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

sat on the opposite side of the interview table from Susan and me. His face was flushed and beads of sweat had broken out on his face. All of this, and I hadn’t even asked him one question yet.

“I don’t understand why I’m here,” he said as he watched me fill out the Miranda Rights form on the desk in front of me.

I didn’t respond. I simply continued filling out the form and then began reciting his rights to him. When I asked if he understood, he answered affirmatively. He did the same when I asked if he was willing to talk to me without a lawyer being present. After he had signed the form and Susan had witnessed it, I affixed my signature and slid it to the side.

“Okay, Logan, please go ahead and tell me everything that happened Friday night,” I said, “beginning with when your sleep was disturbed.”

“Um, you mean about seeing Ty in the road?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, but I already told you everything I knew about it.”

I indicated the camera on the wall in the corner. “We’re on the record this time,” I explained. “So, pretend I know absolutely nothing about what you said before.”

He swallowed and began to recount the events of Friday night. It was almost word-for-word what he had told me Sunday evening when I’d first questioned him. I asked some probing questions, but he didn’t change his story and didn’t remember more than he had already relayed.

“Okay, now I’d like you to tell me about Saturday night,” I said casually, “beginning when you were awakened by the noise from next door.”

He opened his mouth, but then quickly clamped it shut. “But that was Friday night,” he said. “The noise woke me up on Friday night. I remember it clearly, because the next morning was Saturday.”

“You already told us about Friday night,” I said dismissively. “I want to know about Saturday night.”

He stared at me with a blank expression on his face.

“Do you not understand the language I’m speaking?” I asked, leaning forward. “Tell me about how you woke up in the middle of the night on Saturday because of the noise that Ty was making.”

He laughed nervously and glanced quickly at Susan. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Don’t look at me,” Susan said curtly. “Look at the man who’s talking to you.”

“Do I need to repeat the question?”

Logan swallowed. “I…I understand what you’re asking me, but I didn’t hear any noise on Saturday night. It was Friday night that I went out to get my phone from my truck. That’s when I heard Ty talking from the middle of the road—”

“You already said all of that.” I waved a hand. “I’m not interested in Friday night anymore. We’re beyond that. I want to know what happened Saturday night.”

“But I told you, I…I didn’t hear anything Saturday night. I got up to use the bathroom—it might’ve been twice—but I didn’t hear anything when I got up.”

He swallowed again, and it seemed to take some effort. I knew his throat was dry. “I, um, I mean, was there noise at his house Saturday night?”

I threw myself back in my chair. “How in the hell would I know? I wasn’t there.”

He jerked at the suddenness of my movements. He licked his lips, but said nothing.

“Logan…” I leaned forward again, allowing my voice to trail off. I stared in silence for a long moment. He shifted his eyes from his hands to the desk to the ceiling to the walls—he wanted to look anywhere but in my eyes. “Tell me about the noise you heard at Ty’s house on Saturday night or early Sunday morning.”

“I…I didn’t hear any noise Saturday night or Sunday morning.”

“Then what were you doing over there?” I asked in exasperation.

He laughed nervously. “Over where?”

I ignored his question. “Are you telling me there was no noise coming from Ty’s property on Saturday night?”

“No, I swear it.”

“So, if Ty was not making any noise, then why in the hell did you go to his house?” I lifted a hand when Logan started to speak. “And the next words out of your mouth had better be the reason you went over there and not some bullshit about how you never left your house Friday night.”

I intentionally threw Friday in there to see if he was paying attention. He was.

“I did leave my house on Friday night,” he said, the panic evident in his voice now. “I went outside to get my cell phone. That’s when I heard the noise from next door. It was Friday night—not Saturday night.”

“Wait,” I said, lifting a hand. “I’m confused. What night did you go over to Ty’s property and break into his shed?”

Logan recoiled in horror. “What? What are you talking about? I never broke into nobody’s shed!”

“Oh, you didn’t break into Ty’s shed?”

“No!”

“So, I guess you were invited inside then.”

“Huh?”

“How many times have you been inside Ty’s shed?” I asked, holding my pen poised over my notebook like I wanted to record his answer.

“I…I’ve never been inside his shed.”

“My bad,” I said with a grunt. “I’ll rephrase the question. How many times have you been inside Ty’s mom’s shed?”

“Never!” Beads of sweat poured down his face. Even his moustache was quivering at this point. “I’ve never even been on their property.”

I let out a long sigh and leaned back in my chair. I shot a sideways glance at Susan. “This man’s worried about losing his job,” I said with a smirk. “What he should be worried about is becoming somebody’s bitch in prison.”

“Prison?” Logan echoed in a shrill voice. “Why would I be worried about going to prison?”

“That’s where we send people who commit murder, Logan.” I leaned forward again. “I’m done playing with you.