make sure and lock the door, and then he turned away from the trailer.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said, and followed me across the street. Before getting into Regan’s car, he looked at me one last time. “And I’m not under arrest?”

“No.”

“Because I could lose my job if I got arrested.”

“You’re not under arrest,” I said again. “And if you’re honest with me, there should be no problems.”

“I was honest with you the last time.”

This wasn’t the time or place to confront him, so I only nodded and told him how much I appreciated his honesty. “As long as you continue to be truthful, this’ll be quick and you’ll be able to get back to your normal life sooner.”

I wasn’t lying when I told him he’d be able to get back to his normal life sooner. The sooner he confessed to shoving Mrs. Richardson, the sooner I could book him, a bond could be set, and he could be bailed out of jail. If he wasted my time with lies, the interview process would be longer, and it would take longer for him to get back to his normal life.

  CHAPTER 32

Logan Pitre’s eyes were naturally squinty, but they were mere slits as he