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

I’m going to arrest you for murder and you’re going to spend the rest of your miserable life in prison.”

“But I didn’t murder anyone!”

“Well, you’re lying about going in the shed, so I’ve got to believe you’re lying about murdering Mrs. Richardson.”

Logan started to hyperventilate.

“Cut it out,” I said. “I ain’t falling for that foolishness. In fact, get up! You’re going to prison.” I stood and waved for him to get to his feet.

“Please, don’t!” Tears mixed with sweat as he began crying hysterically. He leaned back and lifted his hands. “Please don’t! I’ve never hurt anyone in my life!”

“Then you’d better tell me why you went in that shed,” I said. “If you didn’t go there to kill Mrs. Richardson, then you’d better start talking. I can put you in that shed and I can only think of one reason why you would lie about being there.”

“I swear I didn’t hurt her!” He continued bawling. “She was already on the ground!”

He was crying so much that I barely understood what he said. I glanced at Susan and she nodded.

“Say that again,” I said, walking around the table.

“She was already on the ground when I went in the shed,” he wailed. “She was already dead!”

“And I’m supposed to believe you now?” I asked with a chuckle. “You’ve been lying to me since Sunday, and I’m supposed to believe you suddenly decided to come to Jesus and start telling the truth?”

“I swear on my babies!”

That pissed me off. “Don’t you dare bring those innocent babies into your mess!”

While I had been assertive in my questioning, I had left all emotions out of the process. He heard the change in my tone and sucked in a mouthful of air. He nodded hurriedly.

“I…I’m sorry. I won’t say that again.”

I turned and walked out of the room. When I returned, I had a box of tissues and a bottle of water. I placed both items on the table in front of Logan. I then returned to my chair and took a seat.

“Okay, Logan,” I said calmly. “Dry your eyes and tell me why you went into that shed.”

  CHAPTER 33

It took Logan about ten minutes to stop trembling enough to speak coherently. The tears still flowed like open faucets, but he was starting to regain control of his voice.

“I, um, I heard some noise outside my house Saturday night.” He dabbed at his leaky nose. “It woke me up again and—I admit it—I got mad. I have a stressful job. I need my sleep. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been waking up to hear Ty screaming in the neighborhood. Once I’m awake, I start worrying that he might do something crazy—like burn my house down—and I can’t go back to sleep. I toss and turn and then, before I know it, my alarm is going off and it’s time to get dressed for work.”

“And this has been going on for a couple of weeks?” I asked.

“Yeah, thereabouts. I’ve talked to some of the neighbors about it. They hear it, too, but no one wants to call the cops because they all like Mrs. Carol. I finally told my landlord that I’d had enough and that I was going to call the law, but he told me I’d better not. He said if I did that, he’d kick me and my family to the curb. I don’t see how he can do that to us. It’s my peace that’s being disturbed, so how can he threaten me and tell me I don’t have the right to call the cops?”

I only nodded and kept listening.

“I’ve been getting so tired lately that I’ve been messing up at work,” he continued. “I even dozed off in the employee lounge the other day and someone told my boss. He called me in and warned me that the new company is looking for any excuse to fire the current employees so they could bring in new blood. He said the only reason they didn’t fire everyone was because the old owners made the buyers agree to keep everyone who successfully completed the hiring process. I don’t want to lose my job. It’s hard to concentrate when you can’t get enough sleep, and Ty has been making me miserable.”

He paused and snatched another pile of tissue from the box and wiped his face. When he removed his hands from his face, I winced. Pieces of white fuzz from the tissue had stuck to his moustache. It grossed me out, so I pointed to it.

“You’ve got stuff on your caterpillar,” I said. “You need to wipe it off.”

He stared at me in confusion.

“Your moustache,” Susan said. “He means your moustache. You’ve got white fuzz all over your moustache.”

He quickly rubbed his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought I could feel something dangling.”

“Get back to what happened Saturday night,” I said. “Before you got sidetracked, you were telling us you couldn’t sleep and you got mad.”

“Well, I was just so tired that I…um, I kind of blacked out.” He nodded as if to reassure himself. “Yeah, I black out sometimes when I get mad, and I was mad and tired and not thinking straight, so I just blacked out. I don’t remember what happened next.”

“That’s great.” I was done wasting my time, so I stood. “Let’s go to prison.”

He gasped in horror. “Prison? For what? I’m being honest.”

“You’re going to prison for murdering Mrs. Richardson.”

“But I didn’t murder her!” he protested. “I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“How do you know?” I pressed. “You blacked out. There was no one there but you, Mrs. Richardson, and probably Ty. Mrs. Richardson’s dead and Ty is missing, so they’re not talking. That only leaves you, but you blacked out, so you can’t say you didn’t