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

and decaying flesh, it became abundantly clear that he had been mutilated while he was still alive.

I immediately became incensed when I saw what they had done to him. Ty Richardson had suffered a horrible death. His last minutes had been excruciatingly painful. No person should ever have to endure that level of torture. It was the type of activities one would expect from a terrorist. And worst yet, Ty probably couldn’t understand why this was happening to him.

As we processed the scene, a fit of anger began to rise up in me. It was the kind of anger that chilled me to the bone. It terrified me. I didn’t know if I could trust myself to be around Ty’s killers, whoever they might be.

“What kind of scumbag does this?” Susan asked as she stood staring down at the poor man’s body.

I only shook my head and dropped to one knee to begin documenting his injuries. The more I detailed, the hotter the fire burned within me. Susan must’ve recognized that look in my eyes, because she squatted beside me and put a hand on my arm.

“Are you gonna be able to control yourself when we find the suspects?” she asked in a low, motherly voice.

I glanced up and stared right into her big, beautiful brown eyes. “I’m always in control of myself.”

“You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “I guess I need to rephrase my question. Are you gonna kill the person or persons who did this to Ty?”

I dipped my head and went back to jotting down my observations. With crime scenes, one of the first things investigators have to do is bring some sort of order to the chaos, and this has to be decided before they begin the documentation phase of the investigation. If they begin haphazardly documenting everything they see in random order, it won’t make any sense and it’ll be difficult to later articulate their findings. There are different methods that can be used to orderly describe evidence at a crime scene, and some of those include spatial order, order of importance, and chronological order. I always used spatial order to describe my bodies, and I usually began with the top of the head and worked my way to the feet, describing every little detail of their position and condition.

I was documenting the worst of Ty’s injuries when Susan had asked if I would kill the suspects when I found them. The answer to her question was not as simple as a yes or a no. It depended on so many factors. Would the suspects resist arrest or would they give up peacefully? Would they make a run for it in a manner that endangered the lives of the community at large? Would they threaten one of our officers while trying to escape?

There were simply too many factors to consider, so I was unable to give an honest answer. Since I was not in the habit of lying to my wife, I kept my mouth shut and continued doing my job.

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Susan stood slowly and walked over to my shotgun. I didn’t look up as I heard her feed shells into it and work the pump action. As I worked, she continued talking. “From here on out, I’m gonna be with you every step of the way. I won’t let you do anything stupid that might take you away from me. Got it, Mister?”

I didn’t answer her.

“Cover your ears,” she said and lifted my shotgun into the air.

I laid down my pen and pad and shoved my fingers in my ears. I looked up right before she fired a shot, and I saw that the buzzards were closing in on us. They were growing bolder by the minute and the black vultures were beginning to act aggressively. They would swoop down within several feet of us, as though daring us to do something about it. Since these birds sometimes attacked living animals, it was not out of the question to think they might attack Susan and me just to get at Ty’s body.

As I watched, Susan fired a beanbag round into the air. She made sure not to hit any of the birds, because black vultures and turkey vultures were protected by the Federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918, which prohibits the taking of the birds without prior authorization by the Department of Interior U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Since we didn’t have the Department on speed-dial, we’d have to rely on the thunderous explosion to scare them away. It worked somewhat, because they suddenly shot farther into the sky, but they weren’t giving up that easy. They continued soaring above us—probably communicating amongst themselves and hatching a plan of attack—and I knew it was a matter of time before they began inching closer again. Sooner or later, they might realize the shotgun blasts were nothing but bluffs, and they might move in for the feast.

“If they get too close, I’m stinging them,” Susan said. “I’m not about to get my eyes plucked out by no damn bird—federal law or not.”

I nodded and turned back to the task at hand. I was still angry about what had happened to Ty, and I wasn’t in the mood for talking. I tried to imagine Logan doing something so sinister. While he didn’t appear to be the type of person who would do something like this, I had been doing this job long enough to know you could never really judge a book by its cover. The nicest-looking person could be the most evil of all evils, while the roughest-looking individual might give you his last meal.

As a law enforcement officer, I was bound by the laws and Constitution I had sworn to uphold, and I knew I would not step outside of those bounds. However, as a man, there was definitely something